Page 23 of Todd
“Okay, then let me ask that question differently.” Cory leaned forward in his chair, fixing Todd with a steady stare. “Something happened between you two. Are you ever going to talk about it?”
Every instinct Todd possessed screamed at him to deflect, to change the subject, to maintain the careful facade he’d been building for eighteen months. But as he looked at his two friends, he saw something that made his chest tighten with unexpected emotion. Concern. Genuine, brotherly concern.
Casper sighed heavily, the sound carrying weight that spoke of his own experiences with complicated relationships. “Maybe it’s something you need to unload, brother.”
The silence stretched between them, filled with the whisper of evening wind through distant trees. Todd stared out at the vista that had become his sanctuary, the endless expanse of sky and mountain that usually brought him peace. Finally, the words came, although reluctant and halting, but honest in a way he hadn’t been with anyone in far too long.
“Something happened. Once. Before she was hired.” His voice was rough with emotion he’d been suppressing for too long. “But that’s all it could be. No one else knows there was ever anything between us.”
The admission hung in the air like a confession, and Todd braced himself for judgment, for questions he wasn’t ready to answer.
Instead, both men started chuckling again.
“Man, who are you kidding?” Cory asked, shaking his head with exasperation. “Everybody knows.”
The blood drained from Todd’s face so fast he felt dizzy. “What do you mean, everybody knows?”
“The two of you are different around each other,” Cory explained patiently. “Oh, you try to hide it, and you do a decent job most of the time. But there’s something in the air that crackles between you two. Sometimes it looks like affection, and other times I think she might want to stab you in the back.”
Casper’s chuckle was rich with understanding. “It’s been a long time since I was in middle school, but I gotta say thisconversation is fucking hilarious.” He turned his gaze back to Todd with an intensity that burned. “Why don’t you just try being honest?”
The simple question hit Todd like a physical blow.Honest.When was the last time he’d truly been honest about what he wanted, what he felt, what kept him awake at night staring at the ceiling?
He grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed, feeling the weight of months of careful pretense pressing down on his soul like a boulder. The truth sat in his chest like a living thing, demanding to be spoken aloud.
“I met her the night before she was hired,” he said quietly, the words feeling strange and dangerous on his tongue. “Neither of us knew who the other was. We talked, we laughed, we... connected. Really connected, in a way I’d never experienced before.” He paused, struggling with how much to reveal. “And yeah, I spent the night with her.”
The admission felt like stepping off a cliff. For so long, this secret had been his alone to carry, a precious and painful memory that he’d guarded. His eyes narrowed as protective instincts kicked in. “And that’s private. I’m trusting that you?—”
“Don’t even fucking say it.” Cory’s voice was sharp with offense. Casper nodded emphatically beside him. “If you think for one moment that we’d take anything you shared and use it against you or her, even in jest, then you don’t know us at all.”
The rebuke hit home, and Todd felt a flush of shame heat his cheeks. These men weren’t just colleagues but were brothers in every way that mattered. Of course, they wouldn’t betray his trust.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I know that. I’m sorry.”
He turned his gaze back to the endless vista. The evening air filled his lungs, cool and clean and somehow making it easier to continue.
“What I felt that night was way more than just something casual,” he admitted, his voice growing stronger with each word. “I think she felt it too, but we had no time to explore what we might have become. The next day, I really wanted to see her again. I was planning to drive back to town, find her, and ask her properly for a real date.”
The memory of that anticipation, that hope, made his chest ache with phantom pain.
“But when she walked out of Logan’s office as our newest Keeper, suddenly all I could think about was that we couldn’t let anyone know we’d been together. Maybe it was all those years of no-fraternization rules drilled into me in the military. Perhaps I was just panicking because everything felt so new and complicated… her, the job, trying to figure out how to navigate a relationship while being brand-new teammates. And I didn’t even know if she wanted to explore a relationship with me. It was just too fucking soon.”
He paused, remembering the chaos of emotions that had crashed over him in those crucial first moments.
“I had no way of knowing how Logan would feel about it without telling him what had happened. And I didn’t know what Sadie was thinking, what she wanted, whether she’d even want to try building something real or if it had just been a fun night for her.”
“That all makes sense,” Cory said gently. “So what happened?”
Todd’s laugh was bitter and self-deprecating. “My mouth happened, that’s what. I opened my mouth, and the stupidest shit in the world came out.”
“Hell,” Casper said with a grunt of understanding, “you just described every male on the planet.”
This time, Todd’s chuckle held a note of genuine humor. “If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it doesn’t.”
“Not trying to make you feel better,” Casper replied. “Just saying it’s tricky, trying to navigate workplace relationships. Never happened to me personally, but I’ve seen others try it. Sometimes it works out great. Sometimes it’s a disaster.”
Casper stood and moved to clap a supportive hand on Todd’s shoulder. “My sister dated a guy she worked with once. When it ended badly, he made her life miserable. She had to quit her dream job and move to a different state.” His voice dropped, carrying a hint of something dangerous. “But he paid for that eventually. I made sure of it.”
