Jon settled the Kit Kat on the edge of the spoon he’d used for dinner and lined it up toward the candy bowl. He curled his fist, his tongue slightly poking out of the corner of his mouth, and slammed down on the spoon, flipping the candy high into the air and about ten feet too far from his target.
“Hey!” Rae said, rubbing her arm. She plucked the candy from the couch and tore into it, tossing the red wrapper on the coffee table. She’d shown up about an hour ago, begging Jon to let her take care of the trick-or-treaters since she never got anyone in the apartment complex she lived in, but his neighborhood had been pretty sad so far.
She tucked her feet up under her and continued to scroll through her phone, chewing and sighing. “I don’t know why you let Tommy talk me into this dating app thing.”
Jon shook his head and lined up another shot with a Hershey bar. “Pretty sure it was you guys who roped me in.”
“That doesn’t sound like me at all.” Her phone dropped from her hand and bounced across the couch. She pushed her short red hair behind her ear and snatched the candy bowl just as Jon made his shot.
“I don’t think I’m equipped to date in this generation,” Rae continued, shuffling through the bowl on a search for more Reese’s, probably. Jon had taken care of those pretty quickly, though. “These dating apps are all fine and good, until they meet me in person. Either they want a hook-up, or they give me that look like I’m wearing a warning sticker. Objects may appear fatter than they are online.”
“Then they aren’t worth your time.”
“Exactly my point.” She wrinkled her nose at her phone. “Maybe I should delete it.”
“Not a bad idea.”
Her brow lowered, and she adjusted on the couch, eyeing him. Jon couldn’t even drudge up a smile for her. After the day he’d had—whole weekend, actually—he didn’t have it in him to pretend. Even on Halloween.
“Why so glum, chum?” Rae asked, nudging his knee with her toe. He reached over for a Crunch bar and settled it on the spoon.
“Same as you, I suppose.” He slammed his fist down, and Rae moved the bowl to catch the candy.
“Dating app got ya down?”
He lifted a shoulder and fell back into the couch, eyes flicking to the door, praying trick-or-treaters would save him from talking about Cassidy. Or thinking about her. Or wishing things could be different.
Rae rumbled her lips and ripped into a Milky Way. “I can’t imagine anyone being disappointed getting matched up with you.”
He rolled his head and his eyes at her. If only his problems were with the app. The girls were let go today, and Cassidy’s worries about the taboo nature of a possible relationship with him weren’t unwarranted. It had taken all he had in him not to step in and defend her the moment he heard the accusations spilling from the billing office, but he knew it would only solidify any rumors floating around.
There was no official rule that they couldn’t date. There was a thing they had to sign that stated they would remain professional at work, and Jon was ready to take a pen to that paper, if only Cassidy was.
“Geez, something has really gotten to you,” Rae said, setting the candy bowl to the side. “You okay? Wanna talk about it?”
He didn’t, but that didn’t stop him from blurting. “Fell for a girl at the office.”
Her eyes widened. “When? Over the conference?”
“Partly.” He ran a hand over his face. “Mostly at the Halloween office party.”
“The one like, forever ago?”
“Three weeks and two days.”
“Not that you’re counting or anything.”
He managed a smirk at that, then let out a low growl at the ceiling. “I can’t get her off my mind, Rae.”
Her eyes filled with concern and empathy, and she softly asked, “Does she not feel the same?”
The memory of her lips on his, her smile, her touch battled with her words. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but she felt she couldn’t. From what he understood, anyway.
“I don’t know…” he mumbled. For a beautiful moment, he’d thought she had.
Rae dragged a finger across her forehead, sweeping her bangs to the side. Her gaze fell to the candy bowl, her voice slow and thoughtful and full of purpose. “Well, coming from a girl who knows quite a bit about unrequited love, you’ll never get anywhere sitting on your booty. You need the grand gesture.”
Jon raised a brow, but she didn’t elaborate. The thought had crossed his mind several times before that she was in deep with his cousin. Thomas was completely clueless, of course.
Then again, Rae could be talking about someone else.
Rae adjusted on the couch, snatching a pillow and hugging it to her chest. “Tell me about her,” she said, smile growing on her face and erasing whatever thoughts running through her head.
Jon chuckled, the first word that came to him amusing. “She’s a dork.”
“Jon!”
“In the best way,” he defended, dodging the pillow as Rae swung it. “She uses super hero references and has a collection of them on the top of her computer. She draws these unbelievably hilarious and witty comics, and loves numbers. I came back to the room covered in Post-it notes full of billing codes and notes and equations…” He stopped, the ghost feeling of Cassidy’s arms around his neck haunting him. He could’ve held her forever as she jumped up and down from solving the mystery of the missing money. She was a Marvel fanatic and a Nancy Drew and a Picasso and a Bill Gates.
“She’s smart. Beautiful. Fun.”
“Perfect?” Rae asked with a grin.
Jon snorted. “Far from. Thank god.”
She crossed her arms, hugging the pillow tighter to her chest. Her head tilted to the side, the tips of her short hair brushing her shoulder. “Have you told her?”
“What?”
“That you love her.”
He blinked, his spinning world coming to a halt. “I don’t… I can’t… We’ve only had a few nights.”
“All it takes is one.” The doorbell rang, and she reached for the candy bowl. “And believe me, you don’t want to shrug any nights off. Not when they are so hard to come by.”
She sidled through the space between his couch and loveseat, her cheerful voice greeting the trick-or-treaters at the door as she gave generous handfuls of candy. Jon mindlessly played with his phone, running his fingers along the edges. Would it make a difference—telling her? He hadn’t exactly laid all his cards on the table, always stepping aside and letting her go. That was the professional thing, the gentlemanly thing…
His heart thudded loud and strong under his scrubs, and his gaze drifted to his bedroom, black fabric sticking out from the second dresser drawer. Perhaps it was time for him to do the unprofessional thing.