Wash Out

by L. A. Witt

  We both froze, halfway between holding on and letting go, his face warm against mine as a slow, ragged breath drifted across my jaw. He didn’t move. I was afraid to. What the hell were we doing? Because this wasn’t a friendly, comforting hug anymore. My heart was going crazy, and as close as we were standing, he might’ve been able to feel it.

  I pressed against his cheek. He pressed back. His five-o’clock shadow scraped as we both drew away a little, and then instead of rough stubble there were soft lips. Soft lips against mine. Tentatively at first—a cautious corner-to-corner brush—before one of us turned and the contact was suddenly full and deliberate. No tongues, but . . . Oh. God.

  I hadn’t been laid in a long time, and couldn’t remember anyone ever kissing me like this. Firmly, but not forcefully. Slowly, but not lazily. My whole body threatened to melt, and I decided I didn’t mind if it did as long as he didn’t stop because this felt a million times better than mourning my trident.

  His hand moved from my back to the nape of my neck, then up into my hair. I gripped the back of his shirt, using it to hold him against me, and tilted my head as I nudged at his lips with my tongue. He hummed softly as I deepened the kiss. His fingers twitched against my scalp. Holy fuck. This was . . . not what I . . . It wasn’t . . .

  It was so good.

  All day, I’d felt like shit when I’d felt anything at all, but now I was wrapped up in Logan’s arms and a long kiss, and . . . whoa. I felt amazing. Like the rest of the world was still out there, and it was still June sixteenth, but I was kissing Logan, so it all hurt that much less.

  He broke the kiss as gently as he’d started it. Our eyes met, and something zinged through me. A thrill, and arousal, and . . . Oh shit. Our surroundings were coming back into focus. The office. Where we worked. Together. Because we were coworkers. Crap.

  Logan gulped. So did I.

  Casually, we moved farther apart. I broke eye contact and tugged at my camo blouse and my sleeves, trying to give my hands something to do that wasn’t grabbing Logan and going back for more.

  “Um. Sorry.” Logan coughed. “That wasn’t . . . I didn’t . . .”

  “It’s okay.” I couldn’t look in his eyes as I took another step back. “It’s . . .” It’s the first thing I’ve felt today that didn’t hurt. “It’s okay.”

  “Is it?”

  Our eyes met again. His were full of nerves and fear, like he was terrified he’d gone too far. Which he had. We both had. I couldn’t say I regretted it, though.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said quietly. “We should, um . . .” I looked around, desperate for a diversion. “I need to get downstairs for my class.”

  Logan nodded. “Right. I’ve got . . .” He gestured at the training records he was still going through.

  We met each other’s gazes one more time, held them as if studying each other for confirmation, and then, without a word, moved to our respective desks. I didn’t need to be in the classroom for another twenty minutes, but I headed downstairs anyway before things could get any more awkward.

  God help me when I have to come back to the office.

  I sat alone in the empty office, staring at Casey’s empty cubicle while I tried to make sense of what had happened.

  Holy. Shit.

  We’d . . . we’d kissed? I couldn’t even say for sure who’d initiated it. I sure as hell hadn’t meant for it to turn into anything like that. Going in for a hug had been risky, since some guys weren’t touchy-feely, but it had seemed like the right thing to do in the moment. Like he’d needed it. And then . . .

  I closed my eyes. Warmth rushed through my whole body at the memory of kissing him. Deep down, I knew it had been a bad idea and would be an even worse one to do anything like that again, but whoa, it had been hot.

  God help me if I had to get up from this desk anytime soon. Shame it was a regular workday, or I’d have been slipping out of the office to the men’s room for a repeat of a certain Saturday. As if that would even take the edge off at this point.

  “Fuck my life,” I whispered into the silence. I opened my eyes, shook myself, and tried to focus on what I’d been doing. The inspection was coming up fast, and these records wouldn’t fix themselves, and I didn’t think Diego would accept I was busy mentally fucking GM2 as an excuse for not getting it done.

  That thought sobered me up in a hurry. My stomach somersaulted and I sat straighter, trying even harder to concentrate on the record in front of me. Being distracted by Casey was not staying focused, and I could not gamble with this job.

  Records. Fix. Inspection. Focus.

  It took some work, but I managed to scrape up enough concentration to get through several more records. I let myself go slower than usual, promising to make up for lost time when I came in on Saturday. Better to get them done right than done fast, and today it really was one or the other.

  An hour or so later, Sarah came back from her classes. Not long after, Casey did too. She was on and off the phone almost constantly, and he went right into working on something on the computer, so there wasn’t a lot of banter like usual. It was also hard to tell if the air between him and me was as tense as it probably should’ve been. He’d slipped in while I’d been down the hall getting another box of files, and he’d been on the phone when I’d come back in, so we hadn’t had the opportunity for averted glances and awkward hellos. I didn’t know if that made it better or worse. I wondered if what had happened bothered him. Did my presence make him uncomfortable, or was it easier since he spent most of the day with his back to me?

  I wasn’t so lucky—Casey was directly in my line of sight. Every time I pulled my attention away from my computer screen, my gaze landed right on broad shoulders stretching green camouflage. Then it would wander up to his neck, and I’d catch myself fantasizing about kissing along the side while I—

  Fuck. Get a grip, dude.

  I blinked a few times and forced my attention back to the records. It occurred to me that it was probably a good thing I wasn’t teaching any classes quite yet. I’d get distracted and forget what I was talking about. Or worse, get a hard-on.

  Which meant I needed to get this shit done before Diego decided to have me teaching after all.

  At three forty-five, Casey loaded his backpack with his laptop, some binders, and a stack of handouts, slung it onto his shoulders, and headed out of the office to his next class. Surreptitiously—I thought—I watched him go. My stomach was a mix of regret and anticipation. We shouldn’t have, and we needed to, and—

  Sarah clicked her tongue. “Would you two just screw already?”

  I jerked my gaze toward her. “What?”

  “Oh honey.” She laughed. “You don’t realize how obvious it is, do you?”

  “Huh?”

  Her eyebrow arched. “Do I look stupid to you, Mr. Carter?”

  I gulped. The casual openness in this office was great, but obviously it was a double-edged sword. I wasn’t sure I wanted to discuss my sex life—hypothetical or otherwise—with my coworkers. Especially when my hypothetical partner was also a coworker.

  Cheeks on fire, I cleared my throat and broke eye contact. “He’s hot, okay?”

  “Oh, you don’t have to tell me that.” Her tone was light, the smile audible even when I couldn’t look at her. In a conspiratorial whisper, she added, “I think he’s into you too.”

  You don’t say. “We’re coworkers, though.”

  “So what? Wilson and Fraser worked together just fine.”

  Weirdly, the reminder of Clint’s relationship with Travis didn’t make me flinch. That was a first. I cleared my throat again. “Except they didn’t work in the same office. They could get away from each other if they wanted to.”

  “Fair,” she acknowledged. “But even if things get awkward, it isn’t like Casey’s going to be in this office forever. Once he’s off light duty, that boy’s out of here.”

  My heart dropped. That did put things into some perspective. Casey was walking now. A
few more weeks—a few months at most—and he’d be recovered enough to return to duty. So even if we hooked up and things turned ugly, we’d only have to put up with each other for a little while. As long as we didn’t let it interfere with our jobs beyond a little awkwardness, it wasn’t like I could get fired for it.

  I still should’ve been pushing those thoughts away, but my mind kept wandering to that kiss, and suddenly the risk of temporary awkwardness didn’t seem so bad.

  I cleared my throat. “So, when he’s off light duty, where will he go?”

  “Probably back to a ship, I would guess.”

  I’d known that part of course, but there were a lot of ships at a lot of bases. “Like, one of the ships here at Adams? Or . . .?”

  Sarah thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Depends on where they need him. And if the Navy wants to pay to move him again.”

  The Navy was pinching pennies these days, but it would be just my luck that they’d need him on a boat in Norfolk or San Diego or goddamned Yokosuka or something. Or worse, they’d find a reason to keep him working right here in this office for the foreseeable future and . . .

  Fuck, I didn’t know if I wanted him at the next desk or as far away as the Navy could send him. I wanted to undo what had happened earlier, and I wanted it to happen again, and yeah, I was definitely losing my mind.

  Sarah gave a quiet, sort-of-muffled laugh, and I realized I’d been quiet—and staring at Casey’s empty desk chair—for way too long.

  She glanced at the door, then got up and moved toward my desk. Resting her folded arms on the waist-high cube wall, she looked right at me. “For what it’s worth, honey, he’s been so depressed since he came here, I’ve been worried sick about him. Losing his shot at the SEALs—that did something to his head, you know?”

  I nodded slowly, not sure where she was going with this.

  “Ever since you started here, though,” she went on, barely whispering, “there’s been something different about him.”

  “There has?”

  “Yeah. I can’t even describe it, but he’s seemed more . . . well, I don’t know what he was like before because I didn’t meet him until after he got hurt, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s more himself now.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek, eyes flicking toward his desk. “He’s also been off his crutches since my second day. That could be putting a, uh, spring in his step.”

  Sarah smiled knowingly. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She winked, and her expression turned serious. “I mean it, though—he’s into you. And just having you here has put some life back in his eyes. I don’t know if that means you boys should pursue something, or if you’re just eye candy for each other, but . . .”

  I cocked my head. “Am I hearing you right? Are you really actively encouraging me to bang a coworker?”

  Sarah laughed, shrugging, as if that would make her seem remotely innocent. “I’m just discouraging you from letting something pass you by. If you’re wondering if there’s something there . . .” She glanced pointedly at Casey’s desk. “I’m pretty sure there is.”

  “Enabler,” I muttered.

  She gave another laugh, patted my shoulder, and headed back to her desk. We dropped the subject, fortunately, but that didn’t mean it was far from my mind. So our chemistry was visible to our coworker? Someone who didn’t know we’d been standing there kissing a few hours ago? Why did that make me even more nervous about this whole thing?

  My thoughts didn’t stop whirring when Casey returned from his class. We exchanged a glance this time, but he cut his eyes away too fast for me to read anything into his expression. The hint of pink in his cheeks could easily have been from walking up from the classroom; ever since he’d ditched his crutches, he was sometimes a little flushed from walking very far. He was in tiptop physical shape, so it was probably pain more than exertion. I wanted to ask if he was okay, if I could help somehow, but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I was afraid to even speak to him. Like a conversation would somehow be more awkward than this taut silence.

  He took his seat again, and while he typed with his back to me, I watched him as my stomach fluttered with nerves. Was Sarah right about him? Okay, I knew he was at least into me enough to share a long kiss, but what about all the other stuff? About him being a little less depressed since I got here? And what the hell did that say about this morning’s hug turning into a seriously unexpected kiss?

  My neck prickled, and I cut my eyes to the right. I wasn’t at all surprised to realize Sarah was watching me. Even less surprised by the knowing smirk on her face.

  Shaking her head, she laughed soundlessly before turning her attention back to her screen.

  I tried to laugh, but I couldn’t. Knowing Casey was into me—or at least, that he was giving off enough signals to convince Sarah and me that he was—didn’t do much to unwind the tension in my chest.

  Interoffice romances, flings, fuck buddies—those could have happy endings, or they could be utter disasters, and that second option seemed to be the more likely one in most cases. If things progressed with Casey, I was putting my job at risk. He couldn’t get fired like I could. And if I lost this job, then what?

  But what if we can really do this without it blowing up in our faces?

  A chair creaked, jarring me out of my thoughts. When I lifted my gaze, Casey was sitting straighter instead of hunching over his keyboard. In fact, from the tilt of his head, it was almost like he was looking skyward.

  Then he slowly turned his chair toward me, and there was a hint of pink in his cheeks alongside the very obvious apprehension in his eyes and the creases in his forehead. “Hey, um.” He cleared his throat, gaze flicking away for a second. “Could you check your drawer for a folder marked Muster Sheets Q2? I think MA3 kept it in the bottom-left drawer.”

  I nodded and leaned down. It only took a second to find the folder, which I held out over the wall between us.

  “Thanks,” he whispered as he took it, and our eyes met one more time for all of a nanosecond before he turned back to his desk and I dropped mine to the folders spread out in front of me. My heart was going wild now. All we’d done was exchange a handful of words and some papers, and I was practically having palpitations. How long was this shit going to last?

  I stared at his back and swallowed. Oh yeah. Things weren’t awkward at all. Crap.

  And if it was doing him some good to have a crush on me or whatever it was Sarah had been picking up from him, would this awkwardness have the opposite effect? What the hell was I supposed to do that wouldn’t make things weirder or cost me this job?

  I knew Casey was gay. I knew how his kiss tasted. I knew what his body felt like when it was pressed up against mine. I just didn’t know what to do with any of that without all but guaranteeing disaster.

  Yeah. I was in way over my head.

  I wonder if Clint has any connections to other contractor gigs.

  My stomach was full of butterflies and my chest was full of nerves as I watched the admin building’s elevator count off the floors. When it stopped on the third floor, I had to swallow because I was sure I was going to throw up.

  The doors slid open, letting me out into the mostly darkened hallway. There were some voices and power tools, but I was pretty sure they were in the stairwell at the other end of the hall. This side of the building was silent. Typical Saturday.

  The training department’s door was open, and the blanched glow of the fluorescent lights confirmed what I already knew—Logan was here. I’d seen his car outside anyway.

  My plastic boot clicked on the linoleum, echoing through the empty building. Unless he had on noise-canceling headphones, he knew I was here. No turning back now.

  When I stepped into the doorway, Logan was already looking. His forehead was creased, his jaw tight—he didn’t have to ask if I’d just come to get a forgotten ID card again.

  I cleared my throat. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He sounded guarded.r />
  I leaned against the doorframe. “Listen, um . . . I know you’re working, but I . . . thought we should clear the air. After what happened yesterday.”

  Logan sat up, eyeing me uneasily. “Yeah, okay. Probably not a bad idea.”

  We held each other’s gazes.

  You want to start?

  Oh hell, I have no idea where to start.

  Yeah me neither.

  Shit.

  I’d rehearsed a million things last night and on the way here, but I didn’t know how to say them now. The fact that we were in the office where we both worked made it a hundred times harder. I couldn’t shake the reality that we’d be tripping over each other every day until one of us changed jobs, so if this conversation went south, work was going to suck for a while. The pressure was on to get this right. As if it hadn’t been already because I really wanted to get this right; I didn’t want things to be weird with Logan, coworker or not.

  It was Logan who finally spoke. “Can I ask you something?”

  I’d usually fire off a smart-ass response like You just did or You mean ask me something else, but for some reason, I was tongue-tied, so I nodded.

  Logan tilted his head a little, and I swore he wasn’t just looking at me—he was looking into me. Voice soft, he asked, “How’d you know I was gay?”

  Oh God. Wasn’t that a loaded question?

  I considered my answer for a long time before I finally decided the truth was my best bet. “I didn’t.”

  “No, but you put fifty bucks on it.” His eyebrow rose slowly. “There had to be something that tipped you off.”

  My mouth went dry. There was no point in coming up with some bullshit answer. I was a terrible liar anyway. And hell, it wasn’t like things would get any more awkward around the office if I told him the truth.

  So, I licked my lips and managed to whisper, “No, there really wasn’t. It was, uh . . .” I coughed again. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

  Logan’s eyes widened. “Really?”