Page 79 of Cava with My Colleague

“Now I’m not so sure.”

She draws in a sharp breath. Her hands grip the arms of the chair like she’s holding herself in place. Keeping herself from moving.

“We said professional only,” she whispers.

“We did.” But I don’t want her to go.

She doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

Izan sighs heavily from his bed, like he’s disgusted with both of us.

Jade breaks first, and looks away. I don’t want her to leave, and my stomach rumbles.

I pull out my phone and offer a compromise. “Why don’t we order food?”

Jade glances back at me, a little wary, a little hopeful. But then she smiles. “Deal.” She joins me on the couch, kicks off her shoes, and tucks her feet underneath her. There’s a little overlap of her knee to my thigh; once I hand her my phone for her to pick her food, I’m tempted to put my hand on her thigh, but I chicken out.

Instead, I scroll through the TV shows until we settle on an American crime procedural and the food arrives. We dig in, and Izan gives Jade his best begging eyes for a few minutes, but her attention is rapt on the TV screen, and eventually he gives up and plops down next to the expensive memory foam dog bed—not on it. Next to it.

I’m full, and warm, and Jade’s thigh is pressed next to mine and Izan is snoring in the corner . . .

When I next open my eyes, it’s dark. The streaming service asks “are you still there?” and Izan still snores peacefully. I’m reclined, pressed into the corner of the couch, my arms wrapped around Jade. My arm rises and falls with her chest, her breath tickles my neck.

What woke me?

I listen, quieting my breathing and willing my heart rate to calm down, and ignore the fact that Jade is pressed against me. My erection is an entirely different matter, but it doesn’t make any noise.

A car honks.

My neighbor’s TV is a low hum.

“No,” Jade says just under my chin. The word is clear and firm, and a few seconds later it’s followed by a twitch and a gasp.

I pull away just enough to see her face. Her eyes are closed tight, a frown marring her face. “Jade?”

Her eyes snap open and something hits my chin hard.

“Oh shit,” Jade exclaims in English. “Carlos, are you okay?”

She looks up at me with wide eyes, her hands on her cheeks and her mouth making a perfect O in surprise.

I taste blood.

I sit up and Jade follows.

“I am so sorry. Carlos?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I assure her.

“I was having this dream where . . .” Her eyes widen even more and her hands fly to her head. Her hair has been up in its usual ponytail all day, but now her hands scramble at it, pulling the band out that holds it up. Her fingers comb quickly through her hair and she inspects what she can see of her hair, slightly sagging in relief.

My bitten lip forgotten, I drop my hand down to the couch and grip the cushion. “A dream where what?”

Jade looks at me and raises for a moment. “A dream where all my hair falls out. It doesn’t happen often, but it feels . . . very real.” Her lips tighten.

“Hey,” I say, and reach for her. She comes willingly to me, and I settle us back on the couch, side by side. My arm is under her neck, and curls up to her shoulder. I use my other hand to smooth her hair back and then to run my fingers through it.