Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Lucas slid into the seat next to Kieran and asked, "I shot you some slides a couple hours back—did you get a look at them?"

Kieran had headed to Lucas's office once he wrapped up his own stuff, but they figured the conference room made more sense. It was roomier, letting them spread out and work shoulder to shoulder.

The rest of the crew had already bounced for the day, leaving just the two of them on the whole floor.

"Nah, sorry, didn't have a chance," Kieran said.

"No worries. Pull them up now and tell me your take. I get that two weeks on one deck sounds overkill, but this meeting's huge, so I wanna nail every detail," Lucas explained.

"Got it, sir," Kieran nodded, firing up the slides Lucas had emailed.

Everyone knew Lucas lived for work. He was all about knocking things out fast, so if he was cool with dragging this out over two weeks, it had to be make-or-break.

Kieran wasn't exactly a grind-it-out type—he did enough to skate by without drama. But for this pitch? He wanted to crush it, mostly to wow Lucas.

"This chart here—what crowd does it cover?" Kieran asked, pointing at his screen.

Lucas slipped on his thick black-rimmed reading glasses—always a killer look that made Kieran's breath catch for a second. He stood up, leaned over from behind to check the screen. His face hovered right by Kieran's; a slight turn and they'd brush.

Kieran's brain kicked into overdrive. Was this Lucas's subtle flirt? Testing the waters? He didn't wanna read it wrong and jump in first—risking his job—so he kept his eyes glued to the screen while Lucas broke down the slide, cool as ever.

Kieran's phone buzzed, yanking them out of it. It sat by his laptop, screen lighting up with Roan's name and pic.

Roan was his ride-or-die buddy, the one he often hitched rides with to work. Kieran cursed under his breath—he'd totally spaced that Roan was back from his Italy honeymoon on Sunday and jumping back in today. Forgot to mention the overtime too.

"Gotta grab this," Kieran mumbled, snatching the phone.

Lucas cleared his throat, straightening up and sliding his chair back a touch farther. Kieran missed the move entirely.

"Hey, I'm dipping from work now—pick you up in ten?" Roan said as Kieran answered.

"I'm pulling overtime for the next two weeks, so I'll just subway it home," Kieran replied.

"Overtime? Two weeks? What the hell for?" Roan asked.

"Big meeting coming up," Kieran muttered.

"Oh, hold up—are you with that boss of yours? Trying to slide into his world?" Roan teased, and Kieran could picture the guy's smug grin.

"Grab me at seven-thirty tomorrow morning, yeah?" Kieran dodged, hoping like hell Lucas wasn't catching any of this.

"He's right there, huh? That's why you're swerving?" Roan laughed when Kieran went quiet. Then, "Alright, alright. Good luck. Wrap it up and name a kid after me if it sticks."

"Hanging up."

"Later, loverboy."

Kieran ended the call without a goodbye, dropping the phone back on the table.

"Sorry 'bout that. What were you saying about the—"

"I've covered it. Everything else's in the slides. Check those," Lucas cut in.

Kieran frowned. Yeah, Lucas was a hardass perfectionist, but he was solid as a boss—always guiding folks who needed it. Snapping like this? Totally out of character.

"Right. On it, sir," Kieran said. If Lucas was dishing attitude, he'd serve it right back.

Two could tango.

Hours ticked by as they plugged away, only chatting when they had to. Kieran knew Lucas wasn't chatty, but this level of radio silence felt weird.

Lucas hardly glanced his way, even mid-convo.

Kieran snuck a few looks, trying to figure the guy out. Maybe he was overthinking—hadn't worked solo with Lucas before, so this could just be him. But nah, something was off.

"How 'bout we grab some food?" Kieran suggested. It was late, and his stomach was growling.

"You can call it a night," Lucas said.

"But we've got more to knock out," Kieran pushed.

"I'll handle the rest, no sweat," Lucas brushed him off.

"I can—"

"Head home, Mr. Reece."

Kieran blinked, caught off guard again. Lucas usually went first-name basis with everyone, keeping things chill.

Kieran couldn't recall the last time Lucas called him anything but Reece.

"Alright, night, Mr. Salazar," Kieran said, standing and gathering his gear.

Next day, Lucas was still iced over. Not outright rude, just distant and short. It grated on Kieran even more. He trusted his gut on people, and yeah, something was up.

He couldn't pin it, though. Couldn't be the club thing from Friday—Lucas was fine early Monday. But the switch flipped hard, and Kieran needed to know why.

He bumped into Lucas in the break room grabbing coffee. Lucas flicked a glance, saw it was him, and looked away fast. Kieran tried chit-chat, but got a bored reply before Lucas bolted.

"Heard the SoulTech meet went smooth. That's massive—"

"Thanks, but if you'll excuse me, back to work," Lucas said, not even a second look. Kieran stood there, baffled, wondering what he'd done to earn the freeze-out.

Any lingering doubts about overanalyzing vanished on day three at lunch with Nina, Miles, and Anwar. Lucas tagged along after Nina hyped the authentic Mexican spot.

Lucas sat straight across from Kieran but never met his eyes, even when Kieran spoke. Nobody else clocked it, but to Kieran, it screamed deliberate—especially since Lucas was normal with the others.

At one point, Kieran caught himself drilling stares into Lucas's skull without realizing. Anwar nudged his elbow, snapping him out. Kieran turned, and Anwar just arched his brows like, *What's eating you?*

"Nah, nothing," Kieran said, grabbing his Coke.

"Uh-huh," Anwar said, not buying it, but he let it drop. "This new jazz spot's opening—wanna hit it this weekend?"

"Hanging with Ro, he's back from Italy," Kieran replied.

"Ah, damn, don't wanna third-wheel these two," Anwar whispered, nodding slyly at Nina and Miles. "The will-they-won't-they is dragging."

"You and the whole damn office," Kieran grumbled.

Feeling the weight, Kieran looked up. Lucas was locked on him, face blank as a wall. Kieran held the stare but couldn't hide his slight scowl.

One minute, Lucas acts like sharing air is torture. Next, he's staring like he's reading your thoughts?

Kieran was done with the games; the vibe was choking him out.

He wasn't one to dance around crap or take BS lying down. Time to call Lucas out.