No, he still hadn’t texted her.

Yeah, she hadn’t texted him either.

An entire day had passed since a possibly accidental, definitely mind-melting orgasm without a single word being exchanged. Probably a very bad sign. What was the protocol on unplanned orgasms with a friend?

Hari had been in the shower for the past half hour while Vansh paced his room, which was so pristine it looked like no one had ever lived there, let alone been there for over a week now. Even the bed was untouched. Vansh pulled the plastic off the paper cups and set the coffee to brew.

Then he poured it into the tiny sink in the kitchenette because it tasted like something regurgitated after a digestive episode. Finally, Hari stepped out in his new navy golf shirt and khakis.

“Very spiffy,” Vansh said, and a blush spread across Hari’s round face, his newly shaved skin going blotchy with self-consciousness.

Hari bounced a hand against his freshly cut, spiked hair. The hairdresser had shown him how to use the gel she’d sold him, and he’d aggressively gone at it this morning with the spikes. Go, Hari!

“Do I look like a porcupine?” he said, studying himself in the mirror.

“It would have to be a very well-groomed porcupine. You look ready to take on the world.”

That made panic tug Hari’s mouth down in a frown, and Vansh knew he had said something triggering.

“I don’t want to take on the world. My partner kept saying things like that.” He patted down his hair with shaking hands, flattening the porcupine into a hedgehog.

“Don’t do that. It looked good. No one is going to make you do something you don’t want to. I promise. You’re not signing anything over. We can do some real good here. Let’s spike that up again.” Vansh plucked at his hair. “Can you try to trust me, please?”

Hari took a breath, nodded, and went to the mirror and spiked his hair back up. Then, turning his nervous eyes on Vansh, he gave him what could only be called a worshipful look. “Of course I trust you. It’s eight A.M. on a Monday. You drove all the way from Woodside to San Francisco. You could be sleeping in a mansion right now. Yesterday, you spent all day shopping with me and working on the project. You get nothing from this. You’re selfless.”

Vansh peeked in the open bathroom door. It looked like nothing had been used and everything was exactly in its place. “It’s eight A.M.,” he said a bit impatiently. “And you’re up and ready to go to work and start something new too. Even when you’re scared. You’re being very brave.”

“But I need to. You, on the other hand . . .”