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With an eye roll, she releases me and slaps my shoulders before stepping back. “Alright, don’t be nervous. I already told them we were coming, so they’re expecting you. I’ll wait out here, and afterward, we’ll grab food at the café. Sound good?”

No. Hell no. But I nod because I really need this grade, and at least the internship is paid. Maybe they’ll let me work from home. Emails, spreadsheets—I can handle that. I can so handle that.

“Good luck,” my sister winks, swiping her security badge to unlock the doors before gently pushing me inside.

The first thing I notice is the floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a panoramic view of the coast and the Space Needle in the distance. Grey October skies stretch endlessly. A massive wooden table dominates the room, flanked by black office chairs, a gigantic TV screen built into one wall, and—more plants. I focus on the ferns, studying their leaves to avoid looking at the two men sitting at the head of the table.

Apparently, I take too long because one of them clears his throat.

“Shilo Reed?”

That deep, familiar voice hits me like a freight train, and I go rigid.

I know that voice.

It’s the same one I hear at night, whispering things like doll face and baby, that was unsatisfying, thanks for nothing.

A voice I’ve jerked off to more times than I care to admit over the last two months, the weight of shame crashing down on me every morning after.

Like a magnetic pull, my eyes lift and lock onto his golden-green irises, burning into me like two hot coals.

Ryann stares at me, expressionless.

Next to him, his brother Declan smiles warmly, tilting his head in mild confusion. “Please, take a seat. We’re excited to meet you.”

But I can’t. I can’t be here. I can’t speak. I can’t do this.

As nausea churns in my stomach, bile rising from the pancakes Mom insisted I eat this morning, I do the only thing that makes sense.

I turn and run.

Ryann

“Our interview is here.”

Declan’s grating voice snaps me out of my concentration, grinding on my already frayed nerves. I shoot him a glare over the dual monitors I’ve been glued to for hours. Christ, I’ve got a headache.

“So go do it. I’m busy.”

More than busy. Absolutely swamped, drowning in spreadsheets and endless conference calls. We soft-launched our secret project today, and there are way too many bugs for my liking. Add to that the fact that I’m hungover as hell, and it’s a recipe for disaster.

“Nuh-uh, nope.” Dec drops into the chair across from me, the 3D model of Seattle I’ve been working on hovering behind him like a holographic shadow. “You’ve been sitting there so long you’re growing roots. Plus, we both promised Paige we’d meet her brother, remember?”

How could I forget? They roped me into this last week during lunch, when my dear fraternal twin’s girlfriend used those big brown eyes to guilt us into hiring her little brother.

“He really needs this,” she’d said. “Not just for college. He’s always been unique, super shy. He was severely bullied in high school.”

And somehow, the fact that he’s newly out of the closet got brought up, Paige no doubt mentioning it as a way to sway me.

“His first time with a guy didn’t go well... it ruined all the progress he made in therapy. Maybe having a gay influence would help?”

She said that to me, like I’m some shining beacon of queer mentorship. I’d scoffed at the thought. Me? Maybe as a cautionary tale of what not to do. Definitely not a positive influence.

“Paige is on her way up with him,” Declan continues, smirking at the murderous expression I’m sure is on my face. “If you don’t leave this office right now, I’ll have IT lock you out of your computer.”

He would, too. It wouldn’t be the first time. Bastard.

Growling in frustration, I save my work and push out of my chair, trailing after him toward the conference room.