Ever since you joined the company, there was one person who managed to crawl under your skin like no one else: Rex.

He was smart, charming, and absolutely infuriating. Always teasing you. Always finding ways to get a reaction—especially during meetings. It didn’t matter how serious the topic was, Rex would always find a way to lean over, whisper a snarky comment, or flash that smug grin that made your blood boil.

Today was no different.

During the quarterly briefing, you tried to focus on the numbers on the screen, but Rex, sitting beside you, leaned in and murmured, “Try not to look too tense. It’s just numbers. Or are they too big for you?”

You shot him a glare. He just winked.

By the time the meeting ended, you were fuming. Everyone filtered out of the room, but you stayed behind, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you turned to him.

“I hate you.”

He looked amused, taking a slow step closer. “Yeah?” His voice dropped just slightly, laced with that maddening smirk. “Turns me on.”

You blinked, heat creeping to your face. “Umm—”

“Love it,” he added with a quiet laugh, hands casually slipping into his pockets.

You pouted, crossing your arms tighter. “You’re so annoying.”

“I know,” he said, tilting his head. “And I know you love it.”