Emma tossed her office attire into her suitcase, carefully folding her blouses and skirts between layers of tissue paper to avoid wrinkles. She paused, holding up a blazer, and let out a frustrated sigh.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered under her breath. "I was literally just at his place this morning."
The irony wasn't lost on her. Less than 24 hours ago, she had been waking up in William's penthouse condo, the city skyline stretching endlessly beyond his floor-to-ceiling windows. And now, here she was, back in her apartment, packing to stay there again. The situation felt surreal, like a strange loop she couldn't escape.
"This isn't a living-in setup," she reminded herself, speaking to the empty room. "Just a few days, tops. No big deal."
She had rehearsed that line in her head countless times throughout the day, trying to convince herself it was true. But the faint sense of unease lingered. Emma loved her apartment. It was her sanctuary—a small but cozy space she had spent years making her own. As she stood in the middle of her bedroom, suitcase neatly packed and ready to go, she felt an unexpected pang of sadness. This wasn't goodbye, she told herself, just a temporary adjustment.
Taking a deep breath, Emma grabbed her suitcase and headed downstairs. While she waited for William in the lobby, she distracted herself by eating her takeout dinner straight from the container. The flavors were comforting, though not enough to quell the knot of uncertainty in her stomach.
When his truck finally pulled up, she immediately recognized it. Oversized, sleek, and unnecessarily flashy—classic William.
The kind of vehicle that turned heads and made statements, much like the man himself.
He stepped out of the driver's seat, a self-assured smirk already on his face. "Miss me already?"
Emma looked up, her lips curving into a faint smile despite herself. "Thank you for picking me up."
William's gaze dropped to the single suitcase she was pulling. He raised an eyebrow, his expression half-amused, half-incredulous. "That's all you're bringing?"
"Yes," Emma replied evenly. "Just the essentials."
He chuckled as he grabbed the suitcase and tossed it into the truck bed with ease. "Essentials. Got it."
As she climbed into the passenger seat, she glanced at him. "I'm really sorry for the inconvenience."
William shook his head, his grin widening. "What inconvenience? This is my boyfriend-duty."
Emma didn't reply, focusing instead on buckling her seatbelt. She wasn't sure if his casual attitude made her feel better or worse. The drive to his penthouse was quiet, the kind of silence that wasn't entirely uncomfortable but still carried unspoken thoughts. The city lights blurred past the windows, and Emma found herself lost in the rhythm of the passing cars.
When they finally pulled into the underground parking garage, Emma glanced at him with a wry smile. "Déjà vu," she muttered.
William laughed, his deep, warm chuckle filling the car. "I guess we're making a habit of this."
Grabbing her suitcase, he led the way to the private elevator. Emma followed, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. As the elevator ascended, she couldn't help but marvel at how different this felt compared to her first visit. Back then, she was busy with something else. Now, she felt a strange mix of familiarity and uncertainty.
"Welcome back, babe," William said as the elevator doors opened to reveal his penthouse.
Emma stepped inside, her eyes briefly scanning the unit again. She set her suitcase down and turned to him, folding her arms. "I didn't think I'd be back so soon."
"Well," William replied, leaning casually against the wall, "now it's home."
Emma frowned, "Temporary home," she corrected.
He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We'll see about that."
Rolling her eyes, she picked up her suitcase and headed toward the guest bedroom. The room was pristine, like the rest of the penthouse, and smelled faintly of fresh linen.
As she began unpacking, William appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.
"I'm serious," Emma said, not looking up. "Just a few days until I find a new place."
William didn't respond immediately. Instead, he watched her with that infuriatingly smug expression she had come to know so well. Finally, he broke the silence. "So, you're sleeping in here?"
Emma paused, shooting him a warning glare. "Don't start."
"I'm just saying," he said, his tone playful.
"You seemed pretty comfortable in our bedroom yesterday. Why the sudden change of heart?"
"That's your bedroom," Emma shot back, her cheeks flushing slightly. "This is just more appropriate."
William pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer, his smirk never fading. "We already share the bed, though. Why pretend otherwise?"
Emma sighed, rubbing her temples in frustration. "You're impossible."
William perched himself on the edge of the guest bed, watching her with an almost childlike curiosity. "Need help unpacking?"
"No," Emma replied firmly, folding one of her blouses and placing it in a drawer. From the corner of her eye, she noticed him leaning back on his elbows, his relaxed posture contrasting sharply with her tense movements.
"Why are you still here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
"Waiting for you," he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Emma turned to face him, "You don't have to wait for me, you can sleep now?"
He shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. "Who says we're gonna sleep?"
She felt her cheeks heat up again. "Don't even think about it," she warned.
"Think about what?" he asked innocently, leaning forward slightly.
Emma's blush deepened, and William's grin grew wider. "You're cute when you're flustered," he teased.
"I'm not flustered," she insisted, though her tone was far less convincing than she'd hoped.
"Then why are you blushing?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. He brow raising up as he moves towards her.
Before she could respond, his lips brushed against hers, soft and deliberate. The kiss was brief but left her breathless. With a wide grin on his face he said.
"Dinner time"
Emma cannot help but wonder what kind of dinner was he thinking.