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Summary
I jest around with my guy friends at work all the time—fake kisses, dramatic declarations, “we don’t need women, we’ve got each other” kind of stuff. It’s our thing. It’s funny. It’s harmless.
Until the new guy—quiet, unreadable, stupidly hot—decides to take the joke seriously.
One second, I’m leaning in like always, all in good fun. The next? His mouth is on mine, his hands are definitely not joking, and I’m waking up in bed after a night that was very real, very intense, and very… confusing.