Adriana's phone buzzed with a new email notification just as she'd started up her laptop in an attempt to focus on anything other than Will Lockwood. She rolled her eyes when she saw it was from him.

—

Adriana,

Let's meet in the Westbrook building tomorrow morning. I've booked Room 312 (whiteboards and more space to lay things out). See you at 10.

Will
—

There it was again, that insufferable confident tone, as if everything was copacetic between them. She hated him. Almost as much as she hated that her stomach did a weird little flip whenever he emailed her.

She sighed and closed her laptop, trying to shake off the frustration that had been gnawing at her since their last meeting. Will had seemed genuinely confused by her cool demeanour, as if he couldn't fathom why she wasn't acting like they were old .Adriana couldn't stand how men could behave like toddlers, their tantrums and obliviousness brushed off as just "boys being boys." Meanwhile, if women showed even a hint of emotion at work, they were labeled as hysterical, and if they dared to get angry, they were branded as bitches. Funny how the male-dominated world managed to sell that narrative.

And the worst part? She still found herself attracted to him, proving that her hormones had no sense of self-preservation. It was frustrating as fuck.

The next morning, Adriana walked across the beautifully maintained campus, mentally preparing herself for what was sure to be another energy-consuming encounter. The Westbrook building was newer, with sleek glass walls and open spaces. When she found Room 312, she hesitated for just a second before pushing the door open.

Will was already there, standing by the whiteboard, marker in hand. The sleeves of his dark crewneck shirt were pushed up, showing off strong forearms, and he was concentrated on the board, completely absorbed in what he was doing, which sent an unwelcome shiver down Adriana's spine. Did her hormones have no shame?

Then Adriana paused.

Her brows furrowed as she noticed something 's left-handed?She watched, completely baffled, as his hand moved smoothly across the board without a single smudge. His writing was immaculate, flawless. Each line was clean and precise.

Will must have sensed her hesitation because he turned around, catching her in the act of staring. "Everything okay?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes focused, curious.

Without thinking, she blurted out, "How can you write?"

He frowned slightly, turning the marker in his hand as he tried to piece together what she meant. "What do you mean?"

Adriana hesitated, suddenly aware of how absurd she might sound. "You're left-handed," she finally said. "Shouldn't you be… smudging ink all over the place?"

Will's confusion turned into mild amusement. He leaned against the whiteboard, studying her. "Adriana, are you asking how I manage to write on a board?"

Adriana felt a small flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck. "Well, I mean. Yeah," she admitted, her voice almost defensive. "Lefties usually smudge boards, don't they?"

He didn't respond right away, instead, he turned back to the board. "Years of practice," he finally said, the amusement in his voice still there. He placed the marker against the board and continued to write in perfect script. "Strategic hand placement," he added, his fingers moving with a natural precision that made the whole process look effortless.

There was something captivating in the way his hand moved methodically, almost rhythmically, as it traced each letter's shape with practiced ease. It was subtle, controlled, and almost too perfect. Adriana found herself staring again.

He seemed to sense her momentary lapse, as he turned his head slightly toward her, offering a small smile. "It's all in the angle," he said, his tone easy.

Adriana blinked rapidly and cleared her throat, snapping herself out of it. "Right. Makes sense," she muttered, trying to regain her composure. "I just wasn't expecting that."

Will gave a quiet laugh, his expression softening as he turned back to the board. "No worries. I get that reaction sometimes." He glanced back at her, pausing. "Anything else you're curious about?" He asked politely.

"Nope, I'm good," Adriana mumbled. "I'd like to completely forget I said any of that and just move along." She set her bag down on the large conference table in the middle of the room and pulled out her notebook, miserable with her own performance.

"Noted," he said, as he continued writing.

He wrote a few more lines and finally stepped back, capping the marker. "I thought it would be helpful to map everything out," Will explained as he gestured to the whiteboard. "It's easier to see the big picture this way."

She nodded. "Makes sense."

He looked over his work, running a hand through his hair absently as he focused on the task at hand. Adriana started writing the date at the top of her page, while watching him out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't help but notice the way his soft-looking shirt fit ever-so-nicely across his shoulders or how his left forearm flexed slightly as he rotated the marker in his hand.

Will turned back to her, leaning slightly against the ledge of the whiteboard as his eyes settled on her. "What do you think of this timeline? I've tried to map out all the key milestones."

Adriana stood and moved closer to the board as she took in the details. He'd laid everything out so clearly, so logically, that it was hard to find fault with it.

"It looks fine- good," she said, trying to sound indifferent. "But we'll need to account for potential delays. Especially with stages involving departmental reviews, and of course, for any necessary redesigns."

Will nodded, seemingly deep in thought. "Good catch. We can build in some buffer time, just in case."

Now he's Mr. Reasonable?Adriana thought, some irritation beginning to simmer beneath the surface. She and Cara had made a pact: no more tolerating mixed signals or games. She wassupposedto be angry with him for how he treated her in the second meeting, but instead, she found herself frustrated for not being able to decode his behaviour. It just made no sense to her. At least with Henry, the mood swings were predictable, tied neatly to his narcissism and to the intimate nature of their relationship. But Will didn't fit that mold, and he certainly wasn't interested in her.

Will Lockwood was actually a bigger deal than she'd originally thought. He'd been featured on both PBS and BBC several times (something she discovered during a late-night Google deep dive). But even if he didn't have his reputation, Will was confident, attractive, and creatively sharp, a rare trifecta in STEM. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd have college girls tripping over themselves without even trying.

So why was he acting like this? It just didn't add up.

Adriana felt even more mystified after she'd read through themanyreviews left by students on RateMyProf (perfect scores, three chili peppers, and not a single bad comment). Was it something about her? Was it because she wasn't a scientist? Why did he treat her like a waste of space one day, praise her the next, and then act like she was his favourite teammate today? It was stupid and upsetting and illogical, and the more she tried to unravel it, the more her head throbbed.

Lost in her thoughts, Adriana barely noticed when Will stopped writing and moved closer. Suddenly, he was beside her, studying the board. "I was thinking we could present the data this way," he said, his voice calm and assured as he pointed to a section on the board, snapping her back to reality.

Adriana tensed at the sudden closeness, feeling her body instinctively react. She had to concentrate hard to stay still, resisting the urge to put some distance between them (she was trying to keep thingsa littlefriendly, after all).

"Yeah, that could work," she managed, forcing her voice to stay strong despite the slight tremor. Why was she shaking? "But we need to make sure the visuals are sharp and clear. No unnecessary fluff."

Will gave her a sidelong glance, and she could see the corner of his mouth twitch into what could have been a smile. "No fluff," he agreed. "Straight to the point. Very you."

There was something in the way he said it, something that made Adriana's heart skip a beat, and she immediately chastised herself for , Adriana. Stop it.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. "Okay, so we've got the timeline and the data that we want in the presentation down. What about the messaging? How would you like to frame this for the board?"

Will looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned his full attention to her. "I've been thinking about that. Your proposal suggested circling in on the impact it will have on the individuals, and I agree. We need to make them see the bigger picture, while making it relatable on a personal level."

Adriana nodded, appreciating the way he explained it. "We're showing them both the microscopic and macroscopic views, all at once." She squinted at the board, her lips curving slightly. "It's actually a nice meta-level concept, mirroring the holistic nature of the therapy itself." Shelovedwhen she discovered new layers of meaning to incorporate into her design plans as she moved forward. Absentmindedly tapping a finger against her lip, she added, "We should also prepare for the usual objections. They'll want to poke holes, so we need to be ready."

Will looked at her, and there it was again: that subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his expression, like he was admiring something in her that she wasn't sure she wanted him to admire.

"Good," he finally said. "We'll be ready."

There was a moment of silence, the kind that felt charged with something unsaid. Adriana took the moment to step back and check her phone that was poking out of her bag. Ultimately, she hated that she was drawn to him, hated that he had this effect on her. But more than anything, she hated that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite keep him out.

They went over the timeline details for a while longer, and when the meeting finally wrapped up, Adriana quickly grabbed her bag, aiming for a swift exit. But just as she was about to leave, Will's voice caught her again. Was this some kind of control move? Or was it just a guy thing, always needing to have the last word?

"Adriana," Will gently called to her, with an undertone that made her pause, "keep that perceptiveness. It's one of the reasons I wanted you on this project."

The words caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn't know how to respond. But then she nodded, keeping her expression neutral. "Thanks, will do. See you at the next meeting."

And with that, she walked out, her mind a swirl of conflicting thoughts and emotions. She had managed to stay professional, to keep her distance, but barely. And as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew that Will was getting under her skin.