Page 64 of The Gaybor War

"Thank you. For… not making it a thing."

I tip my head. "Oh, Carter. This is absolutely a thing."

His eyes close briefly. Then, before he can overthink it and before I can say something that violates our brand-new anti-spectacle agreement, he leans in and kisses me one more time.

Quick. Soft. Completely unfair. When he pulls away, I just blink at him.

"That one didn't count," I inform him.

"Why?"

"Too short."

A laugh escapes him. Actual laughter.

My God. I should kiss him more often.

Carter shakes his head and opens the door. "Goodnight, Benji."

"Goodnight, Carter."

I give him a head start before following him out.

I walk home slower than necessary, hoping he’s watching my sway through the window. Across the street, I glance back. His light is still on. Mine is too. The space between our houses feels smaller than it did an hour ago—as if something invisible just stretched across it and tied tight.

I don’t feel rejected. I feel… seen. Wanted.

Which is worse. And better.

And absolutely going to complicate my week.

Chapter 19

I’m supposed to be reviewing a budget variance, but the spreadsheet has developed a personality and it’s Benji-shaped.

I stare at the numbers until they blur, then blink hard like that might reset my brain. It doesn’t. Nothing does. Not coffee. Not discipline. Not the deeply ingrained fear of unprofessionalism that has carried me this far in life.

"Benji—" I say aloud.

Across the conference table, Ryan looks up. "Sorry?"

"I meant—" I clear my throat. "—budget. I meant budget."

Silence. Then a couple of amused looks. Someone smirks. I feel a slow, traitorous heat crawl up my neck.

Get it together, Reed.

But I can still feel that scorching kiss. It wasn’t frantic or desperate, it stopped because we chose to stop, which somehow makes it worse.

Better.

Both.

My brain keeps replaying the moment right before we pulled apart, searching for a flaw in my logic. A reason this won't work. A reason I should back away now.

The problem is, I'm running out of reasons.

I always thought I wanted calm. Order. Predictability. A life that stayed neatly between the lines.