On the evening of that day Kasie and Jake met at a barset back, quiet bar nearby their workplace. It was one of those cozy places with dim lighting, worn leather booths, and a quiet jazz tune drifting through the air—a surprising choice for them, considering how they usually interacted only in the fluorescent lighting of the office.
Jake, looking most peculiar but utterly at home, his jacket thrown carelessly over the back of the chair. When she got closer, he caught his gaze, and in the way he looked at her his expression took on such an effect that she felt her pulse quicken.
She glided into the adjacent booth and sat across from him, nervous and at the same time, weirdly. aroused.
Well, Jake began, his face getting closer, hands just casually holding his beer, "what's it like being back in Denmark after Paris?
Kasie smiled, though she experienced a little shot of excitement at the mention of adventure. "It feels. calmer, she admitted, glancing away as if the rows of bottles lining the wall were suddenly fascinating. "Less chaotic, anyway. And it's nice to get a break from certain people.
Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Certain people, huh? I'm wounded, Kasie."
"You'll survive, she shot back, though her voice was lighter than usual. She took a sip of her drink, letting the warmth spread through her.
The conversation drifted easily from there. They discussed work, the Paris project, and some of their colleagues' idiosyncrasies and shortly thereafter they were laughing at things that had bothered them only a couple of days prior. Kasie found herself relaxing, each laugh easing the tension she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. She would frequently overcome herself to look at Jake's face multiple times, and they would identify the manner in which his eyes crinkled when he smiled, but also the way his smile creased when she did.
A pause settled between them, and Kasie's thoughts drifted down the unsaid tension that had lingered ever since Paris. She didn't know how to bring it up. She wasn't sure if she wanted to.
"So. this is us now, huh? she asked, aiming for a casual tone, though her heart was pounding. She idly mixed her drink, appearing to be more interested in the melting ice than his response.
Jake's countenance changed to one of thought, a slight smile grazes the corners of his mouth. "I don't think we were ever just colleagues, Kasie, he said, his voice soft and steady. He kept his gaze on her, unwavering.
Kasie's breath hitched, and she couldn't look away. His speech hung between them, so innocent yet weighty. She tried to come up with something witty to say, something to diffuse it, but she could not utter a word.
Jake leaned in, his eyes warm and searching, as if he were trying to read every flicker of emotion in her expression. "Tell me if I'm wrong, he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "but I feel like we've been dancing around something. since Paris. Maybe even before that."
Kasie choked, feeling the gravity of his statement fall on her. There was part of her that wished to dismiss it all, to make it untrue, but there was another partthat was becoming more insistent, one that wanted to speak the truth.
"You're not wrong," she finally murmured, her cheeks warm. She looked down, self-conscious in an instant, but Jake's hand crossed the table, meeting hers, anchoring her.
"Good," he said, his voice gentle. That's because, I don't know if I can continue to pretend it's just business between us.
Kasie felt her heart hammering in her chest, and, in that moment, the reality of her feelings hit her like a wave. She didn't want to keep pretending, either.