“Hey—hey!” His hands came up instantly, hovering over the desk as if he could physically block me from touching anything. “What are you doing?!”
He stepped closer, eyes darting over the papers I’d moved, clearly tracking what I’d disturbed.
“That’s organized,” he insisted, his voice tightening just slightly. “I swear.”
“I know,” I said, already flipping through a section without looking at him. His version oforganizedstill followed a pattern.
Left side—lab work.
Right side—Syndicate.
Middle—everything that blurred the line.
And whatever was most recent was toward the top. He’d used the same “system” for the past ten years. Did he think I hadn't caught on over the years?
I shifted a stack just enough to expose what I needed.
Hovering beside me the whole time, hands still raised, he watched every movement like I might ruin something critical if I went too far.
“Relax,” I pulling the document free. “I’m not destroying your masterpiece.”
I cleared a small space on the desk, sliding a few papers aside until there was just enough room. Then I pulled out a pen from my jacket and held it up in front of him, giving it a small shake.
“But you’re signing this first,” I added.
He glanced down at the paper, then back at me, a smirk forming as recognition hit.
“Jacobs’ about to lose it, isn’t he?”
“Already there,” I said.
He took the pen from my hand without another word, his posture shifting again, more focused now, but not in the obsessive way from before. This was familiar, controlled. He signed quickly, dragging the pen across the page with a practiced motion before tossing it back onto the desk, his hand clamping down on my shoulder.
“What would I do without you, bro?”
I folded the paper, slipping it neatly into my jacket before snatching my good pen off his desk of doom.
“You’d be fine,” I blew it off, knowing Ezra would’ve found someone else for the job if I never came along.
He let out a sharp scoff behind me. The silence stretched just long enough for the thought to creep in.
What wouldyoudo withouthim?
It slipped in quiet. Uninvited.
Your life’s nothing compared to his.
The words settled heavier than they should have, old and familiar in a way that made my jaw tighten.
Even your parents knew that.
My grip tightened slightly against the fabric of my jacket.
That’s why they?—
An arm dropped around my shoulders before the thought could finish. Calix pulled me in, his grin wide, easy, his weight leaning just enough to make it impossible to ignore him.
“Are you kidding me?” he said, the words light but firm. “You’re the one who keeps me from screwing all this up.” He waved his hand around the room and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze.
