A paperclip bounced off his keyboard, startling him.
“I recognize that smug expression. Are you done with the interface?” Shaniah grinned and threw another paperclip across the small gap between their desks.
Jay snatched it out of the air. “You’re a prime example of why open offices are a terrible idea.” He paused, letting the tension build before breaking into a smile. “Yeah, I’m finally done. I can’t believe it.”
It had taken months, the longest he’d ever worked on a project, but it was worth it. The final product would allow the school system to easily measure noise pollution around each building in the district, hopefully leading to a better learning experience for the students. It wasn’t curing cancer, but it was something.
Jay had joined ZonTech straight out of college, when it was still a start-up, after hearing about their mission of using technology to track environmental pollution. And maybe notevery project of the past few years had been entirely altruistic, but Jay was happy to make a difference when he could.
“That’s huge. We can finally start testing the whole thing instead of bits and pieces.” Shaniah clapped her hands together, excitement written all over her face. “We have to celebrate! Happy hour?”
Their small team of programmers took any excuse to go out and drink craft beers while talking shop, and though Jay loved each and every one of his coworkers, he wasn’t in the mood. The entire week had dragged by in a dark cloud, and he just wanted it to be over. Nothing had gone right—the code had given him trouble, he’d kept stumbling over the ball during soccer practice, and he’d slept through his alarm twice, causing him to skip the gym. Even his sisters had commented on his prickly mood when he didn’t use enough emojis in the family group chat.
They weren’t wrong. Jay hadn’t been his usual cheery self.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron.
“I’m not really feeling it.” He gave Shaniah an apologetic smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe next week?”
“Oh shit, I forgot.” She scrunched her face in a look of pity. “You just had a migraine, didn’t you? You probably don’t want to drink. Let’s do something next week.”
Jay nodded, grateful for the excuse. It wasn’t the main reason to skip drinks, but he had zero desire to relive last week—the blur of scattered thoughts, lingering aches, and the oppressive feeling of bone-deep exhaustion that lasted for days. It’d been his own fault. After over a year without a migraine, he’d grown complacent, pushing too hard without taking better care of himself. Impatient to finish the code, he’d spent most of the previous week staring at the screen and didn’t take nearly enough breaks. It had only been a matter of time before a migraine exploded through him.
And of course, it hit at the worst possible opportunity. He could still see the hurt and confusion in Aaron’s eyes. Maybe Jay should have stayed to explain, but the aura had been closing in fast. It wouldn’t be long before both light and sound became unbearable. Any extra words would have only sped up the inevitable. As it was, he’d made it home with seconds to spare.
“I’m so glad we get Summer Fridays. Got any plans for the weekend?” Shaniah started throwing things into her purse, as was her ritual before leaving work. Every morning, she arranged the contents of her purse on the desk, and every afternoon, she packed it back up. Jay had asked her about it once, curious why she needed three different types of lotion, but she’d just given him a look of pity in response.
“No plans. Just me and my couch.” Jay smiled and waved goodbye as she flounced off. “Have a good one!”
He had plenty of plans, but none that he’d share with a coworker, no matter how close they were. No one in his life knew he’d joined Chain Reaction, and he wanted to keep it that way. Maybe it could be his deathbed confession, just to fuck with whoever happened to be there.
A few more people asked Jay about his weekend plans as he made his way to the elevator. He smiled and repeated the same thing. It wasn’t even that much of a lie—he planned to spend the night onacouch, just as he’d done for the past few nights.
Theircouch.
The day after the post-migraine symptoms waned, Jay went back to the club to look for Aaron, desperate to find him and explain, to pick up where they’d left off. He’d circled the crowded space, his gaze flitting back and forth, staying long past his usual time because he was afraid to miss Aaron. By the end of the night, he had to admit defeat and drag himself home.
It was the same routine for the next few nights. He alternated walking around with sitting on their couch and watching theentrance. His stomach flipped with excitement every time a dark-haired man walked through the door, only to plummet in disappointment.
The late nights were hard on Jay. After he slept through his alarms on Monday and Tuesday, he reassessed his strategy, forcing himself to leave the club by midnight. The idea of missing Aaron by a few minutes haunted him on the drives home, hanging around him like a suffocating cloud of anxiety.
Why was he so obsessed with a man he’d barely met? Jay couldn’t remember the last time someone had affected him so strongly. His interest had been piqued the moment he noticed the willowy man at the bar with a forced smile on his lips as he rejected anyone who came up to him, and it had only grown from there.
As he was approaching Aaron, Jay told himself it was only to help relocate him to a less conspicuous spot. The bar was a central location, and sitting there signaled interest. Clearly, Aaron hadn’t been aware of that. All Jay was doing was helping a new member.
And yet, even after Aaron was safely deposited on a couch, Jay ended up sticking around. Laughing, trading easy banter, and feeling happier than he had in a long while.
It didn’t hurt that Aaron was exactly Jay’s type—the full lips quirked in a playful smile, the silky dark hair, just long enough to grab onto when things got heated, the understated muscles beneath his slim frame. The mesmerizing green eyes that revealed every emotion. Was it any wonder that Jay couldn’t get his mind off him?
He decided to expend his nervous energy by working out. It was hours before the club opened, and he’d end up moping around his house if he didn’t find something to distract himself.
Besides, going to the gym always put Jay in a good mood. Walking through the door, he was greeted by the familiarclanking of weights, the slight odor of sweat and disinfectant in the air, the low hum of never-ending activity. This was the one place he could forget about everything else and just be.
After changing into his workout clothes, he headed to the weight machines. Lost in the rhythm, sweat stinging his eyes, he could block out the rest of the world and focus on the burn of his muscles.
Halfway through the rotation, he sensed someone behind him. After finishing the leg curls, he turned around to see Kenny shifting from foot to foot, looking awkward.
“Hey, Kenny. You waiting for the machine?” Jay sprang up and wiped down the seat.
