“About?”
Evan looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Whether this is a good idea.”
CJ’s mouth twitched. “How’s that going?”
Evan huffed softly. “Badly.”
CJ shifted and leaned one shoulder against the wall, turning just enough that he could look at Evan head-on instead of speaking into the space between them.
“It’s just a conversation,” he said. “Maybe don’t overthink it.”
Evan huffed a quiet breath and kept his gaze fixed forward for a second longer before he dragged his eyes to meet CJ’s. “I know it’s been a long time,” he said, his voice laced with dry humor. “But not overthinking isn’t something I’ve ever been good at.”
CJ’s mouth curved slightly at that, like he remembered. “Internal replay booth,” he said quietly.
Of course he remembered.
Evan shifted his weight, pressing his back into the wall, hoping it would steady him. It didn’t. His thoughts kept circling around every possible way this could play out. Every outcome led straight back to something he’d already lived through once and hadn’t been able to fix the first time.
“I mean,” Evan added after a second, his voice quiet even though there was no one else there to hear it. He dragged a hand down his face, fingers pressing briefly into his eyes before dropping back to his side. “I’ve been actively avoiding you for months now. Years, if we’re being honest. And now I’m standing in an elevator with you, actively not avoiding you.”
CJ shifted slightly beside him, close enough that Evan felt the movement more than saw it. “That a bad thing?”
“I don’t know yet,” he admitted. The elevator slowed to a stop. “But I guess we’re gonna find out.”
The doors slid open with a soft chime, but neither of them moved. For half a second, Evan stood there with the doors open in front of him and a clean, easy exit within reach. He could step out of the elevator, turn toward their apartments, and continue on to his own place like he’d done a hundred times before. He could pretend this was just another moment he’d chosen control over whatever this was. He knew how to do that.
But then CJ tilted his head and stepped out, and Evan followed because there was no other choice.
The hallway was exactly the same as it had always been. Same carpet, same lighting, same quiet stretch of doors that led to nothing more dramatic than people going about their lives. For a second, Evan expected it to feel normal. It didn’t.
Evan felt it immediately. Somewhere between the elevator and the hallway, his pulse had climbed and hadn’t come back down, beating fast beneath his skin. It thudded hard enough that he could feel it in his throat and the base of his jaw like it was trying to force its way out. His breathing had gone shallow without him noticing, and he inhaled deeply, trying to pull in enough air. His palms felt damp and he wiped them on his pants before he flexed his fingers once.
His eyes landed on CJ, the fabric of his shirt pulling just slightly across his broad shoulders. Evan’s gaze dropped before he could stop it, and he stared at the line of CJ’s back as it narrowed to his hips, then lower at the muscle shifting beneath denim and the shift of CJ’s hips as he walked. It was the kind of movement that came from strength and repetition and didn’t need to be exaggerated to be noticed.
Heat flared low and fast, and his stomach tightened in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. Evan dragged his eyes back up, flushing like he’d been caught even though CJ hadn’t turned around. His jaw tightened reflexively, like he could control his reaction the way he could control everything else.
It didn’t work.
Ahead of him, CJ came to a stop at his door and pulled out his keys, the faint jingle of metal sounding louder than it should have before he held the fob to the reader. For a second, he didn’t move.
“You can still bail,” CJ said without turning around.
Evan huffed softly. “Do you want me to?”
CJ shook his head, still facing the door. “Figured I’d offer.”
Evan could feel the tension radiating off CJ, and he closed the distance between them until he could feel CJ’s heat in front of him.
“I didn’t follow you just to leave,” he said quietly.
CJ’s hand tightened around his doorknob, a barely there motion that no one else would have noticed. Then he nodded once and opened the door. He stepped inside first, moving just far enough to clear the doorway before he stopped abruptly, like he wasn’t sure what the next move should be. Evan slipped in behind him, and the door closed with a quiet click, sealing them into a space that suddenly felt too small for the amount of tension they both carried.
Evan dropped his bag by the door and toed off his shoes, his eyes locked on CJ and the way his shoulders were just a little too tight. The tension was subtle, but it was there, and for the first time, Evan realized he wasn’t the only one off balance.
CJ cleared his throat and shifted his weight to kick off his sneakers before glancing down the hall toward the kitchen. “You want, uh…water? Or something?”
Evan nodded once. “Yeah. Sure.”
