I wonder about his lips, those soft crinkled petals that pout when he’s stuck, part when he’s thinking. His tongue entertains the corner of his mouth while he hacks at the work that keeps us here too late and too close for comfort. And yet, I’m aching to get closer.

I reach for the mints. It’s impossible to be stealthy with these—the rattle against the tin betrays my compulsion. Not even his too-loud Cherry Blue keyboard can conceal them.

He smiles, lopsided, at me while instructions fly from his fingers to the screen. “Sure, whatever, help yourself.”

“Want one?” I ask.

“No thanks.”

But I take two. I need them both to keep my mouth shut. Only pretty words will do for a guy like him. I say them over and over—I want you, I want you, I want you—as we sit together without speaking.

His typing stops, leaving us with his pensive breath and clock ticking on the wall. I want you, I want you, I want you. My voice screams in my heart and I look to the tin again.

He slides the keyboard across and cracks his knuckles. “Your turn.”

“You left me with an error, jerk.”

That barb in my tone is the best camouflage. So many reasons to hide—our desks are side by side, our team is so small, our boss is an asshole, I won’t survive the awkwardness if he doesn’t feel the same. And it’s fine. We don’t like the same music anyway. That’s reason enough to stay quiet… right?

The tin rattles beside me. In the corner of my eye, he shakes out two mints and pops them in his mouth.