Jason

Holy crap, I really loathe Knox Pearson. There’s no other word to describe the feeling of bile that rises from my stomach when I hear the loping clip of his loafers on the marble floor outside my office.

Loathing.

Which is odd, because I’m not usually a loathing kind of guy. I’m the guy everyone at work seeks out for a laugh, or maybe a quick game of office-chair hockey-that is, I was that guy before Knox came along. Knox and his stupid floppy hair and red-tipped ears. The fucking nicks on his neck from shaving. The ridiculous flamingo socks, and the shirts that never quite stay tucked in properly. He looks like a 5th grader playing office.

And don’t even get me started on his name. I mean, effing Knox.

I loathe him.

“Hey Jason.”

Ugh. His voice makes my skin crawl. He stops at my door every morning to annoy me. I try not to give him the satisfaction, but it’s hard when he catches me before I’ve had any coffee.

“Hey, Pearson.” I can’t call him Knox, it humiliates us both. “What’s up with your ears? You look like a Rhesus monkey.” He just smiles, which pisses me off even more. Can’t he take my bait, just once?

“I’ve got extra breakfast tacos, do you want some?” He waves a greasy brown bag in front of my desk, and I avert my eyes. He has extra food every morning. He offers it to me every morning. I despise his predictability.

“No, thanks. I’m not a fan of cardiac arrest.” They’re chorizo and egg, I can smell them from across the room. They’re almost impossible to find in Chicago, and my Texas stomach growls with yearning. He knows I want them, which is why I can’t take them.

“Suit yourself. They’re still warm.”

“That taco truck downstairs is a health citation on wheels.” My voice is weak with hunger, but I persevere.

“They’re not from downstairs, they’re from Mama Juanita’s.”

Mama Juanita’s has the best Tex-Mex in the city. I hate him so fucking much.

“Mama’s has gone downhill since the son took over.” Not true, but I have to say something.

“They taste fine to me. Sure you don’t want them?” He swings the bag in front of me one more time, and I have to turn away from the temptation.

“Don’t you have a job to get to?” I speak to the floor so I don’t have to look at his dumb face or his beautiful tacos.

“I suppose I do. Talk to you later, Jase.” He’s gone with a wave, leaving nothing but a sour taste in my mouth. Calling me Jase, like we’re best buds.

I detest him.

Knox

I am so into Jason Reynolds. Everything about him, from his midnight blue eyes, to his tight butt, to his smart-ass mouth, just gets me going. He hates me, of course, which makes things a little awkward, but I can’t resist our morning talks.

“Happy Friday, Jason.” I put on my biggest, cheesiest smile and brace myself for his greeting.

“Pearson. I’d love to sit and chat, but you irritate the shit out of me.”

See? I’m growing on him.

“Any plans for the weekend?” I move for the extra chair in front of his desk, but he jumps up to stop my entrance.

“Nope. Small talk’s complete, move along.” He points to his door with an annoyed flick of the wrist. I ignore him.

“I’m going snowboarding with my sisters. I haven’t seen them since Christmas, so I’m really looking forward to it.” I bite my lip to keep from grinning at his pained expression.

“You know what I’m looking forward to? That sound you make when you shut up and leave.”

I know better than to push my luck, so I pull a box with three sausage kolaches from my messenger bag and set it on the corner of his desk. He rolls his eyes, but I know he’ll be digging in before I make it across the hall.

God, he cracks me up.