He hands me a slice, his fingers brushing mine, and for an instant, everything else fades—the whir of the servers, the dim office light, the rest of the world. Just him.
“So,” he says, sitting back. “Another late night, huh?”
“Yeah. I’ll have to rebuild his presentation files and make sure the backups sync.”
He tilts his head. “Do you want company while you work? I mean, I’m already here. There’s nothing waiting for me at home but crappy TV.”
The way he says it—light, almost shy—makes something in my chest squeeze.
“You don’t have to stay,” I repeat, because it’s the polite thing to say, even if every part of me hopes he will.
“Yeah, but maybe I want to.”
Sean looks down, picking at his crust, and I think I catch the faintest blush on his cheeks.
“Well,” I say finally, trying to keep my voice steady, “I can’t turn down good company. Especially when it comes with pizza.”
“Perfect.” He leans back, satisfied. “Then it’s settled. You fix the universe. I provide sustenance. Teamwork.”
And for the next few minutes, we eat in comfortable silence, side by side.
Sean tells me a story about a meeting in Franklin’s office that went off the rails when Magnus’s tail accidentally knocked over an entire pot of coffee. I counter with the tale of the time I shorted the building’s Wi-Fi by plugging a surge protector into itself. Oops.
By the time we’re laughing so hard our sides ache, I realize something dangerous: I’m falling. Fast.
And maybe, just maybe, he’s falling too.
I look down at my pizza, pretending to focus on the burnt edge of the crust. “Thanks again. For keeping me company. And the pizza.”
“Of course,” he says. “I didn’t want you to eat vending machine pretzels.”
“That and you just like being the hero.”
He grins. “Guilty.”
Our knees bump again, and this time neither of us moves away. The hum of the servers fills the silence between us, steady and warm.
I could live in this moment.
I could stay right here—half a slice of pizza in hand, Sean laughing softly beside me, the world outside fading into background noise.
And I don’t even realize I’m staring until he looks back and smiles, small and quiet and a little shy.
Something shifts, like a current catching me off guard.
I swallow hard. “I should, uh… probably finish up Magnus’s setup.”
“Sure,” he says, but he doesn’t move. “Or we could just… sit here for a bit.”
That hopeful lilt in his voice unlocks something in me.
“Yeah,” I say, softer. “We could.”
We don’t talk much after that. We just eat, side by side, sharing warmth and silence. Every so often, his shoulder brushes mine, and each time, I feel it all the way to my toes.
10
POWER SURGE
