Her name lights up the screen like a beacon calling me home, pulling me to the shore after being lost at sea for too long to count.
Flagged User: Eris.
Activity: Typing.
Silas is mid-sentence, talking about security redundancies and how Daniel’s access points are getting sloppier. Jace says something sharp and almost amused about over-engineering the problem.
I lose interest in their conversation as soon as I open the admin thread on the HimLock app. Eris is typing, but I don’t wait to see what she’s saying, too eager to be casual.
She’s had a long day, and we all thought she was asleep. We should have known better. She doesn’t really do the things we predict.
I think that’s what draws up to her.
I stand up, enthralled by her quick wit and determined to take this banter to her face-to-face so I can watch her expression in real time and not through a monitor.
“Nope,” Jace pops off sarcastically. “We don’t need you to be part of this conversation.”
“You good?” Silas asks, his brow raised.
“Yeah,” I reply, already moving toward the hall. “Keep going. Like Jace said, you don’t need me for this conversation.”
Silas tips his head in understanding, and Jace snorts but doesn’t argue.
I don’t need to explain. We’re each just as fucked as the other when it comes to Eris… And none of us care.
I walk away as if this interaction is the only thing that matters now.
Because it is.
My thumbs fly across my phone screen as I pad quietly down the hall.
Locke:
I want you to ask the real question you keep hiding away from.
I imagine her feeling sassy just based on the speed of her reply.
Eris:
Which is…?
My mouth twitches despite myself. That’s her… Always turning the question back onto us, testing the angle, looking for the pressure points that make lesser men cave and turn away.
I don’t dodge it.
Locke:
Do I want you?
Do we really want you?
I stop outside her door and wait for her reply. The loft is quiet here, the air conditioning humming overhead. The polished concrete floor is cool under my bare feet. Light spills faintly from beneath her door, showing no movement.
But the dots rolling across my screen tell me another story.
She’s on the other side of this door.
Thinking about us.
