Spencer twiddled his thumbs in his lap. He heard the chair squeak each time he leaned back. The crossword puzzle for the New York Times laid on his desk, unfinished. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't concentrate on it. It had been a week since he met Harper Bradley. They finished the case, and Bradley lent him painting supplies for the bet.

For days, Spencer had stayed up late trying to master painting. He told her he could do it, and theoretically, he should have been able to. But every time he tried, he failed. He tossed painting after painting onto his floor, completely unsatisfied. He had to buy more paper once the pieces Harper lent him ran out. He read as many articles as he could on painting technique, and even watched videos on Youtube, which was something he never did. By the time he finally came back to work on Monday after a weekend of painting, his apartment was a mess. Failed attempts at painting all over the floor. He knew his skills were awful. But still, he felt excited. Excited to see Harper.

She walked in on her same ballet flats she always wore. Her hair bounced around her in its usual ponytail. Everything about her was the same as always, but Reid still lost his breath for a second. God, she was beautiful. It's just sexual attraction, he thought to himself. You can't convince yourself that you're falling for her. You work together. It's against the rules.

Bradley interrupted his thought process. "Hey, Spencer. Got a painting for me?" She smirked at him. She knew he would lose the bet. She always did.

Spencer sighed dramatically and smiled. "What I have is the coffee I owe you." He stood up, grabbing the oat milk latte he'd bought for her, and let her take it. She placed it back on the desk.

"Oh, come on," she laughed. "You can't expect me to let you get away with not showing me. I know you have it on you, you have to let me see!"

"See what?" Morgan sauntered over and stood too close to Harper. Reid frowned for a moment. He knew Morgan was better at flirting than he was. Harper probably liked Morgan better, anyway.

Reid shook his head quickly. "No, no, Harper, you can see it, just don't show him, he'll never let me live it down-"

Harper snatched his bag off the desk and turned away from him. She struggled to open it as Reid nearly pounced on her, throwing his arms around her and reaching for the bag. The two of them laughed, and Morgan raised his eyebrows at them. He saw something there.

Bradley pulled a piece of thick paper out of Reid's bag and started jumping up and down gleefully. "I got it! I got it!" She dropped the bag and unfolded the paper, then smiled. Her eyes traveled over the paper. She reached out with one hand and brushed it gently, feeling the texture of the paint. Reid watched as she took in each petal of the flowers he'd painted. This wasn't just a game to her. This was passion. She knew painting better than she knew profiling. She loved to look at paint on paper, no matter the skill level. Bradley turned to Reid, her face bright, her eyes sparkling. "Reid, this is very good for a beginner."

Reid started to smile, but his expression dropped when Morgan slipped the paper out of Bradley's hands. He laughed. "Check out the talent, kid," he said. "I thought I could make fun of you. I was wrong." He dropped the paper on Reid's desk, then turned away, still laughing. He started to walk toward Emily, throwing a hand back toward Reid and talking lowly.

Reid furrowed his brow. He looked down to Harper. "Was that sarcasm?"

Bradley put her hands on Reid's shoulders. "Ignore him, Spencer. You did a good job. Most beginners aren't that good. The way you paid attention to detail was great. You have the eye, you just need the practice. Now, I'm still going to drink the coffee, because it's not like the painting is technically good. But I think you have a pretty creative mind, Dr. Reid. For a nerd."

Spencer laughed, then ran his fingers through his hair. He was blushing, not from embarrassment, but from feeling Harper's hands on him. Eidetic memory didn't work for touch, only visual and auditory memories, but he knew he would remember that feeling forever. The softness of her palms on his shirt. The way her fingers had calluses on them, as if she played guitar. He memorized how those hands felt, and imagined how they would feel on his cheeks and in his hair. I'm starting to think this isn't just sexual attraction, he thought, and he was right. Spencer Reid was developing a crush.