You sighed, pushing a file aside and rubbing your eyes. “If I read one more sentence about blood spatter analysis, I’m going to lose it.”

Spencer chuckled softly from across the table. “Technically, if you’re experiencing cognitive fatigue, it’s because your prefrontal cortex is—”

“Spencer,” you interrupted with a smile, leaning your chin on your hand. “If you finish that sentence, I’m throwing a pencil at you.”

He smiled, setting his own file down. “You always threaten violence when you’re tired.”

“And you always give a lecture when you’re flirting.”

Spencer blinked, color rising in his cheeks. “I—I wasn’t flirting.”

You tilted your head. “Weren’t you?”

There was a beat of silence. Then he stood, walked over to you, and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well… maybe I was. Is that okay?”