Page 38 of False Start, Real Passion

And finally, I stop fighting it.

“Yes,” I breathe. “I love you.”

It’s out in the open now. There’s nothing left to hide. My fear. His hope. It’s all hanging in the air, clear as crystal, bright as a new star. I’ve never felt so exposed. I’ve never felt so free.

He pulls me in like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like he’s been waiting for this, like it’s the one pass he can’t let slip through his fingers. He closes the space, and I close my eyes, and the whole world shrinks down to nothing but this—his breath, my pulse, and the realization that I’m done pretending.

I kiss him back, with everything I have. With everything I’ve kept hidden, everything I didn’t dare admit until it all came spilling out and knocked us over.

He leans back just enough for us to catch our breath, just enough for our laughter to spill out and mingle in the space between us.

It’s a different kind of laughter than I’m used to. It’s not the dry, dismissive kind that’s meant to shield and deflect. It’s soft and hopeful and full of disbelief. It’s new.

His forehead presses to mine. “See Michaels. All you had to do was admit it.” He grins. It’s so bright, so wide, that I’m almost blinded by it.

“You don’t let up, do you?” I smile.

He pulls me even closer. “Nope.” He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, the tip of my nose. “You’re stuck with me now.”

My head rests on his shoulder, and everything about this moment feels unreal. I’ve spent the last few weeks playing by the rules. “What do we do now?” I ask, and Jaxon presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Now we stop pretending.”

“No more rules?”

“No more rules. Just us. For real.”

I trace a circle on his chest. He’s so solid and steady. “This is insane,” I say.

“No, this is perfect,” he counters, running his fingers down my back, sending sparks to all the places they shouldn’t reach.

Yet, it is sweet and honest and unpolished. And it’s enough to make me kiss him until we both forget where we are, until we both forget how much we’ve given up to get to this exact moment.

Before the night ends, we agree on one thing—tomorrow, we’ll have a real date. No cameras. No PR. Just us. Two people finally done lying to the world—and to themselves.

Chapter eleven

No More Pretending

Thenextmorning,sunlightfilters through my bedroom blinds, painting soft lines across Jaxon’s bare back as he lies beside me, arm slung possessively over my waist. His breathing is slow and steady, lips parted just slightly, like he’s finally found peace.

And somehow... so have I.

I don’t remember falling asleep, only the way he kissed me like he was afraid I’d disappear. The way he whispered my name like a vow against my skin. And the way I clung to him like a woman who’d finally stopped running.

This isn’t just lust or infatuation. It’s deeper. Calmer. Like finding home after years of pretending you didn’t need one.

I shift gently, brushing my fingers through his messy hair. His lashes flutter, and then he’s looking at me with those sleepy, devastating blue eyes.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” I whisper back.

His hand glides over my hip. “Any regrets?”

“Only that I waited this long.”

He grins. “I told you we were more than a damn press strategy.”

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