A note from @AvaViolet

Hey Everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who participated in the first round, I loved reading all the entries! If you didn't win this time, don't worry, there are still more opportunities to continue the story and get a $100 gift card to Tim Hortons! Congratulations to @AveryKeelan for her winning part. 

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Part 2: Written by AveryKeelan

Isaac winces, dropping his chin to examine the massive wet spot covering the middle of his grey fitted T-shirt.

"Oh my god." My hand flies up to cover my mouth. "I am so sorry."

We both reach for the napkin dispenser at the same time, and our fingers brush. We both immediately recoil in horror at the physical contact.

He draws in a breath like he's channeling his patience and reaches for the dispenser again, pulling out a wad of brown napkins. With a frown, he glances down again and proceeds to blot his damp shirt, but it's futile. He's going to walk around smelling like a delicious caffeine fix until he changes his clothes.

"For the record," he says, "it's good practice to watch where you're going. Highly recommended, really."

Defensiveness bubbles up within me. I already apologized. What is his problem?

"I was in a hurry," I tell him.

"Apparently. "His eyebrows lift. "Feeling a little stressed about our upcoming bake-off?"

"No. Of course not." Heat laces my cheeks and I clutch the half-empty cappuccino in my hand, taking a sip to hide my face.

Isaac's eyes trace my face for a beat. He's not buying it one bit. His voice drops. "Feeling a bit of baker's block, are we, Aria?"

How did he know? Am I that obvious? I can't let him know he's gotten inside my head.

"Not in the slightest." I jut my chin, meeting his gaze evenly. "You aren't ready for what I have in store."

He smirks, stepping past me to order. "I guess we'll see about that later."

Problem is, I'm not ready either.

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Part 3: Written by AvaViolet

I wait for Isaac to leave before ordering another handcrafted cappuccino. Because of him, I'm no closer to knowing what I'll be baking than I was before, but I know I need to get started. At least I'm getting a delicious caffeine fix to help get me through it.

I check my watch as I rush across the street back to my apartment. 7 more hours. Only 7 hours until my cake has to be sitting in front of the judges, and I still need to mix it, bake it, decorate it, and transport it there.

As I wait for the elevator to bring me to my floor, I sip on my cappuccino, hoping that the flavours would inspire me like before. Tim Hortons always comes through for me, and it did, at least until Isaac ruined the moment.

The elevator goes painstakingly slow, but when it finally opens, I wish it didn't. Isaac is standing in the landing, getting off the second elevator.

I falter when I see him, but recover smooth enough. "Isaac," I say cordially, even though I'm still frazzled from our earlier meeting.

"Aria," he greets.

We both try to step into the hallway, but it's not big enough with our coats and drinks, so we bump shoulders. I try again, but so does he. It ends up being a mini wrestling match as we both try to get into the hallway first. I could be an adult and let him go first, but that stubborn voice in my head is yelling at me, telling me this signifies more than just who can walk in front of who.

He moves to readjust, and I take my chance, slipping in front of him. "Ha! First," I exclaim, unable to stop myself.

He rolls his eyes as he follows me down the hall. "It must be such a new feeling for you since it happens so rarely."

He's got me there, but I keep my resolve. "It'll happen again in exactly 7 hours once the judges taste my cake."

"Uh-huh," he says, the disbelief in his voice making me clench my Tims cappuccino harder. "I'm all iced and ready. Are you?"

I can't let him know I haven't started yet. If I do, he'll get in my head, just like he did with that brief interaction earlier, and I'll be thinking about it the entire time I'm baking. I need to be focused; I need to be confident.

"It's perfect," I vaguely lie as we stop in front of our doors, his right beside mine.

He raises an eyebrow as he pulls out his key. "Well, like I said at Tim Hortons, we'll see about that in 7 hours."

He disappears behind his door and I have to shove down the immature urge to kick it. 7 hours sounds like a lot, but it's not, and I need to get started now. I can't waste any more precious seconds. I can't afford to.

I reach into my jacket pocket to grab my key, but my hand only grasps the spare mittens I keep in there.

Oh no.

I set my Tims cappuccino on the floor and empty out all my pockets.

I don't have my key! This is bad. This is really bad. I need to get in there to start baking, I can't afford to be locked out of my apartment.

"Problem?" A voice behind me asks.

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Now, it's your turn! Submit the next part of the story below in the comments section of this chapter. Make sure you tag it with #TimsEspressYourself to enter. Entries must include all Submission Requirements. Deadline to enter the next part is December 5 at 11:59 PM EST.

The winner's part, along with my continuation, will go live on December 7th!