Page 10

I nvading Morgan’s showers was easily Lex’s favorite morning ritual.

He’d never get in the shower at the same time as Morgan.

No.

That wouldn’t have been as fun.

Instead, he waited five or ten minutes—depending on the day and his mood—before making his move. Just enough time for Morgan to get comfortable. To think there’d be peace.

Ollie was still asleep in the locked second bedroom—or pretending, like he had the last million times Lex checked—and the quiet was kind of cathartic.

It stopped the loud buzzing in his head for a while, anyway.

Lex jerked open the frosted shower door without warning.

Not quite as dramatic as ripping back the curtain at home, but—Morgan’s face? Priceless.

“You’re getting the floor wet,” Morgan grumbled, half-asleep and bleary eyed. Water dripped from his lashes, carved lines down his neck. “In or out.”

Every morning. Same conversation. Same delivery.

“In,” Lex said, already grinning. He stepped over the lip of the shower like he didn’t do this just to see how long Morgan would tolerate it before fucking snapping.

Morgan reached for the shampoo, his other hand settling at the small of Lex’s back. “I heard you up and down all night.”

“Too hyper to sleep. Ended up spending time with Ollie.”

Morgan hummed.

Lex crowded in close, chest pressed to Morgan’s back. Breathing him in before the soap and cologne could cover it all up. Simply Morgan—wet skin, steady heat, and that scent Lex would always tie to sharp hands and silk sheets.

Morgan didn’t move at first. He stood still beneath the water, steam curling around both of them. Then—grudgingly, almost imperceptibly—he leaned back just enough. Grabbed Lex’s arm and wrapped it around his waist.

Victory.

Water ran hot and steady between them. Lex pressed a kiss to the back of Morgan’s shoulder. Not demanding. Not greedy. Just there.

Not like last night.

Not like Ollie—shaking in the other tub, skin flushed and wet and crying so hard it steamed the mirror.

That wasn’t greedy either. Just desperate.

Different kinds of wet.

Different kinds of want .

Lex kissed between Morgan’s shoulder blades. Bit at the base of his neck. Laid his cheek against the back of Morgan’s head like it was made for him.

Morgan didn’t tell him to stop.

They stood like that for a while. Quiet. Breathing. Letting the water cool. It slipped in streams over Morgan’s shoulder, down his chest, and Lex counted every drop like it meant something.

Eventually, Morgan reached back and tangled his fingers in Lex’s wet hair. Tugged—hard enough that it almost hurt. Morgan turned enough to kiss him, water dripping off both their chins. It wasn’t a kiss that led anywhere. It wasn’t supposed to.

Just the meeting of tongues, slow and soft. Morgan’s teeth grazing his lower lip, hand pulling Lex lower and closer.

It was a habit.

A morning ritual.

The kind of kiss that said we still have time.

The kind that said the real world can wait.

Lex was the one to break it, breathless and grinning. “I’ve got to make myself halfway normal.”

Morgan blinked. Once. “You need to wash your hair.”

“Wash it for me.”

“You’re hopeless. Get out before I make sure we’re late,” Morgan murmured, but there was that distinctive smile in his voice.

Laughing, Lex moved out Morgan’s reach and slipped out of the shower.

If this life wasn’t the definition of perfect, he didn’t want to know what was.

The building looked near identical to the one at home—towering, cold, and desperate to seem more important than it actually was. Lex could almost shut his eyes and picture their staff at DVC.

Claire, the receptionist, greeting him with the same enthusiasm every morning.

Morgan never spared her a second look. Finn talking too fast, gesturing at everything like it mattered and breathing coffee through every word.

Steve coming out to steal the donuts from the break room, and then scuttling back into his office like some fat corporate gremlin.

Karen telling one of the junior associates her coffee wasn’t hot enough. Is this skim milk? I asked for almond.

Same vibe. Different place.

God, even the elevator was the same. Both buildings had probably used the same company, with the same bland blueprint. Glossy. Black chrome.

Lex had kinda been hoping for something a little… special.

“Should we have fed him?” Lex asked, tapping his foot. “Before we left.”

Morgan glanced up from his phone. “We’re only in the office for a meet and greet today. I’m sure he’ll be fine for an hour or so.”

“You think he likes cereal?”

“Lex. Stop talking. ”

Whatever.

Everyone liked cereal. Especially the one cinnamon kind, with the swirls.

Watching Ollie try to eat it, no hands, out of a bowl?

Cat. Total cat.

By the time the elevator doors parted on the top floor, Lex was practically vibrating.

The receptionist wasn’t Claire, just some guy that looked like he was barely out of high school. He didn’t look up when they passed, which—honestly?—Lex kind of respected.

They were shown straight through to the corner office—floor-to-ceiling windows letting in blinding morning light, sleek furniture that probably cost more than most cars, one dying plant in the corner like a hostage.

Mr. Huntington was already on his feet.

“You must be Alexander,” he said, extending his hand. “And you must be Morgan.”

Lex took it, gave him a firm, friendly shake and flicked on his company wide smile. “Lex is fine. It’s nice to meet in person, Mr. Huntington. We’ve heard great things about this location.”

“Just call me Gabriel. Thank you for complimenting the location you’re planning to dismantle by end of week.”

“I wouldn’t say dismantle , it’s more of a restructuring—”

“Firing over half of my staff sounds like destruction, Lex.”

“We’ll keep who’s necessary and replace the rest,” Morgan said, and he didn’t even give Gabriel the good grace to shake hands for fuck’s sake. He sat down in one of the high-backed chairs like it was already his.

“You can review the severance package and decide if it’s not enough. We’re happy to adjust.”

Lex leaned back in the chair, crossing one knee over his leg. “We want to make this as painless as possible, for everyone involved.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Gabriel muttered, but he didn’t look like he believed a single word coming out of Lex’s mouth. His eyes narrowed as he finally sat, the tightness in his shoulders never relaxing.

“You two have quite the reputation.”

Morgan paged through the manila envelope on the desk. He shuffled the top paper down, too loud in the loaded air. “We do our best.”

“There’s a couple companies that’ve referred to DVC as the executioners.”

Oh god, the irony was almost too much.

Morgan’s head snapped up, his mouth twitching in that half-smile before he wiped his free hand over it. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended.”

“Neither was intended. I’m…” Gabriel trailed off, licking his lips. “I’ve known some of these people for years.”

“We’re not here to rip apart your life, Gabe—”

“Gabriel, please.”

“Gabriel, I’m sorry.” Lex had to remind himself to smile, even though his cheeks were starting to hurt.

The damn fluorescent lights above buzzed like they knew a storm was coming.

“We’re here to save it. I know what it looks like on paper, but almost every company we’ve worked with has reported better numbers than the prior year. ”

“Almost?”

“Some,” Lex took a breath, weighing the words carefully, “some are too far gone by the time we look into them. Bad books, downturns, high CAC… the list goes on. They were already dead in the water before we touched them.”

Morgan flipped over another page.

“But that’s not the case here,” he said. “Your numbers are painfully lackluster. Nothing we can’t fix.”

Gabriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know our performance hasn’t been up to par lately, but I—”

“It’s not your fault,” Lex jumped in, shooting Morgan a look. “Sometimes all it needs a fresh pair of eyes. We’ve seen it all before, trust me. We’ve seen worse. ”

Gabriel didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t argue any further. Instead, he gestured to the papers on the table. Resigned. Reluctant. Like he already knew how this would end.

“Then let’s get this over with.”

While Morgan and Gabriel were talking particulars over paperwork, Lex had almost nodded off.

Twice.

Oops.

His chin had dipped forward once—just once—and then again, slower, like gravity had it out for him personally. The suit was too warm. The low hum of the overhead lights, the rustle of pages, the occasional drag of Morgan’s pen—it all blurred into something soft and lulling.

Morgan nudged his arm, and that was all it took. Lex sat up straighter, rubbed at his eyes, and decided he needed a ton of caffeine. More than humanly necessary. Maybe enough to resurrect a corpse.

The coffee poured, thick and dark. Not the same color as blood—not really—but close enough to remember.

Lex tapped his fingernails against the counter and watched it swirl. Ollie’s had mixed with snot and spit and something else. There hadn’t been a clean line. Just… mess.

Wait.

Did this place have the fucking company logo etched onto the side?

Porcelain cup. Nice engraving. Minimalist font.

If every office had ten of these… not to mention the break rooms, the meeting lounges, the open desk clusters—

Lex squinted.

He couldn’t do the math fast enough without a calculator.

It was a huge chunk of money going into something as stupid as coffee cups.

DVC used the Styrofoam ones. Squeaky and annoying, barely heatproof, but cheap as hell. Like drinking out of a damn packing peanut.

But then again—Styrofoam was single use. These could be washed. Environmentally better. Long-term investment.

His brain might as well have been soup.

Fuck. I’m too tired to care .