"You think he loves you?" Avery's voice cracked with something between anger and heartbreak. "He's obsessed with the idea of it. Not you."
Her words sliced through me.
But Jace didn't flinch.
He stepped in front of me, shielding me like she was fire.
"Don't talk to her," he said. Low. Sharp. Lethal.
Avery's lip curled. "You really think this ends well for you?"
"I don't care how it ends," he growled. "I just care that it's her."
Her eyes glistened, and for a moment, I saw it: the betrayal behind her venom. She didn't just hate me.
She was in love with him.
"You were supposed to be mine," she whispered.
"I was never yours," Jace said coldly. "I never kissed you. Never touched you. Never made you promises."
"You didn't have to. You looked at me like you could." She turned to me, bitter and wild. "And then she came along with her little skirts and her wet-lipped smirks and you couldn't help yourself."
I stepped forward. "You're the one who stalked us. Took pictures. Threatened to expose him."
"Because someone had to stop this." She laughed, sharp and bitter. "He's sick, and you're sick for loving him."
"Then walk away, Avery," Jace said. "If you hate us so much, go."
"You think I came here just to confess?" Her smile twisted. "I sent the photos to myself for insurance. But I still have them. All of them. And if I see you two together again if I even smell your perfume on him"
"You'll what?" I snapped. "Blast it all over social media?"
She didn't blink. "I'll send them to your mom. With a message that says, *Ask your daughter what she's been doing with her stepson while you sleep*."
Silence.
Thick. Explosive.
Then Jace stepped forward, chest rising and falling like a warning. "You want to ruin my life? Go ahead. But if you drag her down with me, I swear to God"
"You'll what?" Avery whispered. "Hurt me?"
His fists curled.
I stepped between them. "Let's go."
He hesitated.
"Jace," I said again.
He turned to me. Looked down at me with eyes like storm clouds.
And nodded.
We walked back to the car, hand in hand, hearts in our throats.
Back at the house, he slammed the door shut, pacing like a caged animal.
"She's going to ruin us."
"We won't let her."
"She's unhinged, Lila."
"She's *heartbroken*, Jace."
He stopped pacing. Turned. "You feel sorry for her?"
"No. I feel sorry for us."
The words came out faster than I meant.
"I feel sorry for us," I said again. "Because no matter what we do—how careful we are—this ends in fire."
Jace crossed the room, took my face in his hands. "Then let it burn. I don't care anymore."
"You say that, but—"
"I mean it." His eyes locked on mine. "Let the whole world find out. Let them scream. Let them hate us. I'd still want you."
A shiver ran through me, part fear, part hunger. "Even if it destroys everything?"
He kissed me like he was answering a question I hadn't dared to ask. His mouth was rough and claiming, but his hands were soft on my face, as if he was still afraid I'd break.
I kissed him back like I didn't care if I shattered.
We stumbled toward the couch again his hoodie already sliding off, my shirt caught on my shoulders, his hands in my hair, in my skin, like he didn't know where to touch first.
He pushed me down, climbed over me, his breath ragged. "I need you."
"You have me."
He slid inside me slowly, and my head fell back against the cushion.
He moved deep and slow, like this wasn't just about lust anymore. Like this was his confession. His surrender.
Our bodies fit together perfectly too perfectly. Like fate didn't care what names we shared or how wrong this was.
We moved like we were alone in the world.
Until we weren't.
A creak.
A voice.
"Lila?"
My mother's voice.
The door started to open.
Jace froze.
I shoved him off me and rolled behind the couch just as the door creaked open and my mom stepped halfway inside.
I was breathless. Naked. Drenched in him.
Jace was red-faced, grabbing a pillow to cover himself.
"Hey," my mom said, blinking. "Did you see my charger in here?"
My throat was dry. "No. I don't think so."
She looked between us. Jace was sitting suspiciously still. My face was flushed. The tension in the room was suffocating.
But she just smiled, a little awkwardly. "Okay. Sorry to interrupt."
She shut the door.
And just like that, the moment was gone.
But the danger?
Closer than ever.