The days after our music room escape felt electric, almost unbearable.
Every glance Jace gave me in class sent a jolt through my chest. Every brush of our hands in the hall left me breathless. And every whispered conversation I overheard about school rumors reminded me how close we were to being discovered.
Avery hadn't stopped. She had escalated the whispers were louder now, the glances sharper. And I knew that any misstep could give her the perfect weapon.
But the danger made it impossible to resist him.
It started in the library. I had been buried in a stack of textbooks, pretending to study, but my focus was elsewhere on him.
He leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed, watching me like a predator. Not in a threatening way, but in the way that made my pulse race and my stomach twist.
"You're distracted," he murmured, low and teasing.
"Not true," I said, though my voice trembled. I looked down at my notebook, pretending to write notes I didn't care about.
He slid into the seat across from me, his arm brushing mine just barely but enough to send sparks shooting down my spine.
"You know I can feel you thinking about me," he whispered.
I glanced up, pretending to be annoyed. "I'm not thinking about you."
"Right," he said, smirking, that dangerous half-smile that always left me breathless. "Not at all. Totally focused on history."
I rolled my eyes. "I am."
"Then why do your cheeks look like you've been caught doing something naughty?"
I froze.
He leaned closer, close enough that I could feel his warmth. The scent of him was intoxicating, and I knew if he moved just slightly closer, I wouldn't be able to resist.
"Jace…" I whispered, voice catching. "Not here."
"Why?" he murmured, teasingly, "Doesn't feel like anyone's around."
I looked over my shoulder. The library was empty except for a couple of students in the far corner. Safe. Dangerous. Perfect.
He smirked, eyes darkening with mischief. "Exactly."
By the end of lunch, we were outside on the old practice field far from the cafeteria chaos.
He grabbed my hand, tugging me into a shadowed corner behind the bleachers. My heart raced so fast I thought he could hear it.
"Every time we do this," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face, "I feel like we're stealing something the world doesn't want us to have."
"I know," I whispered. "And it scares me."
"Good," he said, smirking. "Scared means alive."
His hand grazed mine again slow, teasing, deliberate. I shivered.
"I hate that you're so irresistible," I admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
"Good," he replied, leaning in, close enough that I could feel his lips almost brushing mine. "Because I like it when you feel it too."
I closed my eyes for a second, wanting it, needing it — but knowing we couldn't let it go too far. Not here. Not yet.
But he leaned closer, forehead against mine, and whispered, "One day, no one will be able to stop us."
"I hope that day comes soon," I whispered back.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. Every class, every glance, every accidental touch sent my mind spiraling. Jace was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
By the time school ended, Avery had been lurking nearby, her eyes sharp, calculating. And I knew we couldn't let her catch even a hint of us.
We walked to the car, hands brushing, our fingers teasingly close but not quite touching. Every step was a battle of control.
"I can't believe she's still watching," I whispered.
Jace's hand found mine in the car, fingers interlacing just slightly. "Let her watch. Let her try. Doesn't matter. We're ours, and that's enough."
I squeezed his hand back, feeling a spark shoot up my arm. "It doesn't feel like enough when she's plotting against us."
"Then we make sure she can't hurt us," he said, eyes dark, jaw tight. "We're smarter. Faster. Together."
The intensity of his gaze left me breathless. There was something so dangerous and thrilling in the way he looked at me like he could see straight through my thoughts, my fears, my desires.
And I knew I wasn't the only one burning.
That night, at home, the tension didn't end.
We were in the kitchen supposedly "helping" with dinner but every movement was deliberate. Every brush of his arm against mine sent a shiver down my spine.
"Do you ever think about it?" I asked quietly, just loud enough for him to hear.
"About what?"
"You and me," I admitted. "This. All of it. Even when we shouldn't."
He didn't answer immediately. Just leaned closer, close enough that our shoulders touched. "Every second," he whispered. "Even when it drives me crazy."
I felt my face flush. "It drives me crazy too."
"Good," he said softly. "Then we're in sync."
We stood there for a long moment, breathing the same air, hearts hammering, knowing we couldn't let anyone see what was happening between us.
Every stolen glance, every teasing touch, every whispered word made it impossible to think about anything else.
And I realized something terrifying and wonderful:
No matter what Avery did, no matter how close we were to being caught, I didn't want to stop.
I wanted him.
And he wanted me.
Even if the world said we shouldn't.
Even if everything we had was dangerous.
We were ours.
And nothing not rumors, not threats, not secrets could take that away.