Page 127 of Debugging Love

“I don’t want to blow your mind.”

All he has to do is kiss me and my mind is officially blown, but I don’t tell him that because he has his coding hat on. No need to puff up his ego any more by telling him his kisses make me feel like I’m floating in warm pudding while sipping southern sweet tea.

Morning, I type into my group chat with Morgan and Kayla.

Are you two in your jammies?Morgan asks.

Just my feet, I reply.

Overachiever,Kayla says.

I fill them in about my VPN situation. They both send me googly-eyed emojis when I tell them I’m at Chance’s. They know Chance and me kissed at Chai World. They don’t know that we logged a dozen or more kisses over the weekend. And they’re not about to find out because these texts are stored on JetAero’s servers for five years.

After wrapping up my conversation with the girls, I open BrainyJ. Chance and I work quietly until lunchtime when he walks over and pokes my arm.

“I’m hungry,” he says.

“Be my guest as long as it’s not fish.”

“I can’t eat fish in my own apartment?”

I flash him a toothy smile. “From eight to five, this is your office.”

“I don’t remember signing on for that.”

“You did, along with promising your workspace doesn’t contain asbestos or lead.”

“I didn’t read the fine print.”

I turn back to my laptop and resume typing. He pokes me again.

“Are coworkers allowed to kiss while teleworking?”

“Sure,” I answer. “They can kiss their pets.”

He bends over and plants his lips on the top of my head.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

“Let’s go get lunch.” His lips travel to my ear, and then to my neck.

I can’t work under these conditions. He interrupts my sigh with a kiss. It’s very persuasive.

I shut my laptop. My eyes catch his center monitor as I follow him out the door.

“You’re not mucking with my design document, are you?” I ask. Because why else would he have my design document open? And there’s no denying that Chance likes to muck.

“I’m just updating a few things,” he says hurriedly. “Come on, I’m starving.” He places his hand on my back and presses me forward. I spin away and redirect my steps to his computer. He beats me there and minimizes the screen.

“What are you doing?” I squint at him suspiciously.

“I promise, it’s nothing. I’m almost done. I’ll show you later today.”

I cross my arms and flick my eyes from Chance to the computer and then back again. My stomach growls.

“Did you hear that?” I ask.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

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