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“You and your friends talk about me a lot.”

“No we don’t.”

“Haven’t you ever seen my infomercials?”

“Just the part of that one I saw over at your place. But you changed the channel right away.”

“You mean you aren’t watching me on You Tube?”

“No.”

“Wow, I assumed you were stalking me. A little, anyway. At least

as much as I stalk you.”

“Sorry, Pete. Now I will, since you planted the seed in my mind. I want to see this other side of you that you hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding it, but I guess I get it out of my system at work. It’s like I’m acting. That version of me is just a character I play.”

“Interesting,” I said, filling his cup. “Cream and sugar?”

“No thanks,” he said, taking it back from me. Our fingers touched. I pulled my hand away.

“I need to talk to you,” I said, guilt festering in my stomach. I walked over to the sofa and patted a spot on it.

“I can’t believe how nice you’ve made your place compared to mine,” he said, gazing around him as he sat down.

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing a pillow off the sofa and using it as a cushion to dull the hot, metal top of the radiator. I perched on it with my toes balancing on the arm of the sofa. “I can help you with your place if you’d like. Although I think your style suits you pretty well. You wouldn’t fit in an apartment like mine.”

“You don’t think so?”

“It’s not a little prissy for you?” I asked.

“Nah. Not at all. This is the look I was trying for when I dragged that old couch in from the street.”

“I’d love to help you. Just tell me when you want to pick out your paint colors.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” he said, taking a drink of coffee. His sleeves were rolled back showing the golden hair on his forearms. I hadn’t realized arms could be so hot… “Why are you way over there?” he asked me.

“I’m not ‘Way over there.’ I’m right here. I’m just trying to keep warm.”

“Okay,” he said, scooting over towards my feet.

So much for trying to get away from him. Now, once again, he was close enough to kiss.

“Nothing to film today? No new gadgets to push?” I asked him.

“Nope. So that’s cool that you got another day off,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“It is, but I am going to have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Just a couple of days’ worth.”

“Well, maybe more…”

“I think the snow is supposed to taper off tonight. You should be back at work tomorrow.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Would you believe,” I swallowed, “that I heard back from the producers of Bellamy’s Redemption already?”

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