Page 29 of Shattered Veil

“What…” Shawn’s steps slowed. “Wait, what do you think we do for a living? We don’t just—”

“Not the time, Brooks,” I rushed out. “Missing files, lost reports, important clients—quick! Before we get fired.” I pushed him ahead of me, calling over my shoulder, “Later, guys!” and we raced toward the exit.

The bell rang, the chilly air hit our faces, and the moment that the thudding sound of wood-on-wood was behind us, Shawn griped:

“Fuck you, man—do you have any idea how hard it is to chug a stout? My stomach’s gonna explode.”

All I did was grumble back an, “Mhm.”

“Why, exactly, are we lying about having to rush off to work?” he asked as we took quick steps back to the apartment complex. “The hell happened? You came outta there like you saw a damn ghost.”

“I fucked up,” I murmured, a vice continuing to tighten around my sternum.

“What? What’d you do?”

I pressed both hands to my eyes and groaned, “Oh, I fucked up.”

“Jay.”

“I…may have insinuated that I have feelings.”

Shawn’s eyebrows flew up. “What? I—when did you two even talk?”

“She caught me in the men’s—she was pissed.”

“Sneaky, Cas,” he muttered. “She said she was going to the bathroom, too. Super casual—convincing. Even I didn’t think anything of it.” Shawn rubbed his hands together briskly. “Mmkay, elaborate.”

“Elaborate?”

In a scolding tone, he said, “Dammit, Jay! I want dialogue. I want feeling. I want detail.”

“I’m not gonna recount the entire conversation, Brooks.”

“Well, give me something here!”

I recalled the expression Cassie had on her face when I told her I had been holding my feelings back—realization with slow-blinking, warm, brown eyes—and I told him:

“I…think she feels it, too? Or, I don’t know, feels something for me.”

Shawn let out a whoop, and I smacked his upper arm.

He whined, “Oh, come on—”

I retorted, “This is not a celebration.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” he shot back. “Yeah, it is!”

“I can’t go there with Cassie,” I reminded him. “I’ve told you this.”

He snickered. “Why, ’cause it feels taboo?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Exactly that.”

“Whatever, man,” he laughed disbelievingly. “She’s into you, you’re into her—I say you two crazy kids should give it a shot and not just torture yourselves. Life’s too short, man.”

I whined to the sky, “Brooks—”

“Nah, I’m not hearing your defense. I’m team Camie.”