8. Adam

I walked into my office building feeling like I was gliding on a cloud. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the research center offices, with sweeping views of Denver and the Rocky Mountains on the other side.

"I love this office building," I said as I passed by Robert, a guy who had a tendency to yell and usually intimated the hell out of me.

He glanced up at me, and even his typical glaring look didn't bug me. "Ain't bad being on the fifteenth floor," he said.

I found myself smiling at him and willingly making small talk about the weather before heading on toward my office. My usual social dread was nowhere to be found, and instead I almost felt like I had something keeping me lit up from the inside as I strode past my coworkers and through the halls.

Was all of this just because I'd had fun at trivia last night?

Or because seeing Chase's face this morning had given me a rush of adrenaline that had stayed with me all the way to the office? Ever since he'd complimented my outfit, I felt like I had my own little source of confidence, radiating out from inside.

It felt good.

Way more good than I was used to.

Outside my office door, a junior researcher named Claire was hunched over her computer, her brow furrowed as she looked at a graph.

"How's it going, Claire?" I asked as I walked past, stopping at the edge of her desk.

She looked up and did a double take.

"Adam, wow," she said, her eyes going wide. "Didn't expect you'd be in today."

"Construction at my house," I said, feeling myself smiling at her, too. Where was this sunny, social butterfly inside me coming from? "You need help with that data?"

She glanced back down at it. "I just can't get the code to make the graph include my second data set," she explained. "It keeps pulling from the first one."

"Easy," I said. "Can I show you?"

She looked surprised all over again. "Sure."

I took her mouse and guided her through the steps to fix her graph, and it was done within a minute.

"Adam, that was so helpful," she said. "Thank you for stopping."

"Of course. Anytime."

"Usually you just head right into your office when you come in," she said.

"I don't want to bother you when you're working," I told her.

She shook her head, giving me a shy smile. "Stop by more often. I really appreciate it."

When I headed into the office I leaned back into the cool leather of the chair, letting myself sink in. Walking in here feeling like I wasn't my usual, lone wolf self had been eye-opening, and I'd only been here for ten minutes. Was this what life was like for confident people? Everyone smiling or talking, acting like they're happy to see you?

Maybe it was that simple. When I acted happy to see other people, they were happy to see me, too. But I knew I was happy because for once, I didn't feel like a loner. I had done trivia last night with someone who had actually chosen me.

Chase could have sat with anyone. He certainly had bunches of friends in every corner of that brewery. But he'd stayed with me, all night.

And I couldn't deny that it had only made me like him more.

As I got set up in the office, I realized that usually I'd have been counting the hours until I could go home. I loved being at home. It was my comfort zone, my domain, and a place where nobody could break my focus while I was working.

But here, there were multiple private offices like this one, that were reserved for flex workers like me who only came in on certain days. The company knew how to make even general-purpose offices as comfortable as possible. The chairs were soft, plush leather. There were more floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on mountains and pine trees below, which I could never get tired of. There was every statistical reference book I could ever want on the bookshelves behind me, and giant, crystal-clear monitors to plug my laptop into.

With the hallway door shut behind me, I could almost pretend I was alone while I plunged into my work.

I grabbed my insulated cup, taking a sip of still-hot coffee. I clicked around our current project database, pulling up the pages I'd been working on all week. I was usually a pretty naturally focused person, but the moment the rows and columns full of numbers filled the monitor screen, my mind started to drift.

As I'd walked past Chase this morning, I'd barely been able to form words when I talked to him. Not that I was usually much of a smooth talker to begin with, but something about him had been irresistible.

He looked hungover, which I had expected. But he looked damn good with the slight dark circles under his eyes and unkempt hair. I was sure that last night, he would have rather gone to the bar and tried to find a guy to hook up with, but he'd stayed with me. I couldn't say I loved the noise level in most bars, but I liked Jade Brewery, and I'd loved their trivia night.

With Chase there, I had almost felt normal.

It had been there before, too, during trivia and even on the first day he was in my house—a craving for him that took over my body every time I was near him. I didn't know what the fuck to do with feelings like that, especially when they were for another guy. A guy who was clearly very experienced.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my daydream. I took it out and saw Chase's name, and that little tug of desire only amplified inside me. He'd messaged me earlier this morning in reply to my thank you message, but this was something new.

Chase Blau: Also, wanted to let you know that I'm going to grab pizza with some of the guys after we wrap up demolition today. Please join us after you're done with work? I'd love to talk to you about a few things.

I chewed on my lower lip as I read over the text.

Talk to me about a few things? I had no idea what Chase would want to talk to me about.

I started to tap out a reply telling him no.

But something stopped me. How many times had I been in situations like these, especially back in college, where I just defaulted to saying no to any social engagements? Why did I even want to say no? Sure, I felt awkward socially, but the Fixer Brothers guys already knew me, and Chase sure as hell knew I was awkward.

If I didn't accept his invitation now, I was pretty sure I'd never accept it.

I forced myself to delete my current message and write out a new one.

Adam Richardsen: Sure. I can swing by. Pizza place a few doors down from the brewery, right?

I was supposed to push myself. And that's what I was going to do.

Chase Blau: You got it. Hell yes. See you there.

I'd already slid the phone back into my pocket before I realized I was smiling to myself like an idiot, all alone in the office. A knock on the door broke me from my thoughts, and I turned around.

One of my coworkers popped her head in.

"Oh, hi, Anna," I said. "What's going on?"

"Code red," she told me, panic on her face. "You remember the nonprofit client last month?"

"Oh, no," I said.

The client had been particularly difficult. Edgar, the main guy who had been in charge of their account at our company, had quit right after he'd finished his work on their project without any notice.

"They found tons of errors in Edgar's work," she said, wringing her hands. "They just sent back a long email that they've probably been drafting for days."

"So we're going to be on cleanup duty for Edgar's work," I said.

I could already envision how much data we were going to have to comb through. It would be doable, but it would take hours and hours.

"Let's get started," Anna said. "Mind if I bring my laptop in here and we can get started? Boss wants a reply out to them by tomorrow morning with a full diagnostic plan for the project."

"Tomorrow morning? Does he realize how many data sets Edgar handled?" I said, trying to keep my tone neutral even though the task seemed impossible.

"We are so screwed," Anna said, worry written all over her face.

"Hey," I said. "We've got this. We just need to get started and see what we're working with. Bring your laptop in."

It wasn't exactly the peaceful, independent day at the office that I'd been hoping for, but as Anna brought in her computer and materials, pulling up a chair on the long desk next to me, I knew it could be worse. I liked Anna, and I'd never felt uncomfortable around her. We were often assigned to projects together, and she was one of the most brilliant statisticians I'd ever worked with. But more importantly, we'd shared lunch together a few times when we were both in the office, and she had told me stories about growing up in Korea knowing she was gay and being so afraid to tell anyone. Now she had a wife, a sharp, shrewd as hell woman who I'd met once at a work event.

I'd never considered Anna a "friend" because we'd never hung out outside of work. But maybe I'd been too hard on myself. Maybe Anna was someone that I could call a friend, even if we were both too introverted to ever ask each other to hang out.

Anna and I started delving into the screwed up data sets in the morning, and the next time I checked my clock, it was past one o'clock in the afternoon.

"Oh, God," I said, looking at the time like I was waking up from a trance. "We need to get some lunch. Want to order sandwiches?"

"Food. Yes," Anna said, squinting at the spreadsheet on her computer screen. "I need some beef. Roast beef, steak, whatever they have."

I knew if the Fixer Brothers guys were here, every single one of them would want to make some sort of dick joke about beef. Especially Chase.

Fuck.

I'd completely forgotten that Chase had invited me to get pizza after work, and I knew that was never going to happen now. Anna and I were going to be here late, and both of us would probably have to work from home until at least midnight.

"I was going to order the sandwiches, but the shop is two blocks away," I told Anna as I stood up. "I'm going to walk over, get some air, and make a phone call."

She grunted a response, still deep in her work.

A balmy summer breeze hit my face the moment I stepped outside, and I took a deep breath. A group of teenagers were sitting on a bench across the street, laughing and drinking smoothies. A guy in exercise clothes jogged by, smiling at me and giving me a wave, and a young woman in a sundress passed me, smelling like fresh sunscreen and shampoo.

Maybe numbers weren't all they were cracked up to be, after all. Right now, being out here in the real world seemed pretty damn peaceful and ideal compared to staring at screens in an office, no matter how much money I made.

I pulled out my phone, dialing Chase's number.

"My goodness," he answered. "A real phone call from you, Adam?" instantly the sound of his flirty, teasing voice gave me that now-familiar tug inside my chest.

"Hi, Chase."

"I would have thought you'd go for a text message over a phone call any day."

"Usually I would," I said. "But I have bad news. There's no way I can come to get pizza later."

"Fuck me sideways," he muttered. "I wanted to see you."

Curiosity stirred inside me. "Was there something in particular you wanted to talk to me about?"

"We can just chat next time you're able to," Chase said.

He was being cagey.

What could he possibly need to speak to me about?

"A client dropped a massive bombshell on me and my coworker this morning," I told him. "We're going to be working very late."

"Sounds awful," he said. "How about coming over to my place on Wednesday night, then?"

I paused for a moment, considering.

Just say yes. He wants you to be there.

"Yeah. Wednesday. I could do that."

"We can have a party, cram pack the place with people, blow out the speakers with loud music."

I snorted. "It's like you already know my favorite things."

"You know I'd never do that to you," he said. "No. Just us, maybe a beer or two, and hell, I'll even put on some soft, soothing piano music, if that's what you'd like."

"No need for that," I said.

"Anything for you," he said sweetly. I could picture the smile on Chase's face—the dimples, the crinkling up near his eyes. "See you then, Adam. I'll text you my address."

God, I liked him.

All of my usual social anxiety was still there with Chase, but it was like my insecurities took a backseat to how much I enjoyed myself every time we spoke.

I had moments where I felt like myself around him, which was saying a lot. Sometimes it took me months of knowing someone to even begin to feel like I could be myself, but with Chase, it was almost natural. It stirred up some affectionate place in my heart that was probably misplaced.

I walked the two blocks to the sandwich place and got in line, looking down at my phone as I waited.

ChillyIcyBlue had sent me back a private message, telling me that nothing got him off like my videos did.

Now that was the kind of compliment that could get me through the rest of my work day.

I jotted back a reply before ordering my food.

AdamDix: If you want the honest truth, during my last video, I thought of you specifically.

I was shocked when I got a reply a minute later, waiting for my order to be ready.

ChillyIcyBlue: No way. You thought of me while you had your hand around your cock?

I swallowed hard, my eyes darting around me in the deli as if someone would be able to tell that I was exchanging filthy messages. But everyone else was absorbed in their own phones, staring at the meat counter, or talking to somebody else.

AdamDix: I thought of you as I came, actually. I don't know you, but I like the comments you leave me. When I was about to lose control, I was hoping you in particular would enjoy the video.

ChillyIcyBlue: Hottest thing I have ever heard.

ChillyIcyBlue: Good God.

ChillyIcyBlue: Like, Adam, you have no idea. You're making me hard, and I'm at work right now, and I cannot be hard.

ChillyIcyBlue: Fuck.

I tried to suppress a devilish smile as I read his messages. I liked the way this ChillyIcyBlue guy talked, even if I still had no clue what he would be like in real life.

AdamDix: Think of me next time you come?