NO MATTER HOW hard I tried to focus ondoing accounts or thinking about advertising options, nothing could quite tearmy mind away from wondering how Miles was doing.
I hadn’t heard from himall last night, and now it was mid-afternoon the next day, and I was startingto weigh up whether or not it’d be weird for me to text to check in on him. Thelast thing I wanted was for him to feel smothered, or like I was more worriedabout the situation than he was.
I was supposed to be makinghim feelsafe, not making him panic.
What I wanted to do wasdrive over to Emerson Medical and just… go and sit in his office.
Which was a new feeling. Itwasn’tthat I didn’tcareabout other clients, but Miles wasdifferent.And not just because he’d been a hookup before he was a client.
He’d bared his soul to meyesterday. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the trust that must’ve taken.
It didn’t help that Foxhad already found himself another client, and I was sitting all alone in ourcrappy, tiny office, staring up at the cobwebs in the corner.
At some point, I probablyshould have cleaned up a little in here. But clients almost never actually cameby, so it didn’tseem like an urgent task.
Thinking of, I needed to getback to the woman who’d emailed me earlier and tell her that we didn’thave anyone free right now.
I tried not to let on thatit was just me and Fox to potential clients. I wanted them to think we were anestablished, trustworthy company.
Weweretrustworthy,it was just established we were struggling with.
Unable to stand it anymore,I sent off a quick text to check in on Miles and let him know I was thinkingabout him. Not in exactly those words. I liked to think it sounded prettyprofessional, actually.
Just checking in.Everything okay?
I’d even managed not to askif he wanted me to come in, or drive him home, or… anything like that. Just acourtesy text for the guy who was currently signing my checks.
A sudden knock on the doormade me jump.
A client?
Great, just when I’d noticed thatthe place was a mess. Hopefully, they’d be too preoccupied with their ownproblems to take in the cobwebs.
“It’s open,” I called,wondering a moment later if I should have gotten up to answer it.
The thought completely leftmy mind when I saw who was coming inside.
“You can’t answer youroffice door now?” Logan said, his thick Jersey accent in full swing. “What kindof half-assed operation is this?”
I was across the room in aheartbeat, wrapping my arms around him. I hadn’t seen him since I’d movedback to Sacramento to start this business, and I’d missed him more or lessevery day.
He squeezed back, firm andfamiliar, and I took a handful of seconds to just appreciate seeing him wholeand healthy. I worried about Logan. He’d taken things hard since we’d both beendischarged, never quite found his footing.
I’d wanted him to work withme, but I understood why he’d said no. He’d still been figuring his shit out,and he needed more time.
The two parallel scars thatraked from his temple to his chin looked a little better than the last time I’d seen them, andI wondered about the matching ones across his chest.
Not that I was about to askhim to strip down or anything.
“Good to see you,” Imurmured in his ear before pulling back. “Reallygood to see you.”
“Still not gay,” Loganteased.
I snorted. “Disappointmentof my life.”
“I know, I know.” Hegrinned. “Whowouldn’twant this, honestly.”
“Pull up a chair. Take Fox’s,he’s not gonna miss it.”
