Page 25 of The Authenticity Clause
Call Leo into his office.
Acknowledge the lapse in professional judgment.
Reiterate the importance of workplace boundaries.
Agree to move forward as if it never happened.
It was a sensible, mature, and completely impossible plan. The thought of looking Leo in the eye and reducing that kiss—that dizzying, world-tilting moment—to a “lapse in judgment” feltlike a lie of monumental proportions. It wasn’t a lapse. It had been the most intentional thing he had done in years.
He spent the next hour pretending to work. He color-coded his inbox. He organized a folder of files that was already perfectly organized. He cleaned his monitor with a microfiber cloth until it gleamed. It was a masterclass in productive procrastination.
But the tension was a tightening knot in his chest. The silence was getting louder. He looked over and saw Leo get up to walk to the kitchenette. This was it. This was the moment. Avoidance was no longer an option. Avoidance was cowardice, and Julian Thorne was not a coward.
He stood, his movements stiff, and walked out of his office. He intercepted Leo near the wall of windows, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the team. Leo saw him coming and froze, a deer caught in the world’s most stylishly minimalist headlights. His knuckles were white where he gripped his sloth mug.
“Leo,” Julian said. His voice was steady, thank God.
“Julian,” Leo replied, his voice a tight, quiet thing. He wouldn’t meet his eyes, his gaze fixed somewhere on Julian’s tie.
Julian’s carefully prepared script of professional disclaimers evaporated. All the logic, all the sensible steps, they were useless in the face of the raw, undeniable reality of the man standing in front of him. He was left with only the truth.
“About Friday,” he started, his own voice now quieter than he intended.
Leo flinched almost imperceptibly. “You don’t have to,” he said quickly. “It was weird. The escape room, the adrenaline, whatever. It was a fluke. We can just forget it.” He was offering Julian an escape route, a clean, easy exit. The logical part of Julian’s brain screamed at him to take it.
But he couldn’t. Forgetting it was not an option. He couldn’t un-know the taste of Leo’s lips or the feeling of his hand on Leo’s jaw. He couldn’t erase the data point. And if there was one thing Julian Thorne did not do, it was ignore data.
He took a half-step closer, forcing Leo to finally look up and meet his gaze. Julian held it, his own expression serious, determined.
“I don’t think it was a fluke,” he said, the words simple, direct, and stripped of all artifice. “And I have no intention of forgetting it.”
He wasn't accusing. He wasn't demanding. He was simply stating a fact, laying a single, undeniable truth on the table between them. It was a data point that had changed everything, and he was not going to pretend it didn’t exist. He was a scientist, and this was an experiment he now had to see through to its conclusion.
He watched as a storm of emotions warred in Leo’s eyes—shock, confusion, fear, and something else… something that looked dangerously like hope.
Julian had no idea what the next step was. He had no flowchart, no projection, no precedent for this. For the first time in his professional life, he was operating completely in the dark.
And for the first time, it didn’t feel like a failure. It felt like a beginning.
Chapter 18: Reservations and Reboots
Leo spent the rest of Monday in a state of suspended animation. He moved through his tasks, attended meetings, and contributed to brainstorming sessions, but it all felt like it was happening to someone else, a highly functional avatar being piloted from a great distance. His own consciousness was still back at the wall of windows, trapped in the echo of Julian’s words:I have no intention of forgetting it.
The words were a terrifying, beautiful promise. They were a declaration that the kiss wasn't a mistake to be swept under the rug, but a data point to be investigated. It meant Julian feltsomething. It meant this impossible, ridiculous, heart-stopping thing between them might actually be real.
