Page 14 of Mostly Loathing You

If we’re being honest, I’m surprised I’ve made it this long.

He feigns surprise as I glare down at him, his fingertips tapping against his chin in a thinking pose. “I don’t know, Hannah…for you to do yourjob?”

Jackson clears his throat, pulling my attention away from Liam’s irritatingly smug face. As my eyes meet his, he is shaking his head, presumably telling me to stand down. Normally, I wouldn’t entertain the idea, but this isn’t summer at the beach house or winter in Vail. He’s my boss…and the reminder leaves a sour taste on my tongue.

Gritting my teeth, I turn back to Liam. “I’m sorry. What do you need?”

His grin of triumph has me fighting every instinct in my body to flip the contents of his desk onto the ground.

“I want you to work on compiling those notes in here. Jackson is heading out—you can work at his desk.” Liam waves his hand in Jackson’s direction as he looks back down at the document in front of him.

Dude,why?

I clear my throat, turning to Jackson in a silent plea. He just shrugs.

Always Mr. Helpful.

“Of course.” I grit my teeth, my jaw locking in place. Why Liam insists on micromanaging me, I will never know. I am not incompetent like he paints me to be. I’m capable of going through notes on my fucking own, thanks.

I make my way out to my desk to grab my laptop. The heated flush in my cheeks creeps down my neck, leaving me feeling like this office is scorching.

“Hannah.” Jackson’s calm voice does little to quell my anxiety.

“What’s up?” I try to sound unaffected.

Turning to make my way back into their office, my eyes meet Jackson’s, an expression of sympathy painted across his face.

“Don’t let him get to you.”

“Easier said than done.” I swallow, feeling my heart rate finally starting to settle. “He just—he does it on purpose. He’s trying to get under my skin.”

“Probably,” Jackson sighs, “but knowing that, don’t let him win, okay?”

“Why aren’t you sticking around tonight? I mean, why is Liam and not you?”

“It’s his client, but also…I have plans with Gen. We’re tasting wedding cake.”

Of course,Gen.

It’s not to say I don’t like Gen. I adore her; we’ve been friends forever. However, it stings every time I’m reminded that Jackson knows her far better than I do anymore.

When we were little, Gen and I were inseparable. She was at our house every day for years and, while I’m not naive enough to say it was 100% about me, I miss it.

Also, my parents doting on her constantly is enraging.

“Well, have fun with your precious Genevieve. If there’s blood on your envelope opener tomorrow, mind your business.”

I walk away before he can reprimand me.

While Jackson’s desk chair is far more comfortable than my own, I must admit the view leaves something to be desired. The incessant clicking of Liam’s pen has my irritation growing higher, the semblance of calm I’m attempting to hold onto dying with every passing second.

“Why do you insist on being a dick?” The words tumble out before I can shove them back in.

Liam’s brows shoot up to his hairline, his expression hardening for a split moment. He moves his jaw from side to side, almost as if I’ve hit him and he’s calculating his retort.

“Trust me, princess, you haven’t seen me be a dick. I will ride you so hard that you fall asleep standing up, so don’t test me.” He just looks down at his paper and continues the incessant clicking as if he didn’t just say that.

I’m slack-jawed at his words.

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