Maybe

Chapter 38 Bad luck

The next morning, I was rushing like my life depended on it. No breakfast, no coffee—just me scrambling to make up for lost time because, once again, I was already late. As I yanked my door open, I froze.

Because, of course, Ethan had to open his door at the exact same time.

We stood there, face to face, for a beat too long. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but I wasn't about to waste another second of my precious morning. Without a word, I locked my door and dashed down the hall toward the elevator.

The last thing I wanted was to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary. I pressed the elevator button repeatedly like it would make it come faster. To my relief, the doors slid open almost immediately, and I stepped in, jabbing the "close door" button like my life depended on it.

But just when the doors were about to seal me in peace, a foot slid between them. My heart sank as the elevator doors reopened, and there he was, stepping inside with his usual calm, irritating confidence.

I looked anywhere but at him, staring intently at the elevator panel as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him standing there, his expression mildly annoyed, like he knew exactly what I was doing.

"You were really trying to close it on me, weren't you?" he asked, his tone flat but with a hint of amusement.

I didn't reply, keeping my focus locked on the glowing floor numbers. Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him, I chanted in my head.

He said after a pause, his tone dry, "slamming the elevator door in someone's face isn't exactly neighborly behavior."

I scoffed, refusing to meet his gaze. "I wasn't slamming it. You were just late."

He raised an eyebrow. "Late? I was right there."

"And yet, you still almost missed it," I muttered, staring intently at the elevator buttons.

He sighed dramatically. "I get it. You don't like sharing elevators. But this is a shared building, you know? Not your private mansion."

I turned my head to glare at him. "I wasn't trying to keep you out. I just... didn't see you."

He nodded, "Uh-huh. Sure."

The way he looked at me, like he knew I was lying, made my skin crawl. Before I'd open my mouth the elevator came to a gentle stop on the next floor, the doors slid open to reveal another passenger. My smirk grew the moment I saw him—it was him. The guy who had crashed into my car two days ago. The same guy who'd argued with me like it was somehow my fault his bumper couldn't handle parking.

He looked up, recognized me, and visibly hesitated before stepping inside. His shoulders were stiff, and his eyes darted nervously between Ethan and me. He looked like a guilty kid who had just been caught sneaking cookies from the jar.

"Morning, Sir" I said, a little too sweetly, leaning against the elevator wall with a smug smile. "How's your day going?"

The man gave me a forced, tight-lipped smile. "It was going fine... until I saw you."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, glancing between us. I could see the gears turning in his head, but I wasn't about to explain anything.

"Oh, come on," I said, feigning offense. "Is that any way to greet me? We are work partners."

The guy stiffened, his grip tightening on the strap of his bag. "work partners? I know exactly we are. A rich tormentor and a poor sufferer"

"It sounds even better," I interrupted, my smile sharp. "i'd like to kive up to that name."