Being like that, on Ford’s sofa, alone, felt strangely intimate with the adrenaline fading. Andrew wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands. Usually, they’d be pawing at Ford’s clothes, but that didn’t seem right tonight.
When Ford turned his head, and their eyes locked, Andrew wanted to say…something, but he had no idea what. Comfort. Encouragement. A request for permission to breach the scant inches between their hands and lace their fingers together…
But that would be intimate too. He wanted intimate, but he wasn’t sure Ford agreed.
“Something else, Andrew?” Ford asked, their gazes drifting between each other’s eyes and their lips.
“No. Just stay safe.” He hefted onto his feet before he kissed Ford and asked to stay. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
* * * *
Andrew met up with Steven back at the scene of the crime and explained everything they’d discovered—about Jericho, the classifieds, and their suspicions about the identity of the thief.