The weekend arrived like a storm, heavy and impossible to ignore. Every glance, every touch, every stolen moment between Jace and me felt amplified, like the world outside had melted away and left only the two of us.
Avery hadn't backed down. If anything, she was worse whispering in the hallways, laughing too loudly with her friends whenever we passed, sending subtle threats that kept us both on edge. Every time I felt safe with Jace, a chill reminder reminded me we weren't.
But danger only made him more magnetic.
It started in the backyard. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, turning the sky a deep orange. Jace and I had found a quiet corner, behind the old fence where the trees shaded us from anyone passing.
"I hate that she's still out there," I whispered, watching a leaf flutter in the wind.
He stepped closer, brushing a hand along my arm in a way that made my pulse spike. "Then ignore her," he said, low and teasing, "because she doesn't matter."
"Easy for you to say," I murmured, but I couldn't look away. Not from him. Not from the intensity in his eyes, the heat radiating from his body, the way he made it impossible to think straight.
He smirked, that dangerous, crooked smile that always made my knees weak. "Doesn't matter? You know it matters. That's why you're standing here, thinking about her instead of your homework."
I shook my head, but it only brought me closer to him. "I'm thinking about you," I admitted quietly.
His smirk softened into something almost tender. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from my face, and my stomach twisted at the simple intimacy. "Good," he murmured. "Because I can't stop thinking about you."
I swallowed, heart racing. Every word, every look, every subtle touch was electrifying. "You're impossible," I whispered, though my lips betrayed me, twitching into a small smile.
"And you like it," he replied, leaning just a little closer, enough that the warmth of him brushed against me.
That night, we were supposed to be "studying" in the living room. But as soon as the door closed, the teasing began.
He leaned back on the couch, pretending to read, but his gaze was impossible to ignore. Every glance in my direction felt like a dare.
"Are you focusing?" he asked casually.
I shook my head. "No."
He smirked. "Good. Me neither."
The air between us was electric, every small movement amplified by the closeness. His hand brushed mine as I reached for a notebook, and I felt a spark so intense I had to take a deep breath.
"Stop teasing me," I whispered, though my voice trembled.
"I don't think I can," he replied softly, leaning a little closer, his shoulder brushing mine. "Not when you make it this easy."
I felt my cheeks flush. "Easy?"
"Yes," he murmured. "You're irresistible."
The words were a whisper, barely audible, but they sent my heart racing. I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him no. But I couldn't. The tension between us was too strong. Too intoxicating.
We stayed like that for what felt like hours inches apart, hearts racing, breathing the same air, unable to resist the magnetic pull. Every glance, every touch, every word built a pressure that neither of us could escape.
By the weekend, Avery had escalated again. A note slipped under the door, a vague threat, a reminder that she was always watching.
Jace and I read it together in the kitchen, his hand covering mine as we went through every word. "She's pushing us," he said finally, jaw tight. "Testing limits."
"I know," I whispered. "But what if she goes too far?"
He tilted my chin up, eyes fierce and protective. "Then we make sure she doesn't get the chance."
I shivered at the intensity. His presence alone was enough to make my knees weak, my heart race, my thoughts scatter. But it was more than that. It was the thrill, the forbidden nature of it, the way we were standing together against the world.
He leaned closer, brushing his lips against my forehead in a gentle, lingering touch. "I want you to feel safe with me," he whispered.
"I do," I admitted. "But it's terrifying."
"Good," he said, smirking. "Terrifying is what makes this exciting."
Later that night, we found ourselves in the backyard again, under the stars. The world was quiet, except for the faint rustle of the trees and the distant hum of the street.
Jace pulled me close, hands resting on my shoulders, forehead against mine. "You know I'd do anything to protect you," he murmured.
"I know," I whispered, heart pounding. "And I'd do the same for you."
"Even if it's dangerous?" he asked, brushing a hand against my cheek.
"Even if it's dangerous," I confirmed.
We stayed pressed together, close enough to feel every heartbeat, every breath. Every second, every tiny touch, every whispered word made the danger outside fade into nothing.
And yet, the knowledge that Avery was still out there waiting, scheming made everything more thrilling. More urgent.
It was wrong. Forbidden. Risky.
And we couldn't stop.
I wanted him. He wanted me.
And for the first time, it felt like nothing else mattered.
We were on the edge of exposure, of danger, of consequences. But in that moment, under the stars, with the world far away, I didn't care.
We were ours.
And that was enough.