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“You’re not even going to offer me a coffee first?” Thiago scoffs incredulously. I stare deadpan at his feigned shock. With a small shake of his head, he drags a laptop from his backpack, muttering to himself all the while. “I see they didn’t cover being a good host in your etiquette lessons.”

I tune him out, drumming my fingers on the desk’s surface. I’d felt so sure when I sought him out earlier, or should I say, so helpless that I couldn’t see any other option. Meg hates me. She hates me laying claim to her, interfering in her life, being in her general vicinity.

Unfortunately, she’s my drug of choice. My addiction. I can’t leave her alone, and I can’t accept that she’s chosen this chirpy nerd over me. Granted, she didn’t know I was an option, but she clearly doesn’t understand the playground bully dynamics. I’m mean to her because I love her, and it’s the only way to keep her in my life. Until now.

Thiago works in silence for several minutes, his humor fading into concentration. Every so often, he hums or mutters to himself.

“Well, did you find him?” I ask when I can’t take the sound of Thiago’s fingers tippity tapping his keyboard any longer. He doesn’t pause, nor does he look up from his screen.

“Patience isn’t your strength, is it?” Rolling my tongue along my teeth, I remain quiet, fighting against the urge to fidget.

Watching Thiago, I spot the moment his demeanor shifts. He’s all relaxed loose limbs and lazy smiles until the grin drops and the sharpness underneath comes to light. Sitting forward, his eyes fly around the screen as if he’s permanently living in fast forward mode.

That’s when I find myself lured into taking note of the finer details. The slight purse of his lips when he’s typing, the way he taps his foot when he’s reading, how his eyes briefly light when he sees something that pleases him. He’s engrossed by the digital reflections flashing in his gaze, slipping into a world that only he can make sense of.

I’ll give it to him, he’s clever in a way that doesn’t need to announce itself, and I wonder if it’s the way his brain ticks over that drew in Meg. Or was it his jokey, gentle, thoughtful nature? Sudden, bitter jealousy rises in my throat. He’s nothing like me. Not bound by rules or expectations, or hiding a secret that is bursting to be released into the world. That being said, Cody would hate the attention if we went public. He likes being invisible, as long as he has his vices. Music, art, weed, me.

“How long before I start questioning your capabilities?” I huff, needing a distraction from the downward spiral my mind is taking. Thiago huffs a little laugh, still not meeting my eyes.

“Why don’t you let me be the dashingly handsome and incredibly resourceful hacker, and I won’t comment on you being a moody, impatient nepo baby?” Grinding my teeth together, I glare at him, although I don’t have much evidence otherwise to argue. Leaning back on the sofa, Thiago stretches his neck and smiles. “I’ll find him. Harrison is a crook, but he’s not smart enough to cover his tracks completely.”

“Then why haven’t the cops picked him up yet?” I raise a brow at his unwavering confidence. This only makes his smile widen.

“I don’t think you know how the world works, my friend, but there are roadblocks such as jurisdiction, warrants and moral high grounds that the cops are bound by. Fortunately, I have none of those.” Returning to his screen, I open my mouth to argue that we’re not friends when he speaks again. “Now about that coffee…” Rolling my eyes, I stand and stomp out like a toddler preparing to throw a tantrum.

Ten minutes later, I’m placing two steaming mugs on a pair of circular, leather coasters. Thiago has moved, permitting himself to sit in my highbacked chair in my absence. Leaning my hip against the desk, I run a hand over my hair.

“I’m doing this for her, you know,” I state, feeling the need to fill the silence when Thiago seemingly doesn’t. Slipping his coffee, he barely glances away from the screen illuminating his face.

“Mmhmm, and it has nothing to do with easing your guilty conscience.” My eyes swipe to the side, staring daggers at the man who continues to ignore me. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know how I’m tied to two people running in opposite directions, splitting me down the middle. How my guilt at finding a pool of blood where Meg was heightened by telling the man I love that I couldn’t live without her. Regaining my composure, I reign back my glare.

“I won’t let her live with fear. It’s a death sentence for anyone.”

“And dragging her to Harrison's doorstep for a tea party isn’t? What are you even planning to do when you get there?” Thiago sets his mug aside, ignoring the coaster. I lunge for it, shoving a coaster underneath and splashing some of the boiling liquid on my arm. Hissing, I shake myself dry and lean my hands on the desk, fully scowling now.

“I’m going to show Meg he’s just a man. Someone who can be found, outsmarted and bested. We’ll bring Laura back, let her tell the cops where she’s been and Meg can finally stop searching the shadows for the next attack.”

“And Everest the Hero wins the girl, is that it?”

“She needs someone who is going to help her face her demons in real life, not in a video game.” That one gets him. Finally drawing his gaze up, Thiago tilts the laptop lid all the way down.

A stand-off forms, me standing on one side of the desk and him sitting behind the other, neither willing to relent. Well, I was here first. I’ve been here for Meg, looking out for her day after day. Silently celebrating her accomplishments and giving her a nudge in the right direction when she needed motivation to keep going. I’ve been keeping her close whilst keeping her shielded from my father’s attention. Something I never got the chance to do with Cody.

“No,” Thiago says after an entire minute has passed. “What she needs is you to stop believing she needs to be fixed to be happy, and to get this idea of perfection out of your head. No one is perfect. Except whoever invented curly fries,” Thiago quickly adds with more seriousness than I expected.

Standing and taking his laptop with him, Thiago crosses the room to pick up his bag, shoving his laptop inside before rummaging around for something in the front pocket.

“The world is made up of broken people who take pleasure and find joy where they can. It’s called reality. Feel free to join us sometime.”

Locating the folded paper, he passes it over. I open it to find an address scribbled upon it. An address located two states over, evidently in the same one Meg was rescued from before.

“You’d already found him?” I frown, the hand holding the paper starting to shake. It’s taking everything inside of me not to snap my fingers into a fist. “What the fuck have you been doing here the whole time?!” Smug as ever, Thiago takes his coffee back over to the leather sofa and has the audacity to wink at me.

“Playing Tetris mostly,” he grins behind his mug, drinking leisurely. “Good coffee, by the way. You could have a fine career as a barista if the whole billionaire’s son thing doesn’t work out.” I stand in disbelief, half prepared to smack the drink from his hand, but I wouldn’t risk the Persian rug. He really is unbelievable, but it’s me who looks away first.

With my jaw grinding, I set the paper aside and pace toward the window. The street outside is bathed in streams of streetlamps and shadow. Somewhere on campus, Meg is probably trying and failing to get to sleep. Or pretending she’s fine, replaying today’s disaster until her anger has nowhere left to go but inward. I can still hear her screaming at me. Still see the devastation in her face when my plan to defend her backfired. No one has the right to claim Meg. No one should ever take from her without asking, not ever again.

Resting my fists on the windowsill, I press my forehead against the cool glass. Why am I so determined this is the right move? The best way to help her? Exhaling, the glass fogs, and I allow myself to finally entertain the truthful answer to those questions.