The words throw me. “You? You don’t have to?—”
“I mean, I can’t exactly rewire a server, but I can at least order food. You’ve been here all day already.”
My stomach growls in traitorous agreement. “You don’t have to do that,” I say again, even softer this time.
“I want to,” he says. “Come on. You’ve saved my ass like, what, three thousand times now? Let me feed you. Fair trade.”
That shouldn’t make me as happy as it does, but there’s no stopping the grin spreading across my face. “Okay. You win. Pizza?”
“Yes, it’s our thing, right?” He grins, and, gods, hasthere ever been a more perfect smile. “I’m on it,” he says, already pulling out his phone. “I’ll get three pies.” He pats his stomach.
I laugh. “You remember.”
“Of course I do. And I remember two wasn’t enough. You think I’d forget our first pizza date?”
I look at him, and something inside me aches a little. I thought he’d been avoiding me since that night. Maybe I pushed too far. Maybe he regretted it. But here he is—still smiling, still enticing. Maybe… not scared after all.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ve gotta grab a replacement system from storage. Meet me back here when it arrives?”
He gives a mock salute. “Aye aye, captain. I’ll bring rations.”
By the time I haul the new tower into the office, most of the building’s lights have gone into power-save mode, throwing the hallways into that strange half-light where everything seems to hibernate.
Sean’s not back yet, so I start setting up Magnus’s profile on the new system. My fingers move automatically over the keys, muscle memory taking over, but my thoughts drift.
To Sean.
To the way he’d looked that night, breathless and blushing and so alive.
To the soft noise he made when my hands touched his hips.
To the way he said my name—like it meant something.
I shake my head, trying to clear it. He’s my mate, sure,but that doesn’t mean I get to rush him. If friendship’s all he can handle, then I’ll take it. I’ll take every smile, every small kindness, every moment he gives me.
The door opens, and I swear the scent of pepperoni and sausage hits before the sound of his voice.
“Delivery for the overworked IT guy,” he announces.
He’s holding three greasy boxes, the kind that promise salvation, and a paper bag with drinks.
“You’re a hero,” I tell him.
“Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you.”
He sets the boxes down on my desk and slides into the chair across from me. “So, what did Magnus do, really?”
“I’ve been advised by counsel not to answer that question.”
Sean laughs. “He and Jamie...”
“Allegedly.”
He opens the first box, the smell of melted cheese and roasted peppers filling the room. “Okay, but hypothetically, if a certain someone managed to destroy the CEO’s computer in a fit of… enthusiasm, how bad would it be?”
“Hypothetically?” I grin. “They’d owe me at least three pizzas.”
“Then I’m saving you from filing that invoice.”
