“I’ll fix it there.”

“Let me see how you look with a tie. Here, I’ll take pictures.”

“What the hell for?” he asked quizzically.

“I dunno…to commemorate this momentous day?”

He rolled his eyes. “For the social media I don’t use?”

“Or for yourself? Memories for later?”

He shook his head. “They have a professional photographer. One of the reasons I have to get there so early.”

“What kind of knot are you doing? Are you all doing the same?”

“Um. Basic knot?”

“Basic?” I crossed my arms, visually studying the single twist in the tie at his shoulder. “Do you know how to tie a tie?”

He scoffed.

“Well? Mr. I-Can-Do-Everything. Let me see your technique.”

“No.” He walked around the couch, and I went around the counter, blocking his path to the door. He heaved out an exasperated breath. “Don’t start.”

“I’m fascinated with ties. Show me.”

“I’m going to be late.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you pinned me in bed.”

He groaned like he wanted to relive this morning, and my legs went weak. No! He didn’t have time for this.

“You still have about half an hour before you have to meet with the others.” I took the jacket and tossed it onto the back of the couch.

He dropped his head to the side. “Bane.”

“Sunshine.” I deadpanned.

“You’re starting, and I’m pretty sure I asked you not to start with me.”

“You didn’t ask at all, and I don’t take orders.”

Sunny raised his chin so that he was looking down at me. Boy, he sure seemed an entire foot taller when he did that, and oh so attractive. “I don’t have anything to prove.”

“That’s right. The basic skills of tying a basic tie don’t prove a thing.”

I knew him well enough to know that he didn’t like backing down. When it came to me, he definitely didn’t like me getting the last word.

Sunny fumbled with his tie, not even adjusting the twist on the shoulder, much less adjusting the ends correctly. I snickered when he just about slapped himself with one tail. His face flushed, his jaw tight, but not once did he say anything, much less ask for help.

As amusing as it was to watch him struggle with basic tie skills, I couldn’t take much more. It was like watching a puppy trying to get up that very first step after learning how to walk.

“Just going to stand there laughing?” he grumbled. Not exactly a request for help.

I finally gave in to pity, took hold of the solid blue tie, and helped him. Sunny grunted but relented, his chin high, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if looking at me would set him on fire in a painful death. His entire body stilled as I dramatically swept one end of the tie over the other, the fabric almost slapping his face. He winced but didn’t pull back.

I stifled a giggle. “Oops.”

“Sure you know how to tie?” he muttered.

“Yes.” I tugged, jerking him forward.

“Funny…”

He still wouldn’t look at me, so he couldn’t see the stupid smile on my face or how much I was enjoying toying with him before taking this seriously. The tie had to be even, the lines of the knot just right, the length of each tail, and the tightness so it wouldn’t look bunched or off-kilter or sloppy in any way.

“How do you not know how to tie?” I asked.

“Do I look like a guy who wears ties?”

“Not even for your job interviews?”

“For devs? No. At best, a button-down shirt and slacks, maybe a jacket. Never a tie. Where’d you, uh, learn how to do this?”

“Oh, you know. Just tying ties for guys all over the place. I’m pretty easy that way.”

He grunted. “I honestly wanted to know, but since you brought it up—what happened to all your benefits?”

“I was joking. You think I have multiple lovers? Wait. Did you think I was serious? Were you jealous?”

“The idea of another guy all over you?” he grunted, as if that was an answer.

“So you were jealous?”

“I do not like the idea of someone else getting to touch you.”

I bit down on my smile.

He peered down at my skills and asked, “YouTube?”

I sighed, recalling fond memories as a kid who thought she was a huge help to her hopeful Superman of a father. I focused on the tie, adjusting it in the smallest ways, as I said, “My dad went through a lot of interviews when we first moved to the States. All that racism and stereotyping and discrimination, et cetera, set him back. His English wasn’t perfect, but he had a degree in civil engineering and a strong work history, but from India. Would never get the job. He’d take smaller gigs, whatever he could get, multiple jobs at once. Janitor, burger flipper, county clerk. But he kept applying and thought he should start wearing a suit for interviews. He had trouble tying. So I learned how to tie and tied all his ties, sometimes pre-tied so he could slip them on, adjust, and go.”

There was a pause before Sunny asked, “And…”

“And what?” I fiddled with the ends, but the tie was just right.

“Did he get the job he wanted?”