Chapter 1

Shyla looked in the mirror, smoothing down her blouse and flicking a piece of lint off her skirt. Her reflection stared back, a blend of exhaustion and determination. She took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror, ready to face another day at the office. It was the same routine she'd followed for the last five years. Wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, and dive into the sea of paperwork that was her job. But today was different. Today, she had a plan.

As she walked into the office, she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach. The air had tension, the kind that only comes before a storm. She glanced around at her colleagues, all of them busy in their own little worlds, oblivious to the tempest brewing in her mind. Daniel Savage looked up from his desk, the average man who was anything but average in one particular aspect. His eyes met hers for a brief moment, a knowing smile playing at the corner of his lips. Shyla's heart raced. It was that smile, that one little detail that had captured her attention months ago, hinting at something more beneath his unassuming exterior.

Her friendship with Dan's ex-girlfriend, Carolyn, had been a strange one. Carolyn had always had a penchant for sharing details, often too much. One drunken night at the office Christmas party, she'd spilled the tea about Dan's size, whispering it to Shyla in a way that was both proud and a little bit cruel. Shyla had felt a mix of shock and fascination, something that had lingered in her thoughts longer than she cared to admit. Carolyn had bragged about Dan's endowment with a wink, and while Shyla had laughed it off, she'd secretly wondered if it was true. Now, as she saw the way Dan's eyes lit up when they talked, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity, a hint of desire that was as unexpected as it was thrilling.

The day dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity. The usual office banter and coffee runs seemed mundane, almost painfully so. Shyla's mind was elsewhere, racing through a hundred different scenarios of what might happen after work. Would he make the first move, or would she? What would it be like? Would it be worth it? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her phone buzzing.

It was a text from Carolyn. "How's work going, babe?" Carolyn had no idea what Shyla had planned, and Shyla felt a pang of guilt at the thought of deceiving her friend. But she couldn't ignore the excitement coursing through her veins. She replied with a simple, "Can't wait for the weekend." Carolyn's response was quick, "Me too! What are you and Tom up to?" Shyla's stomach lurched at the mention of her husband. She hadn't thought about him in this context before.

Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall, counting down the hours. Each tick was a reminder that she was about to step into uncharted territory. The thought of Tom being away on a business trip this weekend had presented the perfect opportunity to act on her impulses. With trembling fingers, she typed out a text to Carolyn, "Tom is away on a business trip this weekend." She hit send.

The rest of the day was a blur of spreadsheets and emails, but she couldn't shake the thought of Dan. The way he'd always been there for her during office drama, the subtle touches that had begun to feel less than innocent. His smile grew more knowing as the hours passed, as if he could read her mind. At 5 pm sharp, she sent him a message asking if he'd like to grab a drink. His response was swift, "Sounds like a plan."

Her heart racing, she texted him the address of the bar across town. It was a place she'd heard of but never been to, a place where the lights were low and the music was just loud enough to mask whispers. It was the kind of place where people went when they wanted to be seen but not recognized.

When Shyla arrived, she took a moment to collect herself in the bathroom. She checked her makeup, her hair, and took a deep breath. This was it. She walked out and scanned the room, her eyes finally landing on him.

Dan sat at the bar, sipping a Coke with a lime. His eyes met hers and he raised his glass in a silent toast. She approached, feeling the heat from his gaze. He had always been such a gentleman, always so considerate of others. That's why she knew that his choice to abstain from **** was not a personal preference, but rather a tribute to his mother. He had seen firsthand the destruction that addiction could wreak on a life, and he had chosen a different path.

Shyla slid onto the stool next to him, her heart pounding in her chest. The bar was dimly lit, with shadows dancing across his face as the neon lights from outside cast a rainbow of colors across the bottles lined up on the shelves. He was dressed casually, a button-down shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, rolled up at the sleeves to reveal strong forearms. His pants were snug, hinting at the muscular thighs she knew lay beneath them. Despite his physical appeal, it was his humility that truly drew her in.

Dan had been a construction worker before climbing the corporate ladder, and it showed in the way he held himself. His posture was that of a man who had spent years under the open sky, hauling materials and wrestling with heavy machinery. The calluses on his hands were a stark contrast to the sleek surface of the bar, a reminder of his humble beginnings. Despite the office wear that was now his uniform, the strength of his body remained a silent testament to his past life. His biceps flexed as he brought the glass to his lips, and she couldn't help but imagine them wrapped around her.

Shyla took a sip of her wine, the liquid warmth spreading through her chest and loosening her nerves. She leaned closer, the scent of his cologne wafting towards her, clean and faintly exotic.

"So," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "what do you do when you're not... you know, working?"

Dan turned to her, a smirk playing on his lips. "I hit the gym, I read, I collect CDs. I help my landlord with yard stuff." He took a sip of his Coke, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. "And what about you, Shyla? What do you do when you're not buried in paperwork?"

The wine was letting her speak freely, and she found herself opening up more than she ever had before. "I cook," she said, "or at least I used to. Before the job took over my life. And I write. Nothing major, just little stories."

Dan's eyes lit up. "Stories? What kind of stories?"