"A good idea," I repeat skeptically. Upon hearing the clear doubt in my voice, Jack pins me with a hard stare. "Okay, let's hear this genius idea of yours." 

"We should go on routinely dates," Jack suggests, and I stare at him. 

"That is a horrible idea," I say immediately. "I can already see it. On every date, we get on each other's nerves, and by the time it's the wedding, we've already clawed each other's eyes out." 

"Do I seem like I would claw your eyes out?" Jack asks impatiently. 

I ponder for a second. 

"No, but you would certainly poison my coffee and bring my dead body to Gabriel who will dump me into a random forest." 

Jack does not deny my statement. Still, he continues on. "Think about it. If we're forced to spend time together, we'll end up being closer." 

I grimace. I'd rather not spend the majority of my week going on dates with Jack, and that thought is clearly displayed on my face. 

He is annoyed. "There are so much worse things than going on dates than me." 

"Like what?" 

"Humiliating yourself in front of your co-workers, under the guise that you would get asked out," Jack drawls, folding one finger. "Being co-workers with your crush's crush. Cursing, killing, and burying your unrequited love." 

Heat burns across my cheeks and I feel humiliation sweep through me. "You are such an asshole," I enunciate. "Honestly, there are things worse than going on dates with you, Jack. However, I don't want to go on dates with you, you asshole." 

I storm away from him, brimming with fury. Somehow, I'm able to find my car and blindly drive to my apartment, though I'm practically seething. I jam my key into the keyhole and when it doesn't open upon first attempt, I let out a frustrated scream. 

My neighbor shoots me a terrified look, before darting into their apartment. They already think I'm slightly unhinged, but today I've really done it. They'll possibly avoid me forever, which is fine by me. Still, I'd rather keep the gossip at bay. 

I swing open my apartment door and my lonely room greets me. I release a sad sigh and flop onto my bed. My phone pings and I instantly snatch it up like a vulture. The text reads as follows: Sorry. 

Jack's apology is so crappy, I snort. I text back, You're so bad at apologizing. Do better. 

He replies instantly. Alright. Then, I'm sorry. 

You really just added an "I'm" in the beginning, I type. That's so much better. By the way, can we break up the second the wedding is over? Like, the moment we step out of the wedding, we break up? 

I wait for Jack's response with bated breath. He responds after a few seconds: My thoughts exactly. 

I feel more relieved and with the reassuring thought that Jack and I are on the same page, I drift away into sleep. In my dreams, I'm in someone's apartment. 

A man is standing in the kitchen, chopping some bell peppers. My mouth waters, as I spot the pot of soup full of potato, meat, and carrots. I'm seated around the dining table, which is perfectly set for two people. 

I rise from my seat and cautiously move towards the mysterious man. He hasn't spoken at all, but for some reason, my heart beats faster than usual. "Hello?" I say meekly. 

"You sound scared," the man gently chides, still preoccupied with chopping the bell peppers. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," I say quickly. "Where are we?" 

"Our apartment, of course." The man appears oblivious to my distress and continues on. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem quite forgetful tonight." 

I don't know what to say, especially when the man wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Babe, you're not sick, are you?" the man asks, slightly concerned now. "Do you have a fever?" 

Babe? 

I scoff. What a ridiculous dream. The last thing I want in my life is a boyfriend, especially since my previous crush did not end well. 

The man sets down the knife and presses a cool hand onto my forehead. "No fever," he confirms. "Though you're looking awfully pale." 

"I'm fine," I say faintly. "I'm just a bit disoriented." 

He gently guides me to the table and when I'm seated, I glance up. Staring at me with the most concerned eyes is Jack and I'm instantly horrified. "Babe, get some rest," Jack says, a note of worry in his voice. 

Then he leans down and kisses me on the mouth. 

I wake up slightly sweaty and with my sheets all tangled up. The dream comes back in a flash and I am filled with horror. My hands instantly travel up to my lips, where Jack kissed. I curse softly, once. Then loudly, the F-word this time. 

What have I done? 

I try to sleep, though my mind keeps wandering to the dream with Jack. Throughout the night, I toss and turn, though the image of Jack kissing me does not disappear. By the time the sun rises, I look like a zombie. 

Dark circles settle under my eyes and my skin looks deathly pale. I look like a combination of tiredness and wanting to murder someone, though both are not entirely untrue. Like a zombie, I'm somehow shuffling out of my apartment, into the car, and into my workplace. 

I get into the elevator and close my eyes, exhaling softly. Jack kissing me flashes through in my head and this time, my mind takes it a step further. Jack kissing me and running his fingers through my hair, tilting his head and moving me closer until our bodies press together— 

The elevator door opens with a ding and my eyes fly open. I am both ashamed and disgusted by myself. I trudge to my desk and... 

There he is. 

Jack leans back into his chair and my heart thumps slowly, as though it is in slow mode. His whiskey-brown eyes shift towards me and then everything in me explodes. 

My heartbeat is quickening, blood rushing through my head. A myriad of emotions explode through me: panic, humiliation, and something else. 

"Isla," Jack says, and I'm mesmerized by his lips for a second. "Why aren't you sitting down?" 

He frowns at me, irritated. That's when I realize the Jack from my dream is a complete fantasy, something that will never happen, ever. "I am." My voice sounds hoarse. I cough and try again. "I will." 

Jack eyes me strangely. "No scathing comment today?" 

I'm too exhausted for that, so I merely shake my head. "Alright," Jack says hesitantly, before turning to his computer. Then he glances. For a split second, I see the Jack from my dream, concerned. Then it disappears. "You look awful, Isla. Maybe you should take a break from work today." 

"I'm fine," I lie. "I just couldn't sleep well." 

Something strange passes through Jack's face. "And why is that?" he asks. 

Because I dreamt of you kissing me, I think. Even though that will never happen, it's embarrassing for me to face you. I don't voice any of these thoughts out loud. 

"Just... other things," I say vaguely. 

I turn to my computer without further explanation. While I listlessly do work, my mind races ahead. I've had plenty of dreams that include Jack, though most of them are Jack being humiliated at work. This is the first time I've had a dream so intimate and it has shaken me to the core. 

When it comes time for our lunch break, I instantly jump out of my seat. "Isla, wait," I hear Jack call, but I ignore him and speed-walk to the cafeteria. 

After getting my food, I'm halfway to the outside lunch seating, when I hear a familiar voice calling for me once more. "Isla," Jack barks and I jump. I continue speed-walking. "I know you can hear me. Isla." 

Finally, I stop. I don't look at him when he approaches me. "You're ignoring me, aren't you?" sighs Jack. "I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have brought him up." 

"That's okay," I mumble. I can't look him in the eye. If I do, I'll completely lose it. 

"Isla, are you that upset? You're not even looking at me. You're looking at my shoes." When I don't respond, Jack presses something cool onto my forehead. My head jerks up and I accidentally look up. Jack smirks. "There you are." 

He passes me a cool iced matcha drink, with whipped cream on the top. "Here," says Jack. "I'm sorry about last night." 

I stare at him, stunned. "Is this for me?" 

"Who else?" Jack snorts. "Do I look like I like drinking matcha drinks with whipped cream?" 

When I start to stammer out words, Jack stops me. "If you're not going to have it, I'll give it to Roxie," he tells me. "I'm sure Roxie would like drinking this kind of stuff." 

"No," I force out. "I'll take it." 

Jack smiles, triumphant. Then his smile fades slightly. "Are you actually okay, though? You're looking a bit... red." 

***

author's note:

hi ya'll we're on chapter ten already thank you so so much for sticking with me for this story <3 love you all