control
I was leaning forward to look at the screen more closely, and Eli was standing close enough to point at specific details.
The proximity was making it impossible to concentrate.
"Here," he said, placing his hand on the counter next to mine. "This moment. Right before the patient's expression shifts. If we adjust the color temperature here..."
His hand was close. Close enough that if I'd shifted even slightly, we would have been touching.
I didn't shift. I couldn't shift. Because shifting would mean acknowledging the physical pull I was feeling, and acknowledging that would mean admitting that I wanted him, and admitting that would mean being vulnerable again after he'd just established bounda