Under His Billionaire Roof

Leighton's alarm went off at seven. She'd slept maybe three hours, total.

Her phone interview was at nine. She needed coffee. Needed to pull herself together and sound competent and employable instead of like someone who'd spent half the night obsessing over her best friend's brother.

She showered and changed into actual clothes. A blouse and jeans, since they couldn't see her bottom half on the video call anyway. Light makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail.

Professional. Put together. Definitely not thinking about Noah's eyes or his voice or the way he'd said *grew up*.

She grabbed her laptop and crept downstairs. According to Chloe, Noah worked out every morning at six, then locked himself in his office until noon. Which meant the coast should be clear.

The kitchen was empty. She made coffee, her hands still shaky from lack of sleep. The spot where the glass had shattered was spotless. Like it had never happened.

She took her coffee and laptop to what Chloe had called the "morning room." Big windows, comfortable chairs, good lighting. Perfect for a video interview.

She had an hour to prep. Review the company website, practice her answers, pretend her life wasn't a complete mess.

At 8:45, her laptop pinged. The interview link was active. She took a deep breath and clicked join.

The interview lasted thirty minutes. Standard questions about her experience, her design process, and why she wanted the job. She gave good answers. Smiled at the right times. Pretended she wasn't desperate.

"We'll be in touch," the hiring manager said at the end. "Probably early next week."

Translation: don't call us, we'll call you.

Leighton closed her laptop and slumped in the chair. That had gone fine. Not great, not terrible. Fine.

She needed more coffee.

On her way back to the kitchen, she heard music. Something with a heavy beat coming from down the hall. She followed the sound to a door she hadn't noticed before, slightly open.

Through the gap, she could see equipment. A treadmill. Weight racks. Punching bag.

The gym.

She should keep walking. Mind her own business. Get her coffee and go back to her room.

Instead, she moved closer to the door.

Noah was inside. She could see him through the opening, his back to her. He was on the weight bench, doing chest presses. No shirt, just shorts and sneakers. Sweat gleamed on his skin. His muscles flexed with each rep, controlled and precise.

She knew she should look away. Knew she was being creepy, standing here watching him.

But she couldn't move.

He finished his set and sat up, reaching for a water bottle. His chest rose and fell with his breathing. There was a scar on his left shoulder, about three inches long. She wondered how he'd gotten it.

Then he turned his head and looked directly at her.

Their eyes locked.

Leighton froze. Caught. Like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The music pounded between them. She couldn't read his expression. Couldn't tell if he was angry or amused or something else entirely.

Then he stood up and walked toward the door.

She should run. Should apologize and leave and never speak of this again.

But her feet wouldn't move.

He pushed the door open wider. Up close, she could see the sweat on his skin, the way his chest still heaved slightly from exertion. He smelled like salt and something expensive. Cologne or body wash or just him.

"Enjoying the show?" His voice was low. Dangerous.

"I heard music. I was just..."

"Watching me work out."

Her face burned. "I wasn't... I mean, I was walking by and..."

"And you stopped to stare."

"I'm sorry."

"You apologize a lot for someone who keeps doing things she shouldn't."

"I know. I'll just..." She gestured vaguely toward the kitchen.

"How'd your interview go?"

The question threw her. "What?"

"Your phone interview. This morning. How was it?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Chloe mentioned it yesterday." He took a drink of water, and she tried very hard not to watch his throat work as he swallowed. "So?"

"It was fine. They said they'd call next week."

"That's good."

"Maybe. I don't know." She twisted her hands together. "I applied to like forty jobs. Only got one call back. The market is awful right now."

"What kind of design do you do?"

"Mostly branding. Logos, marketing materials. Some web design."

He nodded slowly, like he was filing that information away. "You should eat breakfast. Low blood sugar makes interviews harder."

"I had coffee."

"Coffee isn't food."

"It has calories."

"Leighton."

The way he said her name made her stomach flip. Like he was scolding her and testing how it sounded at the same time.

"I'll eat something," she said.

"Good." He stepped back into the gym. "And next time you want to watch me work out, you can just come in instead of lurking in the doorway."

Before she could respond, he closed the door.

She stood there for a full minute, her heart pounding. Had he just... was he flirting with her? Or making fun of her? She genuinely couldn't tell.

She went to the kitchen and made toast she didn't want, eating it mechanically while staring at nothing. Her phone buzzed with a video call. Chloe.

She answered, propping the phone against a fruit bowl.

"Hey! How'd the interview go?" Chloe's face filled the screen, bright and cheerful.

"Fine. I think."

"That's great! See, I told you things would work out." Chloe shifted, and Leighton could see she was in a coffee shop. "How's everything there? Is Noah being decent?"

Leighton thought about last night. The broken glass. His eyes on her pajamas. The way he'd told her to stop apologizing.

"Yeah. He's been... fine."

"Really? Because I know he can be kind of intense. If he's being an ass, you can tell me. I'll kick his ass for you."

"No, seriously. It's fine. He's barely around." The lie tasted bitter. "I hardly see him."

"Good. That's good." Chloe took a sip of her coffee. "I feel bad about just dumping you there and running to work every day. I should have taken time off."

"Don't be ridiculous. You've done enough. More than enough."

"You're my best friend. There's no such thing as enough." Chloe's expression softened. "I mean it, Leigh. If you need anything, or if Noah gives you any shit, just tell me."

"I will. I promise."

They talked for a few more minutes about nothing important. Chloe's work drama. The new restaurant she wanted to try. Normal things that made Leighton's chest ache with how much she missed her regular life.

After they hung up, she sat in the empty kitchen and hated herself a little for lying. Chloe deserved the truth. But what would she even say? *Your brother looked at me in my pajamas and now I can't stop thinking about him? I watched him work out like a creep this morning.*

Yeah. That would go over well.

She cleaned up her breakfast mess and headed back upstairs. The gym door was closed now, the music silent. Noah was probably in the shower.

She tried very hard not to picture that.

Back in her room, she opened her laptop to apply to more jobs. But her email had a new message. From the company she'd interviewed with this morning.

Her heart jumped. They'd said next week. It had only been an hour.

She clicked it open.

*Thank you for your time this morning. Unfortunately, we've decided to move forward with other candidates. We wish you the best in your job search.*

She read it three times. Each time, the words felt sharper.

Not even a full hour. They couldn't even wait a day to reject her.

She closed the laptop and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. One week down. One week to go. And still no job prospects. No apartment leads. Nothing but a growing pile of rejections and a dangerous attraction to a completely off-limits man.

Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

*Stop beating yourself up. One rejection isn't the end of the world. - N*

She stared at the message. How did he even get her number? Chloe, probably.

She typed back: *How did you know I got rejected?*

*I didn't. But you had that look on your face after the interview. Like you were waiting for bad news.*

*What looks?*

*The same one you had when you showed up here with one suitcase.*

She didn't know what to say to that. The fact that he'd noticed. That he'd been paying attention.

Another text came through: *For what it's worth, they're idiots.*

Despite everything, she smiled.

*Thanks*

She waited to see if he'd respond, but he didn't. She saved his number in her phone, staring at his name for longer than was probably healthy.

This was bad. This whole situation was bad.

But when her phone buzzed with another job listing Chloe had sent her, she felt just a little bit less alone.

And that was the most dangerous thing of all.