Who would’ve thought the guy you used to hate would be the one you’d fall for? I laughed to myself as I crossed the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. I’d just gotten out of the shower in preparation for Jeff and his crew’s arrival in what had become my Monday routine.

This morning, unlike the ones before it, I didn’t dread seeing Jeff—though I did dread being in front of the cameras with him again. I had to keep some sort of professional distance between us so the crew didn’t start asking questions, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to do it convincingly. I was afraid I might slip and say something stupid, something that would out us to the entire world after we’d both agreed we had to be discreet.

I still couldn’t believe I was feeling this way and I was having a difficult time coming to terms with it. How could I go on with The Flame and all of my various TV and in-person appearances telling people that love was bullshit, when I was very much in the thick of it myself? It might’ve been too early to use the L-word with Jeff, but how else could I describe it? Just thinking about him and the night we’d shared made my heart pound and my stomach flutter.

A knock at the door startled me and my palms started to sweat. I’d spent Sunday in a bit of a giddy daze, reflecting on the time I’d spent with Jeff and trying to assure myself that it wasn’t going to be a disaster. As I opened the front door and found Jeff smiling back at me, I felt anything but assured. He looked like he’d just had the best weekend of his life—and I hoped he had—which only convinced me that pretending like nothing was going on between us was going to be way more difficult than I thought.

“Morning,” he said.

“Good morning. Coffee?” I offered neutrally, knowing full well he’d already been awake for hours and didn’t need another drop of caffeine. Still, I had to play the part, had to keep pretending like we didn’t know any more about each other than we had the last time we’d filmed.

“I’m good, thanks,” he said as he stepped inside, Ross and the rest of the crew pouring in behind him. They set to work getting the cameras up and running, and not knowing what else to do, I sat down on the sofa in my usual spot and watched Jeff. He seemed to be avoiding my gaze—not that I blamed him—even as he sat down in the chair across from me and pulled out his pad and pen.

“What’ve you got planned for today?” I asked, crossing one leg over the other. He smirked at me, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before darting away.

“I thought since we’re starting the last week of this thing it might be cool to stop and reflect a bit,” he said and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. I’d done enough soul searching over the weekend, I didn’t want to do any more, much less about this stupid documentary and with the cameras rolling. Still, I didn’t have a choice, so I sighed.

“Fantastic,” I said and he chuckled.

“Please, contain your enthusiasm,” he said.

“Do you blame me?” I whispered and he eyed me as if he were warning me to be careful. Yup, this is definitely going to be next to impossible, I thought. How was I supposed to watch every little thing I said and did to make sure I gave nothing away? I guess I’d been doing it for years on TV and on the internet, but none of that could’ve prepared me for this. I took a series of deep breaths as the crew finished getting ready.

“Do you need a minute before we get started?” Jeff asked, suddenly all business. It impressed me that he was so easily able to switch the personal part of himself off—it must’ve come from years of experience.

“I’ve got my coffee, I’m good to go,” I said, though I didn’t feel good to go at all.

“Perfect. Ross, everything good?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, boss,” Ross grunted from behind his camera.

“Good,” Jeff said and held up three fingers to count down like he always did. The cameras beeped to life.

“Welcome back, everyone. I’m here with Kile Avery yet again. Today we’re going to be taking a bit of a detour. So far we’ve been focusing a lot on Mr. Avery’s work life and what it’s like to be an internet superstar, but today I’d like to focus more on Mr. Avery himself. So, tell me, Mr. Avery… What’s it like to be you?” he asked and I had to fight back a laugh.

I smiled and Jeff smiled back at me. I didn’t really know what he was getting at with the question but I didn’t have any choice other than to answer.

“It’s a bit surreal at times, honestly. I don’t really feel any different but it’s kind of crazy how much my life has changed in the last few years. Scratch that, how much it’s changed just in the last few weeks,” I said and Jeff looked at me knowingly.

“For better or worse?” Jeff probed.

“Mostly for the better, but there are definitely aspects of my old, more ‘private’ life, so to speak, that I miss,” I said.

“What’s gotten better for you?”

“Pretty much everything,” I laughed. “I mean, take a look around here. Five years ago, I would never have dreamed I could afford something like this. I was just a struggling theater kid living in Chicago and taking whatever odd acting job I could find,” I said.

“I see. What brought you to D.C.?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“The Flame. I knew I couldn’t run a political publication out of Chicago if I wanted it to actually succeed. So, using some of the royalties I’d made from my videos, I packed up my stuff and moved down here without a job or anything else lined up. I was determined to make it happen,” I said.

It struck me then that I didn’t think I’d ever told anyone this part of my history and the duality of the disclosure made me feel odd. It wasn’t just that I was sharing this with the rest of the world, or would be once it was edited together, it was also that I was sharing it with Jeff who knew next to nothing about me other than what I’d already told him and what he’d found out about me online.

“Wait, so The Flame wasn’t even in existence back then?”

“Not really, no. It was mostly still an idea I was kicking around in the back of my head. I’d been posting some written blogs on my website to complement my videos and they really started to take off so I saw an opportunity and decided to build on it,” I said.

“And build on it you did,” Jeff laughed.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t easy.”

“I imagine it wasn’t. It’s never easy to start up a new business and I bet it was even harder for a business like yours to get off the ground.”

“It was infuriating,” I said, remembering all of the bullshit I’d had to go through to even make The Flame a thing. “I had millions of views on my videos and I was pulling in crazy amounts of advertising revenue, but no one wanted to take a risk and publish what I had to say. I shopped the stuff around to several major organizations and they all rejected me.”

“They’re probably choking on their regret now,” he said.

“I hope so. It’d serve them right.”

“So what did you end up doing?”

“I went independent. I said screw it, if they won’t publish it, then I’ll do it myself. So I rented this little hole in the wall office, got incorporated, and off I went publishing on my shitty little website that I coded myself. Eventually, the written and video content started bleeding together so I married them and then The Flame was really born.”

“Wow. I didn’t know you started on your own.”

“I didn’t really have a choice.”

“But that just speaks to your drive and determination. It’s impressive. Having said that, and since we’re doing a little bit of navel gazing here, there’s another question I’d like to ask you about The Flame… What’s next for you and the publication?” he asked and I felt as if my stomach had dropped to the floor.

Truthfully, I’d been trying not to think about what came after we wrapped this project because I had no idea what I was going to do. I could always go back to being the incendiary head of the company but I didn’t really want to, especially not after this past weekend. Being the subject of this documentary had also proved to me what I’d known all along and didn’t want to admit: The Flame wasn’t my final destination.

More than all of that, though, I wasn’t looking forward to finishing this project because it made me wonder if, and how often, I’d see Jeff. Without the production schedule holding us hostage, what would he go on to do? I couldn’t imagine he’d stay at NewSpin, he was far too talented and ambitious for that. So once he landed a new gig, would he still have time for me? Would a new job even allow him to see me, or would we have to keep sneaking around?

“Kile?” Jeff asked, stirring me out of the spiral I’d fallen into.

“Sorry. It’s not something I’ve given much thought to,” I said.

“Your delay in answering said otherwise.”

“I see you’re feeling feisty today, huh?” I asked and Jeff smirked.

“Not feisty. Just pointing out what I see when I see it.”

“You’re perfect for this job,” I said and Jeff shook his head as his smile widened.

“And you’re perfectly avoiding my question,” he said. I’d missed our banter. It’d shifted, though, ever so subtly. Where before we’d taken cheap shots at each other designed to knock the other down a peg, now we were using it as a veiled form of flirtation, a secret that only we knew about it. It was arousing in an odd way.

“Well, once we put the finishing touches on this project I sure hope I’ll be able to keep seeing that beautiful face of yours,” I said and Jeff’s eyes went wide, only for a second, before he cleared his throat and sat up in his chair. Shit. Too far, Kile, I thought, my pulse racing.

“That’s wishful thinking, isn’t it?” he laughed, trying to cover up how uncomfortable he felt, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. I wanted to kick myself for being so stupid. I didn’t know what to say to clarify things, so all I could do was hope that no one picked up on the awkward moment, and that they instead took it as me being my usual sarcastic self.

“So you really don’t have any ideas? Nothing already on your agenda once we’re done with this?” Jeff asked.

“Honestly, no, I don’t. No one has approached me or offered me anything yet.”

“That almost sounds like you’re looking at opportunities outside of The Flame,” Jeff said. God damn, is he a robot or something? I thought. I hadn’t verbalized any of that and yet somehow he’d read it all from my words. How the hell does he do that?

“Maybe. It depends on what comes my way,” I said and immediately Joel flashed in my mind, his anger pouring over me as he eviscerated me for admitting that on a recorded program. But I found it hard to care in that moment.

I’d been wondering if I was doing more harm than good with what I was writing and posting on the site. As much as it’d pissed me off at the time, Jeff wasn’t entirely wrong when he’d criticized me on his show. At some point it’d become like some sort of race where I kept trying to outdo myself with the outrageous and controversial things I said. I stopped believing what I was saying long ago.

“Regardless of where I land after this, I think the world still needs to hear what I have to say,” I continued, trying to make myself sound more sure than I felt.

“I don’t doubt it,” Jeff said with a smile before raising his hand up and making a fist to signal the cameras to cut.

“What’s wrong?” Ross asked as he emerged from behind his camera.

“Nothing, I just thought Kile might like a break. I need one myself,” he said as he stood from his chair and made for the bathroom down the hall. I followed him, and when we’d rounded the corner and were out of sight, he whirled around and grabbed me by the arm.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

“What was what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Why did you make that comment about getting to see my beautiful face or whatever you said?”

“I thought it was funny, I was playing for the cameras. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Well, you’ve got to be more careful with your words. Are you trying to clue them in to us?”

“Is what you’re doing right now helping?” I asked and he sighed before letting go of my arm.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so intense. I’m just concerned. I don’t want to ruin things, not with this show and not with you.”

“Same goes for me, but you need to relax. No one has any idea and we’re going to keep it that way. Besides, the bantering is what people like about us, isn’t it? We can’t just drop that altogether or people will think it’s weird.”

“Good point,” he said.

“Jesus, I had no idea this was going to be so hard,” I said and fell back against the wall.

“What would be?”

“Balancing everything and keeping my distance.”

“I know what you mean. Every time I look at you I can’t help thinking about, well, you know… It makes staying focused way more difficult than it should be. The old saying ‘don’t shit where you eat’ suddenly has a whole new meaning to me,” he said and I chuckled. “But it’s worth it,” he continued, smiling at me.

“Yeah? I wish I was as convinced of that as you are,” I laughed.

“Why aren’t you?”

“I don’t know, I feel so tense. I’m always careful of what I say and how it might come across, but now it’s ten times worse than it ever was.”

“We’ll get through it. We’ve only got a week left before a lot of this stress disappears.”

“And then what? Your question got me wondering about that,” I said, staring him straight in the eye.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we won’t be seeing each other for work every day anymore so how are we supposed to keep this going?”

“We’ll figure it out. One way or another. Let’s cross that bridge when we get there,” Jeff said. “Anyway, I’m gonna use the bathroom before they start asking questions. You should get back,” he said and before he disappeared into the bathroom he slipped me a tiny, folded piece of paper.

‘Let’s cross that bridge when we get there,’ I thought, shaking my head as the bathroom door locked. Like we aren’t already. I unfolded the piece of paper he’d handed me and nearly burst out laughing—in a good way—when I read what it said:

It was almost like he’d learned from my own playbook of tricks. Reading the note a second time forced all of the doom and gloom that was in my head before out in favor of much more exciting thoughts.

Maybe Adam’s Diner really will become our dirty little secret, I thought as I tucked the paper into my pocket and slipped back into the living room with a spring in my step and a smile on my face.