He nods.
Not sitting on my bed will probably make me more productive, but that’s his office. His writing cave. It feels intimate to intrude for actual work. Like I might steal the energy or something.
“You know, that’s actually a good idea, but I don’t want to invade your space. I can just use the table upstairs.”
He bites his bottom lip and smiles.
A flash of him standing over me at the table comes to mind, and suddenly, I think I know what he’s thinking.
“Okay, well, my office is open if you change your mind.”
“Thanks,” I say all too quickly.
He turns to leave, and it doesn’t take me long to realize that sitting at that table trying to work will be pointless because I’ll only be able to think of last night.
A few minutes later, I’m walking into his office and taking the chair across from him.
“I’ll never look at that table the same way again.”
His head drops back with a bark of laughter. “You and me both.”
Our gazes collide. I shake my head and point my finger at him. “No.”
“I didn’t say a word,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender.
“You didn’t have to. I know that look. It says, ‘Hey, how about we remember this desk the way we remember the kitchen table?’”
“Well, that wasn’t exactly what I was thinking, but now it is.” He laughs again.
“Uh-huh, sure, so what were you thinking?”
He hesitates. “I was thinking that I like this. Having you in here while I work. Your presence calms me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I’m a little shocked too. Actually, this might be a good time to tell you about—”
I cut him off with a shake of my head and then look at my screen. “Get to work,” I say and start filling in what I can for this application.
Two hours pass quickly, and suddenly, Beck is standing.
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks.
“Oh, sure.” I blink and then lean back. “I’ll come with you. I need a break.”
“How is it going?”
“It’s a lot of research and a lot of steps to start a business.”
My brain is fried trying to keep it all straight.
“True, but you’ll get it.”
We reach the kitchen, and he moves for the fridge, and I head for the snack drawer. We both grab a couple things and head back down the stairs. Neither of us says a word about who wants what. But oddly enough, we both seem satisfied with what the other chose.
Beck sits back in his chair, but I opt for the corner of his desk. I need a few more minutes away from the bright light that’s slowly melting my eyeballs.
“I don’t know how you can look at a screen this much in a day.”
