I grab my cart and head back. Sean’s at his desk, mumbling curses and pushing buttons.
I lean over his shoulder, cracking my knuckles like I’m about to perform digital surgery. A few swift keystrokes, one command prompt later, and the firewall stops screaming. I give the monitor a gentlepat.
“Firewall’s happier now,” I say, kneeling beside him again. “Try not to anger it anymore.”
He shoots me a glare over the rim of his monitor. “It started it.”
“Uh-huh.”
He groans, mutters, and sighs. Good. Grumpy but responsive.
There’s something about his irritable resilience that’s… charming. Dangerous for my heart.
I hand him another Splatter. “Here. This will help.”
“You trying to bribe me?” He glances up at me, and that blond swoop sways, sending my stomach tumbling.
“Think of it as hazard pay.”
He hesitates then takes it. “You IT guys are insufferable,” he says, but there’s a twitch of a smile.
“You’re allowed one small pleasure amidst the chaos,” I say.
He bites. Eyes widen again. Juice squirts. Gods, he’s making me sweat. My glasses slip, and I push them up.
“Holy hell,” he mutters around the mouthful. “These are criminally good.”
And then he laughs. Small, tight, amused. My chest does a little flip. Okay. Definitely attracted. This is it. I should call my mother.
“Happy to provide a steady stream of Splatters,” I say, my face warming. “Along with the IT support.”
And then Sean Rivers smiles at me. Not tentative. Not soft. A real smile. Bright and unguarded, the kind that hits me like sunlight after too many hours under fluorescent lights. Something inside me knocks,an instinct that rumbles low and primal. A part of me whispers before my brain can catch up.Absolutely not, I tell it. We’ve just met. He’s adorable, distracting, and probably terrible for my productivity.
“Thanks, Greg,” he says, and that smile stays right where it shouldn’t—lodged in my chest, radiating heat.
“No worries,” I mutter under my breath, voice low as I tell myself to focus. Be professional. Help the new guy. And maybe, maybe… flirt a little.
Because honestly the alternative is thinking about him all day, which is worse than any system crash I’ve ever fixed.
3
ERROR 404: BOUNDARIES NOT FOUND
SEAN
Tuesday morning starts the way Monday did: with me swearing at my computer.
The network login screen blinks like it’s mocking me. I type my password again, slower this time, just to prove I can be civilized. Nothing. The loading wheel spins. My patience spins with it.
“Of course,” I mutter, leaning back in my chair.
Before I can even think about calling for help, Franklin strolls by my desk, iced coffee in hand, with a cool, reassuring smile.
“Morning, Sean,” he says. “Happy second day. I have to tell you. My inbox and calendar have never been more tidy. You’re doing great.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, and somehow his simpleacknowledgment makes the growing inbox of emails on my screen feel a little less threatening.
I’m two seconds away from opening a ticket when a familiar rumble comes from behind me.
