Page 11

Chapter Eleven

Justin

You know those weeks when the universe seems to be having a laugh at your expense? Well, it appears my entire digital life has decided to transform into a cosmic practical joke with me as the punchline.

First, there was the incident where my phone decided to blast “I’m Too Sexy” at full volume during a sales department meeting. I don’t even remember adding that song to my Spotify playlist, but it was obviously there waiting to ambush me with maximum embarrassment potential during Roger’s revenue targets review. No matter how many times I jabbed at the screen, it wouldn’t stop until I physically removed the battery. Dave still hums the tune whenever I walk past his desk.

Then there was the day my computer decided my laptop was a trilingual device, randomly switching between English, Spanish, and what I’m pretty sure was Klingon. I’d only just fixed that when my spreadsheets decided they needed mood lighting. The cells gradually dimmed or brightened depending on the numbers inside them, like some kind of corporate disco. Try explaining to the accounting department why the Q3 profits are literally glowing with pride.

But the crowning glory was last Thursday, when my laptop kept freezing during the most crucial moments of my presentation, turning my carefully rehearsed sales pitch into an awkward game of charades. Nothing says consummate professional quite like having to act out financial forecasts while your computer contemplates the meaning of life.

Luckily, every time something goes wrong, Drew from IT manages to fix it.

He’ll show up at my desk with those gorgeous brown eyes, perform his magic, and somehow, my technology behaves again.

And yes, it’s a bit sad that when something technical starts to go wrong, accompanying my flare of panic is a surge of happiness about having an excuse to see Drew again.

Somehow, watching his fingers fly so efficiently over the keyboard, his forehead crinkling as he concentrates, calms something deep inside me.

I also like the fact that he seems strangely resistant to my charms.

Most people respond to my sales-guy offensive like it’s a well-choreographed dance. I lead with a smile, follow up with a funny quip, and they reward me with a laugh. But Drew… He looks at me like he’s trying to decode something, like there’s a puzzle hidden behind my practiced grin. His reactions are unpredictable, ranging from that reluctant almost-smile to this look that makes me feel like I’m being dissected under a microscope.

It’s both unnerving and oddly thrilling.

I find myself wanting to prolong every encounter between us.

Like today, when he’s come up to fix my calendar, which has somehow scrambled my meetings so they are all occurring at midnight.

“Does tech support do a loyalty program?” I ask. “I’m starting to think I should sign up.”

Drew regards me solemnly. “Sure. We’ve got a special running this month. Every third technological meltdown comes with a complimentary existential crisis over humanity’s dependence on machines.”

I love Drew’s deadpan sense of humor.

I snort. “Sounds fair. Though if we’re going to have an existential crisis, can we at least get my calendar organized so we can schedule it at a better time than midnight?”

And there it is. The moment when the corners of Drew’s mouth quirk up in amusement before they settle back to a neutral expression.

“So, any advancements on your theories about why my computer has developed a vendetta against me?” I ask.

Drew’s shoulders stiffen. “We’ve run it through a diagnostic program, and nothing has shown up.”

Shit. I don’t want him to think I don’t trust him to do his job properly.

“I’m thinking I must have annoyed a technological god in a past life. Or maybe I’ve just skipped one too many software updates. I hear Windows holds grudges.”

His eyebrows draw together for a moment before smoothing out.

“I’d say that’s a likely explanation,” he says.

But while I enjoy joking around with Drew, I have a serious worry about my misbehaving technology.

I gnaw my lip. “The trade show is next week, and it’s really important my sales presentation doesn’t mess up. Roger is offering incentives for every new customer we get, and I really need the extra cash.”

Drew stares at me for a few seconds. “Do your cats need a gold-plated cat tower? I hear that’s all the rage among the feline elite these days.”

“Ah yeah…you got it in one. Tabitha has also been demanding a personal chef who specializes in gourmet tuna preparations.”

Drew smiles. A proper, genuine smile.

And it’s that smile that spurs me on.

Because I really want to share more of the real me with Drew.

I run my hand through my hair. “Actually, it’s slightly more complicated than that,” I blurt.

Drew’s dark eyes lock onto mine. The intensity in his gaze makes me want to keep talking.

“My mom’s car decided to die last week. If my bonus is decent, I can help her get something more reliable. She needs to travel to get to her job, and I hate the thought of her breaking down in the middle of nowhere.”

Drew blinks at me.

“So…yeah, I’d really appreciate it if my laptop doesn’t start narrating my slides in what sounds like Darth Vader having an existential crisis.”

My attempt to end with humor doesn’t really land. Something conflicted passes over Drew’s face before his expression switches back to neutral.

“You should be okay,” he says. “But I can do some more diagnostics if you want. Just double-check there’s nothing that will derail your presentation.”

“Sure. That would be great, thanks.”

I smile, and Drew gives me a hesitant one back.

“I should get started on those checks,” Drew says, already backing away from my desk.

After he leaves, I find myself replaying our conversation, going back over every word and expression.

“ You better pray to God you turn out normal, boy. I’m not raising some pansy who can’t even look at a girl right. ”

The voice is nagging, insistent.

Somehow, it’s easier to push that voice out of my head after spending time with Drew. Because the idea that someone like Drew deserves scorn is just so…wrong.

Drew, who has the nickname Techno-Genius because he’s so good at his job, who always explains things without making people feel stupid for not knowing.

Drew, who apparently spent three hours recovering Sarah from Accounting’s accidentally deleted wedding photos, refusing to give up until he’d retrieved every single one.

Drew, who last week helped Pete salvage a corrupted presentation five minutes before a client meeting, then spent his lunch break teaching him backup strategies.

Repressing my sexuality was initially all about self-preservation. I was living with a homophobe, someone who was already making my life a living hell if I did anything that deviated from his perception of what a proper man did.

And as much as I’ve tried to do everything I can to escape Bobby Ray, his voice still lives inside me.

I like how the more I get to know Drew, the easier it is to challenge the voice in my head. Drew’s presence always makes Bobby Ray’s voice grow fainter, like bad reception on an old radio.

But haven’t I always been worried about what my workmates would think if I started dating men? I work in a male-dominated industry selling sporting goods.

How long until the jokes would start? The sideways glances in the locker room at the gym, the whispered comments when I’m giving presentations? I’ve spent three years building my reputation here, becoming the guy everyone wants to grab a beer with. Would that stay the same after I came out?

How would Dave and Pete react if they found out I’ve been effectively lying to them ever since they met me?

It’s easier to keep playing the role of the straight guy who just hasn’t found the right girl yet than risk seeing disgust in their eyes.

From that perspective, I should be doing everything I can to keep Drew at a distance.

But my mind can’t help lingering on the way Drew’s whole face transforms when he genuinely smiles, the quiet confidence he has when he’s solving problems, how he gets this adorable furrow between his eyebrows when he’s concentrating.

The sardonic edge to his humor amuses me, but it also gives me the urge to discover what he’s like when all his walls are down.

I mean, getting to know him better can’t hurt, can it?