Chemistry that blows up labs

"Good morning, just the two I wanted to see." Mr. Gold had ambushed us before we made it to the kitchenette. My head ached but I refused to admit that to Bryson or anyone but Joe. The events after tequila shots are slightly blurred. "Follow me please." Mr. Gold didn't offer us food or the chance to get any. In his office, I sat in the chair and Bryson on the arm like always. "So, I am going to have to do something I don't wish to." He folded his hands. "I need to split you two up for the day." My stomach twisted. "Bryson, you have tux adulterations all day. There are too many locations for bridal shops for you to go to Lawrence." Secretly I was grateful for that. "Joe is going to get into each other their system and try and pull the information. Bryson, you'll have to do the men's places. Lawrence, you will be running reports for Joe to collect data. I have noticed you're quite good with that." I shrugged my shoulders. The twins and I played a lot of online games, you learn to code as you go. "Questions?"
"Breakfast?" Bryson asked. Mr. Gold rolled his wrist to look at his watch.
"You have a half an hour to your appointment and it's a twenty-minute drive." He looked at him over the brim of his glasses.
"Speed eat, got it." Shaking his head, Gold dismissed us.

Bryson, as promised, scarfed down an entire plate of hash browns, eggs, and bacon in eight minutes. Since I wasn't leaving Forestons, I only grabbed myself a cup of coffee. Seeing Bryson's shirt, I walked back to the room where we kept our change of clothing for undercover work. I found a navy button-down with white anchors on it.

Bryson was nearly out the door when I got back.
"Hey," I called after him. "Call me between appointments." The words jumped from my mouth without permission. Immediately my cheeks felt pink, the whole kitchen had heard me.
"Anything for the queen." He beamed, I smacked his arm with my free hand.
"Change." I handed him the button-down.
"What's wrong with-" he looked down and saw the logo. "Oh. Thanks." He removed his shirt and my eyes instantly dropped to his scar. Everything was healed but the scar still stood. I wanted to trace the dent with my finger but I refrained. In my mind, it would feel hot, like the wound was still recent and the bullet had burned him. "Rene," He said softly. My eyes flickered up to meet his. "You have to let it go sometimes. I'm okay."
"I know, I know." I shook my head, trying to erase the memories of that night. "It's just a force of habit."
"Well at least try to notice the abs, I'm working hard on those." He teased. Smacking him again with my free hand, his skin felt warm.
"You better go before Gold hunts you down." I took a sip of my coffee.
"Right." He threw the shirt on and quickly started to button it up. Noticing he missed a button I handed him the coffee.
"Hold." He grabbed it as I fixed the top five buttons. Without permission, he took a sip. "Excuse me, is that yours?"
"It's ours actually." He said before he took another sip. After running my hands over the chest area to make it lay flat, I took my coffee back.
"Go before I smack you again."
"Yes, your highness." As I rolled my eyes, he was gone. I could feel every pair of us watching us from the kitchenette. Deciding to not put myself in an awkward position, I walked to Joe's small computer room.

The computer room had eight computer screens. There was more room for tech equipment than there was for the people running it. The room barely could fit both chairs. Feeling a presence behind me, I turned around. Joe stood with a coffee in hand.
"Interesting interaction you two had." He squeezed by me into his chair.
"Why did I have to tell him to call me?" I sank into my chair, embarrassed.
"Oh no, that was fine. It was the shirt interaction that piqued everyone's interest." My cheeks felt like mini fires on my face.
"Why is this my life?" I put my face in my hands. Joe chuckled next to me.
"Eh, it's not that big of a deal, you two are just a spectacle. The chemistry between you two is enough to blow up a lab." I laughed.
"At least we get a day apart." I glanced at the screen. The shop was opening and that meant so was the gun range. Deciding it would be best to wait a few more minutes to refill my coffee, I opened up all the apps I would need to run reports.

Joe and I worked side by side chit-chatting here and there but mostly working in silence. My head throbbed at the bright light and slightly due to alcohol lingering. Joe handed me a pair of black-framed glasses.
"They are blue light glasses, helps with the screens." He smiled.
"Thanks." Sliding the glasses up my nose, the screens softened from a stark white to a dull cream color. The lights weren't nearly as blinding.

Since I was only in my 20s, I grew up with technology and I was good at it. Mike and my mom sometimes get confused by how the computer works, whereas the twins and I know how to do cheat codes on online games. Running the reports to run against other reports was more tedious than an intellectual challenge, for me.

As agreed on, Bryson called every appointment to let us know what he was sending out. We talked about each mock alteration until he got to his next location. Some of the awkward encounters he had made Joe and I laugh.

My phone buzzed on the table. Annoyed, I flipped it over. In the past hour, I had been gotten three spam calls. This time, it was Bryson. I answered, before I could say anything Bryson was already talking.
"Get shoes on and meet me out front. Joe too." I rolled my eyes.
"Well, hello to you too."
"Do you want lunch or not?" Joe and I perked up.
"Are you buying?"
"Not if you aren't out there when I get there." Grabbing my boots, I quickly shoved my feet in.
"Say less. We are heading up now." I hung up and booked it for the stairs.

Joe came out only seconds after me. We both stood outside waiting for Bryson. The faint sounds of gunshots echoed in the background. A light breeze played with the tips of my hair.
"How long have you been growing your hair out?" Joe asked, mesmerized as he ran his fingers through.
"I don't know. I stopped going to a hairdresser in high school and would just cut my ends off myself."
"Have you ever colored it?"
"No, never. It's uncommon, but I like my color." Twisting slightly, I saw my hair over my shoulder. "It's actually my favorite thing about me."
"Your hair?" I nodded. "I think your smile." I couldn't help the smile that popped on my face. "I think Bryce likes your eyes, he looks at them a lot." My cheeks felt hot with the mention of Bryson.
"Well, I'm sure all of my beauty has him incapsulated." Joe laughed.
"I'm sure he is." As if on cue, his car rolled into the parking lot to the front door. Joe didn't even attempt to fight me for the front seat. We both just got in.
"Wow, you two were actually ready." Bryson teased.
"You told us to be!"

For lunch, we didn't go too far from Forestons. There were a few fast food places and a small sit-down diner. The diner used to be our favorite place to order from when used to live in the bunker.

The hostess, who was also a waitress, sat us at a table in the back. Our server looked nearly double my age. Joe was the last to order and in a panic. We knew what we wanted, almost the same thing every time. I got chicken tenders and fruit and Bryson got a burger and fries. We carried idol conversation about anything but work as we waited for our food. She came back with everything but my plate. Both guys dug in while I waited patiently.

Once my plate arrived, I dug in. Despite my missing fruit cup, I continued to eat. Reaching across, I grabbed some of Bryson's fries as he stole the smallest chicken tender. We had grown so accustomed to sharing the food we didn't even ask anymore, we had an unspoken rule.
"How can you just share food like that?" Joe watched us eat and hold a conversation like nothing was happening.
"Eh, it's what we do." Bryson shrugged. I was caught off guard when he answered. Usually, I was the one to answer about our behavior.
"Do you always share food?"
"We share everything." Bryson continued. My heart started to slam in my chest, anxiety building.
"Everything?"
"You can imagine my surprise when I saw him in my heels." I finally added in, breaking the tension within me. The guys laughed.
"We do share just about everything." Bryson continued again after the laughter stopped. I picked at the chicken tenders ahead of me. Without asking, Bryson exchanged my coleslaw, which I hated, for the rest of his fries.

We loaded back in the car after lunch to head back to Forestons. Joe let me get in the front seat again as Bryson drove. He grabbed a to-go cup of Coke before we left. Reaching into the console, I grabbed the cup.
"Excuse me, is that yours?"
"It's ours." I quoted him before I took another sip. He grinned at me.
"Fair enough. Just don't drink it all."
"Why? The ice will melt and make it water down and gross. You hate when sodas get watered down."
"Just because your right doesn't mean you get to be a butthead."
"Yes, it does." I still held the soda in my hand, Bryson was grinning from ear to ear. In my mind, I was very aware of how close his arm was to mine. He rested his right hand on the gear shift and center console, my left was tucked between the console and my body.

Back at Forestons we got out and let Bryson scurry onto his next fitting. I found it amusing that for once he has to do the awkward wedding things. As we shuffled down the hall Joe commented over his shoulder.
"The chemistry between you two is nearly tangible. I mean I'm afraid if I get too close the sparks would light me on fire." He smiled. As much as my heart soared at his words, I knew reality was my gravity, bringing my heart down to a crashing halt. I laughed hollowly.
"I'll try not to start a fire. Can't help it I'm beautiful and he's in love with me." I attempted to joke but the fictional words hurt my heart.
"Glad you're finally seeing it." He turned his chair away from me. I stared at his profile waiting for anything more, a word, a look. Nothing. Letting that wash over me, I turned back to my own screen.

The rest of the day my mind was stuck on Bryson. I thought of everything. Then I jumped to answer my phone every time he called. My heart was screaming for him but my head was trying to quiet the noise. Can your brain chloroform your heart?