I decided to continue the story between Stephanie and Mason. It’s a tale of two coworkers loving to hate each other and hating it if/when they find each other liking one another. You can find the first part here: Sharp Tongues.
These past weeks have been more than hectic. I’ve been coming to work very early and leaving late. I keep telling myself I just need to make it through this project and then it’ll slow down and I’ll finally be able to take a deep breath. But after accomplishing something, two new things pop it. I can’t think about it because if I do I might get lost in worrying and never get out; I have to focus on one thing at a time and hope for the best. I just hope the best comes sooner rather than later.
I spot Mason walking a few feet in front of me and immediately my legs start moving slower. He’s early also. I’ve been avoiding him religiously and so I haven’t spoken to him since the kiss. I’m actually spending too much time thinking about avoiding him. And any thought about him. It annoys the hell out of me.
“Good morning, Stephanie.” The sound of his voice makes me jump. “I could recognize that stomping a mile away,” he adds laughing.
“Why don’t you try that distance?” He stops and turns, waiting for me to catch up. I roll my eyes. What a lousy start of the day.
Mason’s eyes scan my face. “You look like shit.”
“And you’re full of it.” I fake-smirk, annoyed and more than eager to get away.
I start walking as fast as my skirt and heels let me. The elevator starts getting full and I slide in at the last minute, the door closing behind me.
“Take the stairs, burn some of the bullshit, Mason.” I smile, pleased with myself. I actually feel more awake; this little dialogue filled me with energy somehow. Not that I’d admit it out loud.
The elevator stops and before I step out, I inhale and exhale deeply to steady myself. I head for my office to drop my things and grab a cup of coffee in the kitchen area.
I look up as Mason opens the door. “Here, I brought you some coffee.”
A few moments pass when nothing is said and my eyes keep moving between the mug in his hands and face.
“Someone really needs a dose of caffeine,” he says, chuckling.
My eyebrow decides to join the confusion on my face. “I can get my own coffee.”
“Will you take the goddamn coffee? I didn’t poison it.” He sets the mug on my desk. “See that’s your problem. You never let anyone do anything for you, always ready to find that secret agenda.”
“That’s one of my problems.” Him not looking at me like he wants to rip my head off is another problem. Me not wanting to throw that coffee into his face is another one. A fucking huge one.
“Great, as long as you let me be a part of your life.” He flashes me his annoying, I-know-it-all smirk. Mason turns and leaves my office.
I sniff the coffee and reluctantly take a sip. How the hell does he know how I take my coffee?
I sit down and stare at the door. “I don’t hate him anymore.” How did that happen?
“Fuck me,” I continue the conversation with myself, sipping my coffee. “I need something stronger.”