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disrupted
    •Specialized fields of interest or hobbies.
     
    Hours later, Lane squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear some of the burning as he scrubbed the back of his neck and groaned. He shut off his laptop and set it on the bedside table. Lane stretched and yawned as he willed his mind to set aside it’s preoccupation with the gorgeous riddle sleeping across the hall. Lane flopped onto a pillow and hugged it as he tried not to picture Aiden stretched out on the bed, eyeing him like a drowsy tiger. A dangerously sexy tiger. What? That’s the lamest thought you’ve ever had. Lane groaned as he pushed his face into the pillow.
    While he’d learned a lot about Asperger’s, Lane didn’t have a clearer understanding of Aiden. From what Lane read, there was a wide range of functionality among people with Asperger’s. Aiden seemed like he was on the very high functioning end but Lane still didn’t have enough of a grasp of Aiden’s emotional maturity. Aiden was just so inconsistent. One moment, he was childlike and irrational. Then, Aiden flirted and teased until Lane was a stuttering idiot. He spoke like a professor one minute, then lounged on the bed like a goddamned porn star the next.
    Lane told himself that if he could get through the next day, Sunday, he’d only be alone with Aiden in the evenings during the week. The trial was going well and if Aiden was as good as Cabbot was expecting, the trial should be over by the end of the week. Just keep it in your pants for a day. And a few evenings. You can look all you want, just don’t get carried away. Looking never hurt. You’ve got this. Lane wished he believed himself.

Chapter 4
     
    Lane sipped his coffee as he waited to flip the last batch of pancakes. The doorbell rang and he instinctively looked up toward Aiden’s room. Lane wanted Aiden to sleep in after his remark about how long it had been since he’d slept in a bed. Aiden slept with the door open and Lane peeked in before he went downstairs. Aiden was sprawled out peacefully and he looked so boyish and beautiful, Lane hated the idea of anything disturbing that. He didn’t know who would be at his door at 8:00 on a Sunday morning but they better have a damn good reason. Lane pulled the door open and didn’t bother to stifle his glare.
    “Fuck. What do you want, Clark?” Lane gave him a hard, expectant stare.
    Clark stared back and waited. Lane sighed and stepped aside, letting Clark pass. Lane shut the door and watched as Clark’s eyes scanned. He’d only been to Lane’s house once before but Lane knew Clark wasn’t admiring the architecture. Lane pushed past Clark and went back to the kitchen before the pancakes burned. He pulled them off and added them to the pile and ignored Clark as he laid strips of bacon in the pan.
    “Chief called last night and said that Sharp is staying here.” Clark said as he rested his hands on the counter and leaned. Lane shrugged as he turned to the fridge and pulled out a carafe of orange juice. He set it on the counter and took out two glasses. He could feel Clark’s irritation stretching and clenched his jaw to keep from smiling. “I swear, I didn’t know, Lane.” He said. Lane snorted as he took out a pair of tongs and prodded the bacon.
    “And I can trust you about as far as I can throw you.” Lane mumbled. He could feel Clark’s eyes sweeping over his body. Lane came down in a pair of pajama pants and a robe and had removed his robe before he started cooking.
    “Did you fuck him?” It came out as an accusatory growl and Lane’s lip curled instinctively in response.
    “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. We were never exclusive, were we?” Lane cast him a pointed look and raised a brow. Clark straightened and crossed his arms over his chest.
    “Is this because Shelly’s pregnant again? Is that why you backed off?” Clark asked as his eyes slid hungrily down Lane’s chest and stomach. Lane’s stomach twisted in response. Had