Chapter 17: the Profanity rule
Mariano Penthouse — Living Area
New York City
(Jay-jay's POV)
For the first time in days…
No meetings.
No boardrooms.
No executives watching my every move.
Just silence.
Well—
Peaceful silence.
I sat cross-legged on the couch, wearing an oversized hoodie, scrolling through my phone.
Weekend. Finally.
Behind me, I could hear movement in the kitchen.
Keifer Watson.
He had somehow decided he could cook.
Which was already suspicious.
"Keifer," I called out lazily, "if you burn my kitchen, I swear—"
"I won't," he replied calmly.
A pause.
Then—
clang
I sat up. "What the hell was that?"
"Nothing."
"That did not sound like nothing."
"Relax."
I got up and walked toward the kitchen.
And immediately stopped.
"Oh my god."
There was flour. Everywhere.
On the counter.
On the floor.
On him.
I stared at him.
"You look like you fought a bakery and lost."
He looked down at himself, then back at me.
"…It's under control."
"Under control?" I scoffed. "You're a disaster."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Careful."
I froze.
Oh no.
That tone.
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't start."
He smirked slightly.
"Say it again."
"Say what?"
"You're a disaster."
I crossed my arms.
"You are a disaster."
He took one step closer.
Slow. Dangerous.
"And?"
I rolled my eyes. "What, are you going to—"
Then it hit me.
The rule.
Flashback — Section E Classroom
Keifer leaning back in his chair.
"If you use profanity one more time…"
His eyes locked onto mine.
"…I'll kiss you."
The entire class screaming.
Me throwing a book at him.
Present — Kitchen
My eyes widened slightly.
"You wouldn't."
He smiled.
"Try me."
I scoffed. "You're insane."
"Not a curse word."
I blinked.
"Oh, you want one?"
He stepped closer again.
"I'm waiting."
I smirked.
"Fine."
I pointed at him.
"You're a jerk."
In one second—
His hand moved to my waist.
Pulled me forward.
And his lips crashed into mine.
Warm. Firm.
Not rushed.
Not gentle either.
Just… certain.
My brain completely stopped working.
When he pulled back, I just stared at him.
"…You did not just—"
He tilted his head.
"You said jerk."
"That's not even—"
"It counts."
"You made that up!"
"I make the rules."
"You're such an asshole."
Silence.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"Oh?"
I froze again.
"Oh no—"
Too late.
This time the kiss was quicker.
But deeper.
His hand tightened slightly on my waist as he pulled me closer.
I pushed his chest lightly when he pulled away.
"You're abusing the system!"
"You're abusing the vocabulary."
"You're a—"
I stopped myself.
He leaned closer.
"Go on."
I narrowed my eyes.
"…You're annoying."
"Safe."
"…And stupid."
"Still safe."
"…And—"
I smirked.
"—a complete idiot."
He sighed.
"You're trying too hard."
I grinned.
"You're just mad I'm winning."
He leaned closer, voice dropping.
"You want to test that?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Fine."
I stepped closer deliberately.
"You're a—"
I paused for effect.
"—motherf—"
He didn't even let me finish.
His hand pulled me firmly against him.
This kiss—
Was not playful anymore.
It was deeper.
Longer.
Like all the tension, jealousy, and everything unspoken between us poured into that moment.
My fingers instinctively grabbed his shirt.
When he finally pulled back, both of us were slightly breathless.
I blinked.
"…Okay."
He smirked softly.
"Keep going."
I stared at him.
"You're enjoying this way too much."
"Yes."
I laughed, shaking my head.
"You're unbelievable."
"Still not a curse word."
I groaned.
"Fuck you."
And instantly—
He kissed me again.
This time, I didn't even pretend to resist.
Later — Living Room
I dropped onto the couch dramatically.
"This rule is stupid."
Keifer sat beside me, clearly amused.
"You're the one who keeps breaking it."
"Because you're provoking me!"
"Because you're easy to provoke."
"You're such a—"
I stopped.
He leaned in slightly.
"…Go on."
I pointed at him.
"No."
He smiled.
"Coward."
I gasped.
"I am not— you— ugh, you're so—"
I pressed my lips together tightly.
He laughed softly.
"Self-control doesn't suit you."
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.
"Shut up!"
He caught it easily.
Then leaned closer again, voice softer this time.
"You know…"
"What?"
"I don't actually mind waiting."
My expression softened slightly.
"…I know."
His fingers brushed lightly against my hand.
"But moments like this…"
He glanced at me.
"…make it harder."
I looked at him quietly.
Then smirked a little.
"Good."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Good?"
"Yes."
I leaned back into the couch.
"You deserve to suffer a little."
He laughed softly.
"Fair enough."
Then after a pause—
I muttered under my breath:
"…asshole."
He turned instantly.
"Oh?"
I froze.
"…No."
Too late.
He pulled me toward him again—
And kissed me.
And somewhere in the middle of a messy kitchen, a broken "rule," and too many kisses…
The line between fake engagement and real feelings
Was completely gone. ✨