AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“One night,” he persists, his eyes burning with an intensity that steals my breath.
The words hang between us, loaded with possibilities and dangers I’m not sure I’m ready to face.
Even though every rational part of me screams that this is a bad idea, I find myself sliding back into bed, drawn to Jace like a moth to a flame. As he lifts the blanket, inviting me into his warmth, I'm acutely aware of the line we're crossing. This isn't part of our arrangement. Stolen kisses and secret trysts are one thing, but spending the night, waking up in each other's arms—that's dangerous territory.
Yet, as I settle against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, I can't bring myself to care. For just one night, I want to pretend that this could be real, that we're more than a temporary distraction for each other.
In the soft glow of the bedside lamp, I study Jace's face, memorizing every line and curve. I dread the day when this will be just a memory, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been if circumstances were different.
We stare at each other for a few moments, neither of us saying anything, and he leans forward to press his forehead against mine. “You’re beautiful.”
My belly dips with the compliment, but I don’t say anything for fear that what comes out will ruin whatever we have going on right now.
The last thing I want is for emotions to distract me, especially when I have a career to prioritize. I should put an end to this and tell Jace that we can’t meet each night anymore, but my chest aches with the thought of him listening to me.
I don’t want this to end.
The realization crashes over me like a wave, sweeping away all my carefully constructed excuses. This arrangement was meant to be straightforward and uncomplicated—a way to scratch an itch and move on. But nothing about Jace is simple. He's become as essential to me as breathing, his touch a balm to my soul I never knew I needed. The thought of giving him up feels like contemplating my demise.
Yet with each tender moment, each shared laugh, I'm building a house of cards that's bound to collapse. I'm the reformed wild child, the professional who's finally proving herself. Jace is my brother's best friend, a rockstar with the world at his feet. We're from different worlds, playing a dangerous game where the stakes keep rising.
What scares me most isn't the potential fallout—it's the growing suspicion that I'd willingly risk it all for just one more night in his arms. When did Jace stop being a delicious distraction and start feeling like home?
As I drift off to sleep in Jace’s arms, a hidden thought bubbles up from the depths of my subconscious. What if this isn’t just about desire anymore? What if, somewhere along the way, I’ve stumbled headfirst into something dangerously close to love?
The tour will end, but will my feelings for Jace end with it? And, more importantly, do I want them to?
This game we’re playing has new stakes now, and I’m no longer sure I know the rules.
14
Jace
“How did you endup joining Raising Havoc?” Mallory asks after a few moments of silence with her head pressed against my chest.
Mallory’s question hangs in the air. I pause, my fingers tangled in her hair, as memories of a different life flood back. It’s a simple question, and it feels right to share a little more about who I am.
I run my fingers through her hair and smile at the memory of who I was before joining the band. “I was a back-up guitarist for another popular band for a few years.”
“Weren’t liking it anymore?”
“Not that I didn’t like it, just that I couldn’t stand being second best and wanted more for myself.”
“And you accomplished that,” Mallory whispers. “You sound like me, sorta.”
She leans up enough to look into my eyes, a level of vulnerability in her stare, and I arch a brow. “Oh yeah, how so?”
“I used to be a very different woman,” she says with a smile. “I miss her, but I wouldn’t go back to who I was. This is who I’m meant to be now.”
“Different how?”
“Oh, trust me, you don’t want those boring details.” Her cheeks heat as she makes the statement, and she fidgets with the blanket we’ve got wrapped around us.
“Uh uh,” I mutter, then sit up and cross my arms in front of me. “Now I’ve gotta know.”
She rolls her eyes and shrugs. “It’s not that interesting. I was the party type — if there was alcohol, you could count on me to be lurking around. One-night stands were my thing, never happening a second time because love was a blip on my radar, and I struggled to hold down jobs.”
As Mallory speaks, I see glimpses of the woman she used to be - wild, carefree, unapologetic. It’s a stark contrast to theprofessional façade she wears now, and I wonder which version of her I’m falling for - the reformed party girl or the ambitious career woman. Or maybe it’s the complex blend of both that’s captured my heart.
