Page 55 of His Holy Chaos

"There he is," Jude says, clicking accept. "The love of my life. The wind beneath my wings. The only person on this godforsaken team who knows what a merge conflict is."

The voice comes through the speakers. I wonder if he meant to leave them on.

"You've been gone for a week and everything is on fire. I hope you're happy."

"Ecstatic. What'd I miss?"

"Brennan deployed the new auth module to production without a rollback plan."

"Of course he did. Alfie, we deserve a fucking raise." Jude laughs. Alfie. I remember him. The boy who came with Jude the first time he showed up at my church, the leather jacket, the sunglasses. I've heard about him extensively since. Alfie is a constant presence in Jude's stories. Alfie said. Alfie thinks. Alfie would kill me if he knew.

"Hold on, let me turn on video. I need to see the bags under your eyes," Jude says.

"I know you love me, you don't need an excuse," Alfie says.

The screen flickers, and I catch a glimpse of the video feed from my angle in the armchair. A young man, ridiculously attractive, with olive skin, brown eyes, and honey-colored hair pushed to the side. Behind him, a dimly lit house.

"You look rested," Alfie says. "I hate you."

"I've been sleeping nine hours a night."

"Disgusting. While I've been here, alone, holding the entire infrastructure together with duct tape and prayers. And since when do you sleep?"

"Daddy makes me," he says, without looking at me. Alfie chuckles.

A pause. The sound of typing. "So. You're at his place?"

I keep my gaze on my book. I am reading. I am absolutely reading this page about Roman stoicism that I've been staring at for ten minutes without processing a single word.

"Yeah," Jude says. "Still here. And he's right there, by the way." He grins at me. "In the armchair. Pretending to read."

"I'm not pretending!"

"Yes, you are. You've been on the same page for twelve minutes."

"I'm savoring it."

"You're eavesdropping."

"It's my house. I'm not eavesdropping. I'm existing in a space I own."

Jude laughs and spins the laptop so the camera catches me, and suddenly I'm face to face with Alfie.

"Nice to see you again, Ford," Alfie says. "Jude talks about you constantly. It's unbearable. I know what you eat for breakfast. I know your thread count. I know about the laminated schedule."

Something tightens and loosens in my chest at the same time. I love that he talks about me. I'm less comfortable with how thoroughly he does it.

"Ford, this is Alfie. Alfie, Ford. Now you've met. Can we all move on with our lives?" Jude says, spinning the laptop back toward himself, but I catch the flush on his neck. He's pleased. He's trying to hide it and failing spectacularly.

"Not so fast." I set my book down and rise from the armchair, bringing my coffee with me. I pull a chair up beside Jude. "Alfie. I've heard a lot about you."

"I have to say," Alfie continues, leaning back in his chair. He has one hell of a smirk. "You're not what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"He said you were terrifying," Alfie adds, and a cat appears behind him, stepping delicately across the keyboard of what looks like a second laptop. Alfie doesn't acknowledge it. The cat doesn't care. I laugh, and Jude hides his face in his hands.

"Oh, is that so?" I ask, loving every moment.