Why We Fight (At First Sight 4)

“Both parts of you. Every part of you. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re a man or a woman. I just… care about you. That’s it. It’s that easy for me. Whatever boundaries you have, I’ll respect them. And if you can’t believe that, all I ask is that you let me prove it to you.”

I almost could. It was so close. “We can’t do anything about it now.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t suppose we can.” He sighed. “And we’ll have to figure out what we’re going to do when school starts again. It may take some time, but we’ll figure it out. There’s no deadline on this. At least for me. We have time. We can just… be

as we are now until we figure it out.”

“As we are now? We just jerked ourselves off where we work. I don’t know if that’s the best place to be.” I put my junk away, grimacing at the mess I’d made.

He laughed, and my heart twisted again. “Maybe not that part. But this? This is real for me, Corey.” He hesitated. Then, “I hope it’s real for you too.”

What had Vince said?

I would tell him it’s real, and that it always would be.

I took a deep breath. “Yeah. I think it is.”

He sounded relieved. “Then we just… keep going. Keep this to ourselves for now.”

Oh, this was going to be a mistake. “Good luck with that. You don’t know Sandy and Paul very well, but that idea’s already fucked. They’ll figure it out. I won’t even have to say anything. They’ll know. Somehow, they’ll know.”

“Then we’ll keep it going as long as we can. And I know they probably wouldn’t say anything, but I don’t want to risk it. I would say that I could step down as director now, but—”

I glared up at the window. “Like hell.”

“Yeah. I figured as much. I don’t think that’s the right thing to do either. But it’ll work. If we want it to. And we’ve already lasted this long. What’s a few more months?”

Famous last words. This was most likely going to blow up in our faces, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find a reason to care. I was weirdly giddy, and I didn’t want to stop it. “I wish I could see you right now.”

“I’m just on the other side of the door.”

I shook my head. “I know. But I meant how you look right now. Just….”

“I get it.”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“No. Probably not.”

Yeah. “We should get cleaned up.”

The door rattled as he pushed himself up. “Hit the bathroom. I can take care of myself in here.”

I groaned. “Phrasing.”

He laughed. “Yeah, yeah.”

I stood, looking at the door for a moment, fighting the urge to say fuck it and just go back in. Instead I walked down the hall to the small bathroom near my office. I closed the door behind me and locked it as I switched on the light. I froze when I saw myself in the mirror.

I looked fucking ruined. My dress shirt was mostly unbuttoned (when the hell had I done that?). The slacks were open and hanging low on my hips. There was spunk on my chest. My chin. A couple of splashes on the shirt and the suit coat and the tie. My lips were swollen from where I’d been gnawing on them, and my eyes were blown out.

We were in so much goddamn trouble.

I cleaned up as best I could, washing my hands before dabbing a wet tissue against the semen on the clothes. I honestly felt bad. Flavius could never know. Though, since he was a hairdresser, he probably would somehow. Hairdressers were omniscient that way.

Once I’d done the best I could, I adjusted myself before buttoning the slacks and shirt again. I splashed my face with water, telling myself to get back under control. I could do this. I could do this.

I nodded at myself in the mirror.