and protected—and tired and very truthful. “I should probably get some sleep. And you need to go.” Oddly enough, he still felt the charge start building in the wood under his hands. “And I’m afraid I’m so tired that I might spill embarrassing true things before I’m emotionally ready to be that vulnerable,” he added, relieved when the building charge sort of fizzled out.
“But,” Simon said, his voice nothing but gentle, “if that was your lie, you didn’t want to transfer even before that.”
Alex sighed. “I like my job,” he said. “I like our office. I like how every holiday—every holiday—is celebrated. Yom Kippur, Ramadan, Imbolc. Cheryl at reception always has a banner and something on the white board. It’s not just inclusive, it’s… optimistic.”
Simon chuckled. “Somebody’s always celebrating something somewhere. Yeah. That’s what we wanted. It’s why we hired her, because she promised to keep that current.”
“It’s good,” Alex said through a yawn. “I mean, even though Lockhart is going through a divorce, you guys try to keep that… not awful. How do you do that?”
“Mm… me and Gabby met in prep school and clicked so well we moved on to college together. We met Chris when we were getting our MBAs. Lots of time spent in Starbucks, talking about what a business we wanted to run would look like.”
“The art on the walls,” Alex mumbled, really out of it now. “You picked that.”
“Guilty,” Simon said, and Alex did not imagine the kind fingers running through his hair. Last night had been so awful. Fucking dog just gone. And now she was curled up at his feet, perfectly content. The grief and panic and anxiety also just gone. Poof.
“It’s nice,” he said simply, because Simon didn’t do big blotches of color. Landscapes, almost all of them local, with a few trips to the ocean in the staff room, which was blue. The entire office was populated with beautiful, warm, imaginative places—so it wasn’t like you were stuck in a beige cubicle. There was always the possibility for adventure.
“You’re nice,” Simon told him.
“Can I see your paintings someday, Simon?”
Simon smiled a little. “Caught that, did you.”
“Um-hum.”
“Well, when you’re ready to tell me your truth, maybe I’ll be ready to show you my etchings.”
Alex chuckled a little, and it came out sounding dreamy.
“But now is not the time,” Simon said regretfully. “I’m going to help you to your bed now, and I promise not to do anything inappropriate. I simply would rather you not fall asleep here, and that’s what’s looking to happen.”
“Mm.”
Simon stood and took gentle hold of Alex’s elbow, helping him to his feet. “Which one’s yours?” he asked as they turned down the hallway.
“First one on the left,” Alex murmured.
“Nice.”
Single bed, because Alex and Barty used to be in the same room and the house wasn’t that big. But Alex had filled the room with bicycling landscapes—giant posters from the point of view of someone whirring through a forest or a desert or a beach. He’d used as much of his wall space as possible, so walking into the room—the largest of the two bedrooms—was like walking into a fantasy in which a cyclist had his choice of venues.
“I love to cycle,” Alex mumbled. “So free.”
Simon pulled back the comforter, and Alex curled up on the bed, snuggling under the blankets when Simon tugged them back under his chin.
“Alex?”
“Mm?”
“We’ve eaten together twice. Does this mean we’re dating?”
Alex giggled a little. “If we were dating, you’d have kissed me by now.”
“Mm. Next date, I promise.”
And he was there and warm and kind, and Alex didn’t care about passion. He cared about comfort. “Tonight?” he asked a little pitifully.
Simon’s lips against his forehead were regretful—and they left a tingle, a growing want. “I’ll stop by before sunset, just out of curiosity,” he promised. “But Audra and I have our weekly movie date and….” He sighed. “She’s been a good friend this last year.”
Alex regarded him soberly, so close. He smelled good—aftershave and cinnamon and wool from that amazing coat. That tingle was spreading, turning into a buzz. “That’s… that’s sexy,” he said, surprising himself. “Someone who keeps a movie date with a friend.”
“You value friendship.” It was obviously not a question.
“I do. I’d be sort of a dick if I didn’t value yours.”
Simon’s chuckle warmed the remaining cool places in his stomach, and the gentle pressure of the dog at the foot of the bed sealed the deal.
“Sleep well,” Simon murmured, and the next kiss was on his lips.
Alex opened