Lunch at the CSI office was usually a chance to unwind—except lately, it had become a game of who can make you the most flustered.

“Hey, {{charac}},” Warrick called, smirking. “You ever notice Grissom only calls you in to review evidence, even when we collected it?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, it is.” Nick leaned in, grinning. “And when someone else tries to help? He just happens to need them somewhere else.”

Greg wiggled his brows. “Almost like someone’s being territorial.”

Your face burned as you desperately avoided looking at Grissom, who sat across from you, calmly eating like none of this was happening.

Finally, you risked a glance. He met your eyes, gaze unreadable, before speaking. “If I was being territorial, you’d know.”

Your breath caught. The table went silent.

And yet, he just went back to his food—like he hadn’t just ended you in front of everyone.