“Well, after breakfast, Dominik did my laundry for me while I had a nap, then he drove me into town so I could peruse the used bookstore with a pack mule on hand. That guy can carry a lot of books.”

Archer chuckled. “Amazing. Hope you found some good ones.”

“Did you hear what Beau made me do?” Daniella added with a giggle. “I had to rub his feet!”

The group groaned appropriately, then there was a lot of laughter as the rest of them shared their servant-for-a-day stories. Archer half listened, his body humming with its nearness to Mateo.

Do something, his gut said.

Archer looked at Mateo. Mateo looked back.

Archer opened his mouth to say something right as the music got cranked up and Shania Twain’s “Any Man of Mine” started blaring. The other lounging employees whooped as they hopped to their feet and began pushing furniture back.

“Yeehaw,” Dominik cried. “Off your asses, everyone!”

Archer put his drink down, then stood and took Mateo’s hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”

They didn’t touch in line dancing, of course, but that something was still there, connecting them. Archer was intensely aware of where Mateo was at every second, like he was being pulled in that direction, as if his center of gravity was outside of his body and desperate to return to its home.

One song turned into several, and their eyes continued to meet, again and again.

Do something.

“Hey,” Archer yelled into Mateo’s ear as one song came to an end. “Do you want another drink?”

Mateo smiled, and for some reason it looked a little sad when he shook his head. “Thanks, but it’s been a long day. I’d better get to bed.”

“Okay,” Archer said. “Well…” It’s better this way, his brain reminded him. Safer. “Thanks again for … everything today.”

“You’re welcome.”

The other voice, the one in his gut, was finally quiet while Archer watched Mateo’s back disappear down the hall.

It’s better this way, his brain said again.

24 Secret

As the week went on, Archer’s brain started losing the argument.

It’s better this way, it said.

Mateo’s hand rested on Archer’s back.

It’s better this way.

Mateo’s nose burrowed into Archer’s neck during their tango.

It’s better …

Mateo lifted Archer like he was made of air in their pas de deux, before he set him down again and they stood chest-to-chest, breath mingling.

It’s …

Mateo’s lips.

It’s …

Mateo’s eyes.

… What was I saying?

The connection he had with Mateo was undeniable—almost palpable and only getting stronger. Mateo had to feel it too. And yet, Mateo was also choosing not to act on it. That was the only thing Archer could hold on to, the only thing that was keeping him from throwing himself at Mateo’s feet. Getting together now would be stupid, and they both knew it.