Jason

It’s Monday morning, and I’m in no mood for Knox’s fuckery.

He’s here with take-out coffee (God, I really need a coffee), and for a split second I’m back in college, waiting in the lobby of Parrish Hall for that dark mop of hair to round the corner and that grin to shoot straight through my solar plexus.

“Please leave, dumbass, you’re contagious.”

“Seriously?” The grin is still there, but now it induces only rage within me.

“Yes, I’m just recovering from a wicked case of hate-induced fever. I caught it from you, Patient Zero. You need to leave before you re-infect me.”

“No worries, I’ve had my shots. Wanna coffee?”

“No, and stop bringing me shit. I’ve been feeding myself for years.” I might be imagining it, but the coffee seems to be surrounded by a soft halo of light. I avert my eyes and remain steadfast in my resistance.

“You can still hate me and accept the coffee.” He’s got me there, so I grab the cup from his hand, taking satisfaction when some of the hot liquid spills over onto the cuff of his sleeve.

“You’re welcome,” he mutters, shaking his dripping wrist over the trash can behind my desk. I’m too busy mainlining caffeine to do more than smirk. After a slightly awkward stare-off, he breaks the tense silence in the room.

“Listen, I need to talk to you about the Hilton account.” I look up in surprise, since I wasn’t aware I had anything to do with the Hilton account. “I’d like for you to help Jesse with the print campaign.”

“Can’t,” I say, taking a seat behind my cluttered desk. “I’m busy with Millennial Financial.” I notice his gaze shift to the wall behind me, and immediately feel my shoulders tense.

“Yeah, about Millennial,” he says, then stops at my hard gaze. “What?”

“If you’re thinking about reassigning me, I’d suggest you reconsider.” I work to keep the anger out of my voice and am pleased to hear I’ve succeeded. For the most part.

“Jase-”

“Jason,” I snap. So much for keeping the anger at bay.

“Jason,” he mimics. “Millennial runs itself. Rajiv can handle it on his own. Jesse’s floundering with the demands of Hilton.”

“That sounds like a Jesse problem.” It’s a shitty thing to say. It’s true that Jess is swamped, and she’s one of my best friends at the firm. Truth be told, it’d be fun to work together, but I can’t let Pearson know that.

“Actually, it’s a Halsey Media problem, and it’s my job to solve it.”

“Millennial’s the most high-profile account I’ve ever had.” And I’m doing a damn fine job, thanks very much.

“What, Hilton isn’t high-profile enough for you?”

I choke back a derisive laugh. Is he being deliberately obtuse?

“I’d be assisting on Hilton. I’m running Millennial.”

Knox rolls his eyes. God, he’s obnoxious. “Are you really that hung up on titles?”

“Not everyone rolls out of bed and becomes a creative director. The rest of us are still trying to build our resumes.” Motherfucker.

I left that last part out, right? Yep, I’m good.

Knox sighs as he takes a seat across from my desk. “Look, I know we’ve been avoiding this, but maybe we need to have a talk.”

“About what?” I have absolutely no desire to talk, but if he wants to, I’m going to make it as awkward as I can.

“Our…history.” Man, he’s squirming, and I’m loving it.

“Our history? Are you talking about when we fucked in college?” He visibly recoils, and I suddenly feel like shit. He may be an asshole, but that was out of line.

“Okay, I guess talking’s out of the question.” He stands to leave, and I hold up my hands in a “time out” sign.

“Wait, Pearson…I’m sorry.” His gaze is unblinking, and I’m still not sure if he’s leaving or not. “Can we please just hold off on the Hilton thing? I’ll help Jess on the side, but don’t make me give up Millennial. Not yet.”

He breaks into a crooked smile, the one that used to make my heart race with wanting. Thank God I don’t even notice it anymore.

“Fine. But I need a favor in return.”

“What?” Even I’m surprised at the suspicion in my tone.

“Can you pretend to respect me just a little bit, at least when other people are around? It’s hard enough to start a new job without the most popular guy in the office shitting on me every chance he gets.”

“I’m the most popular guy in the office?” I know I am.

“You know you are.” He’s feeding my ego, but I’m good with that. It’s the least he can do.

“I’ll tell you what-I’ll respect your business decisions, but I won’t take back the rumor I started about your missing testicle.” His huff of laughter pleases me, but there’s only so much peacemaking I can take in one day. “And since no one’s around, let me ask you to leave, because you’re seriously trying my patience right now.”

“You’re asking me to leave.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Respectfully.”

“Uh huh.” He shakes his head, salutes me with a tip of his coffee cup, and leaves without a word.

Finally.