Memories Drifted Into Soft Silence by Kyx Frost 250

Tristan 

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Thirty minutes later, we were both disheveled and trying to make ourselves look presentable 

again. 

“You said you’d be quick,” I muttered, tucking my shirt back into my pants and running a hand 

through my hair. 

“I tried,” she said, her voice still breathless as she smoothed down her skirt and then her hair. 

“It’s not my fault you’re so good at what you do.” 

I couldn’t help but smile at that. Even in the middle of this crazy situation, she could still make 

me smile. Still make my chest feel warm and full. 

“Go back to your office,” I said, straightening my collar one last time “We need to at least 

pretend we were working.” 

She nodded and unlocked the door, peeking out into the hallway like some kind of spy. 

When she was satisfied the coast was clear, she slipped out, but not before throwing me one last 

heated look over her shoulder. 

I watched her go, then collapsed into my office chair with a groan. My body was starting to feel 

the strain of seven days of near–constant activity. I was in good shape but even I had limits. 

I sat back down at my desk and tried to focus on the files in front of me, but all I could think 

about was Athena down the hall. 

My phone buzzed with a message from Orion: Meeting in 10. Conference room. 

Perfect timing. 

I stood up and straightened my clothes again, king sure there was no evidence of what had 

just happened. Then I headed down the hall, stopping at Athena’s office on the way. 

I knocked lightly before opening the door. She was at her desk, staring at her computer screen 

but clearly not actually working. Her hands were clenched on the edge of her desk and I could see 

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Chapter 250 

the tension in her shoulders. 

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“Meeting in ten,” I said quietly. 

She looked up at me and I saw the panic flash across her face. “I don’t know if I can sit through 

a meeting right now.” 

“You can,” I said, moving closer and resting my hand on her shoulder. “You’re stronger than this 

heat, remember? Just breathe through it.” 

She took a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay. I can do this.” 

“That’s my girl,” I said, squeezing her shoulder gently before heading back out. 

The conference room was at the end of the hall a spacious room with large windows 

overlooking the repair bays. 

Orion was already there, setting up his laptop and organizing papers. The potential client, a 

middle–aged man in an expensive suit named Richard Carmichael, sat at the far end of the table 

looking at his phone. 

“Tristan,” Orion said with a nod. “Where’s Athena?” 

“She’ll be here in a second,” I said, taking a seat across from where I knew she’d sit. Putting 

distance between us seemed like the smart choice. 

Athena arrived a moment later, looking composed despite what I knew she was feeling. She’d 

redone her makeup and pulled her hair back into a reat ponytail. 

To anyone else, she’d look perfectly professional 

But I could see the flush on her cheeks, the slight tremor in her hands as she set down her 

notepad. 

The meeting started and it was torture from the first minute. 

We were discussing a major restoration project, vintage Porsche that Mr. Carmichael had 

inherited from his father. 

It needed extensive bodywork and a complete engine rebuild. Normally, this was the kind of 

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project I’d be excited about, but I couldn’t focus on anything except Athena. 

She kept shifting in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Her pen tapped against her 

notepad in a nervous rhythm. 

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Every few minutes, her eyes would flick up to meet mine and I could see the desperation there. 

“So you’re looking at what, six to eight weeks for the full restoration?” Mr. Carmichael was 

asking.