By the third day of working together, Lily was convinced Ethan existed purely to test her patience.
He showed up early, coffee already in hand, sleeves rolled up like he was settling in for a performance. She refused to acknowledge how effortlessly confident he looked.
"You're late," he said without looking up from his screen.
She checked the time. "I'm exactly on time."
He hummed. "We disagree again. Shocking."
Lily dropped her bag on the desk beside him. "If you're going to keep commenting on my existence, at least make it useful."
That earned her a glance. A slow one. The kind that made her skin prickle.
"Relax," Ethan said. "I'm just saying—we have a deadline, and management is already breathing down our necks."
"As if I don't know that," she snapped. "I care about this project just as much as you do."
Something flickered in his eyes at that. Respect, maybe. Or annoyance. She couldn't tell.
They worked for hours, the room filled with the steady sound of typing and the occasional sharp exchange. Lily hated how easily they fell into a rhythm—how his strengths filled the gaps in her approach, how her attention to detail sharpened his ideas.
It felt too… balanced.
During a short break, Ethan leaned back and stretched. "You always this intense?"
She didn't look up. "Only when people assume I'm not capable."
He studied her then, really studied her. "You don't like being underestimated."
Her fingers paused. "No. I don't."
Neither spoke for a moment.
Then Ethan said quietly, "Good."
That single word lingered longer than it should have.
Later, when a mistake in the data nearly derailed their progress, voices rose, tension snapped, and frustration spilled out.
"You didn't double-check this," Lily said.
"You didn't flag it," Ethan shot back.
They stared at each other, breathing hard, neither willing to back down.
Finally, Lily turned away first. "Let's fix it and move on."
Ethan watched her for a second before nodding. "Yeah. Fine."
As the office lights dimmed and the day dragged to a close, Lily packed her things, exhausted but oddly alert.
This wasn't just a project anymore.
It was a battle of wills.
And somehow, without meaning to, Ethan had become the only person in the room who could keep up with her.
She didn't like that.
Not one bit.