I scuffed a hand through my sweaty hair and tried tothink—not so easy when something inside me was still quivering withhow it had felt to touch him. But, fuck. He’d… Well. He’d looked at me like I mattered. Like he wanted me. Like he’d follow me anywhere if I just asked.
And then he’d left.
“I don’t think it’s what he wanted.” My throat went tight. “I think he was protecting himself. Protecting both of us, maybe. Or—probably.”
Shane took a moment to reply. “Sounds as if I’d like him.”
As if I might bring Finn around one day, have him and Shane meet so they could become friends. Impossible.“Yeah,” I said anyway. “I think you would.”
We let a moment of quiet stretch, Shane relaxed in his chair with the coffee mug in his hands, me slowly dissecting my croissant without actually eating it. The city hummed outside the window, sunlight cutting through a gap between neighboring buildings to fall across the tiles.
“You can’t keep supervising him,” Shane said eventually.
“I know.” There was no way I could be objective—I’d be lying to myself and Finn. He’d understand.
“So what’s the plan?” Shane asked.
“I’ll talk to Novak, ask her to transfer his evaluation to Tay—first-year fellow, nice guy. It’d be a development opportunity for him, too.” The coffee tasted bitter on my tongue. Just right. “I can still give advice or whatever, but I can’t be his supervisor anymore.”
“You got a reason ready for why it shouldn’t be you? Because they’ll ask.”
They would, yeah. Especially Tay, who seemed like the perceptive type.
“Blackout-induced Stockholm syndrome,” I said. “Or, you know. Some version of that.”
“Right—held hostage by aging New York infrastructure and a dying ventilator.” Shane paused for a smile. “Seriously, though? That’s the right call.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Even if it looks like I can’t handle the responsibility?”
“It’s not about optics—it’s about ethics. You’re doing the right thing, and sometimes, that’s hard.”
“Honestly, I’m more…” I shook my head and fell silent for a beat. “It can’t happen again. I know that. But God, I—if he were anyone else, if we didn’t work together…”
“You’d want to date him,” Shane finished quietly.
“Yeah.” Coffee, dinner, anything. It wasn’t like I hadn’t done it before, but it’d been casual. I’d never felt this burning urgency to know someone better. “So, you know. That sucks.”
“It does.” No sugarcoating—classic Shane. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t matter. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”
I breathed in deep. “Thank you.”
He leaned forward to clink his mug against mine. “Anytime, brother. You’ve got this, okay? And maybe, you know—he won’t be your intern forever.”
“No. But even a year from now, the optics wouldn’t be good. Plus…” I shrugged and looked away. “He’s hardly gonna wait around for me, Shane. He’s… First time I saw him, he was rejecting guys left and right.”
“Sounds familiar. You’ve dragged me to a gay bar or two, remember?” Shane’s voice carried amusement, and yeah, okay, I knew what I looked like. But it wasn’t the same.
“Not like that.” I shook my head. “He just got out of a shitty relationship, sounds like. He could have anyone.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want just anyone.”
“Maybe,” I echoed, unconvinced, and Shane’s face softened.
“Eat your croissant, Jesse. World might look a little brighter once you’ve had some sugar.”
“Is that what you teach your kids?”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
