Chapter 26
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
PRESTON
I think I’ve cracked it. I think I’ve found the fix in the code that will generate the most accurate output Stable Diffusion has ever achieved. Now, if only the computer will hurry the fuck up and process the data with the updated AI algorithm.
Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
The sound of a pen bouncing on a hard surface invades my thoughts and my head snaps up to find the source. It’s Fitz, sitting at the workstation across from me. He’s studying me intently, and I suddenly wonder how long he’s been there.
“What?” I ask, annoyed and self-conscious at the same time. The swelling on my face has receded, but the bruising is still pretty dark. Madison showed me how to cover it up with makeup, but I’m not good enough at the application to hide it completely.
Fitz chuckles softly, but he doesn’t sound like he’s laughing. “I spoke with Sawyer.”
The words bring me up short. I thought Sawyer broke up with Fitz. What does he mean he spoke with Sawyer?
Fitz rolls his eyes and tosses the pen onto the table with a clatter. “Relax, Jesus, he broke up with me. He’s all yours.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Fitz shoves his fingers through his hair, then leans forward, arms folded across the table. “So can you stop being a jerk to me now?”
I jolt like Fitz’s comment physically slapped me in the face. “Can I—what?”
“Can you stop treating me like I’m the gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe?”
It takes me a second to understand he doesn’t mean actual gum on my shoes.
“I’m good at my job. I’ve been helpful in the lab. I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to without complaint. And now, I’m not even trying to steal your boyfriend anymore. So maybe you can conjure up a little common courtesy?”
I stare at Fitz, the Wernicke’s area of my brain scrambling to process all the words he’s tossed in my direction. When I finally land on something I know how to respond to, I say, “Sawyer’s not my boyfriend.”
Fitz regards me for a moment, like he can’t believe what he’s heard. Then he bursts out in laughter that sounds almost like sobs. “Sawyer’s not your boyfriend. Right. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…”
He shakes his head and walks around his workstation toward me. Leaning a hip against my desk, he crosses his arms over his chest. I don’t like how close he is, how he looks down at me from that angle, so I push my chair away and roll backward a few feet.
Except when I glance at Fitz again, he’s wearing a pensive expression.
“You really don’t think Sawyer’s your boyfriend, do you?”
I don’t know how to answer that question. Sawyer’s mine. He’s my best friend and my roommate. I guess he’s my lover now too, since we’re having sex. Does that mean he’s my boyfriend? That I’m his? He hasn’t asked me to be his boyfriend, though. Isn’t that supposed to happen first?
“I… I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
Fitz shakes his head. “I think, for all intents and purposes, you and Sawyer have been boyfriends for a long time. Maybe you don’t call each other that, but you certainly behave like a couple.”
I think back to the relationship I had with Madison in high school.
It’s not a great comparison, I know, but it’s the only reference I have.
Madison and I spent a lot of time together—when I wasn’t busy studying.
But Sawyer and I spent a lot of time together too.
Madison helped me with life stuff and I helped her with homework.
It was the same with Sawyer. Madison and I had sex occasionally.
I didn’t do that with Sawyer back then, but I do now… which means…
I blink at Fitz as my brain arrives at the most reasonable conclusion. “Oh.”
Fitz chuckles, but this time it sounds more resigned than bitter. “Yeah, oh.”
And Sawyer loves me—romantically, the way people do when they’re a couple. I could tell when we were in the bathroom at my parents’ house that he wanted me to say I love him too.
I do love him. But what’s the difference between loving a best friend and loving someone romantically? Is it the same thing, just at a larger magnitude? Or is it completely different? And different how?
“How do you know if you’re in love?”
Fitz’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Uh, I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask.”
“But you are.” I roll my chair closer. “You understand science and logic and reason.”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with—”
I push to my feet, chair flying across the room, and pace as my thoughts finally start transforming themselves into words.
“What are the parameters to love? Are there units of measurement that can be quantified and tested? If I can posit a hypothesis, then I can build an experiment to prove it. Then I’d have a definite answer. I’d know if I’m in love with Sawyer.”
Fitz raises a hand to stop my pacing. “First of all, I don’t think love works that way. There are no ‘units of measurement’—unfortunately. And second of all, you don’t know if you’re in love with Sawyer? Are you kidding me?”
“No, why would I be kidding? This isn’t something to joke about.”
“Oh my god.” He straightens and comes to stand in front of me. We’re about the same height, so I don’t have to crane my neck up at him.
Taking my arms in his hands, he stares into my eyes as he speaks, “Preston, of course you’re in love with Sawyer. How is that even a question? You nearly derailed my career because you’re so in love with him that you couldn’t stand to see him with me.”
“I… I didn’t derail your career.”
Fitz throws his hands in the air and spins around. “Jesus Christ, haven’t you been listening to anything I said?” When he’s facing me again, he holds up one finger. “You’ve been in love with Sawyer for god knows how long.
He holds up a second finger. “Sawyer and I start dating.” Third finger.
“You get super fucking jealous.” Fourth finger.
“You take out your jealousy on me by treating me like shit at school.” Fifth finger.
“I tell you I want to get serious with Sawyer and you freak the fuck out and go throw yourself at him. Have I missed anything?”
When he lays it all out like that, I can finally see how the dots connect. “No, I don’t think so.”
“And the argument only works because of the first premise—you’re in love with Sawyer.”
I run through Fitz’s argument again, testing his logic for any holes. I don’t find any. Which means… which means the first premise must be correct.
“I’m in love with Sawyer.” The realization is staggering and I drop into my abandoned chair. Then I jump to my feet again—I know how to answer Sawyer now. “I’m in love with Sawyer.”
“No, shit. I should start charging you guys by the hour.”
“I have to go. I have to tell him.” I scramble to toss my things into my bag and I’m halfway to the door before I stop in my tracks.
I’m in love with Sawyer—and I treated Fitz like shit because I only managed to figure it out now. Oops.
I spin around to find Fitz leaning against the desk, hands braced on either side of his hips. “I’m sorry.”
Fitz cocks an eyebrow. “What for?”
“For what you said, being mean to you.” I take a step toward him, hoping he’ll believe me even though he has no reason to.
“I never would’ve jeopardized your career, though.
I know I haven’t treated you very well, but I’ve always thought you were good at your job.
And I’ve said so to Professor Graves. You’re a—” How did Professor Graves put it? “—a valuable addition to the team.”
He heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, fine, apology accepted. As long as you start treating me with a little respect.”
I nod my head earnestly. “I will. I promise.”
Fitz makes a shooing motion with his hand. “Alright, get lost. Go tell Sawyer you love him. Christ, I need a drin—”
I’m out the door before Fitz can finish his sentence and it takes me no time at all to race home. When I burst into the apartment, Sawyer’s on the couch, laptop propped on a pillow.
“Hey,” he says, looking up from the screen.
I drop everything on the floor and rush forward. He sees me coming just in time to set his laptop aside and catch me as I launch myself at him.
“I love you,” I try to say while kissing him at the same time. It comes out more like I-ub-bu and I hiss as I bump my bruised face against Sawyer’s hard cheekbone. “Ow…”
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Sawyer maneuvers us so I’m sitting securely on his lap.
“Yeah, I forgot.”
He swipes his fingers gently across my mottled skin. “You’ve got to be careful, Pres.”
His voice is tender and his eyes are so filled with love. It’s so obvious, now that I know what I’m looking for. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to recognize it.
“I love you.”
Sawyer blinks, stunned, then a smile blossoms on his face—bright and shining and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Yeah?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Yeah. I love you. I do. Fitz helped me figure it out.”
“Fitz?” Sawyer’s smile goes a little strained around the edges. “I don’t think he likes us very much right now.”
I shrug. “I apologized.”
“I did too.” Sawyer relaxes. “We’ll have to make it up to him sometime. But right now… you love me?”
I nod again. “I love you. I wasn’t sure how to identify it at first. I didn’t know what the markers were. But Fitz broke it down for me and now I can see it. I love you. I love you a lot. I love you more than anything in the world.”
With each word that leaves my mouth, Sawyer’s smile grows wider. “I love you too, Pres.”