Page 85 of The Jack*ss in Class

I tensed, caught off guard. Of all the things I’d expected her to bring up, that wasn’t on the list.

“Everyone knows about it,” she continued when I didn’t immediately respond. “How you never date anyone longer than two weeks. How it’s... a game to you.”

“It’s not a game,” I said quietly, setting down my champagne glass.

“Then what is it?” Her voice was steady, but I could see the vulnerability behind her question. “Because I need to know if I’m just another girl you’re going to walk away from when your arbitrary deadline hits. Although, I guess I don’t know when the timer started.”

The truth hovered on the tip of my tongue, heavy and unfamiliar. I’d never explained my rule to anyone, not even my brothers. It had always been easier to let people believe I was just a player, unwilling to be tied down.

But Tempest deserved better than easy.

“After my mom died,” I began, the words coming slowly, “my dad was... destroyed. Completely shattered. He tried to hide it from us kids, but I remember waking up at night and hearing him crying in their bedroom.” I swallowed hard. “He never really recovered. Not completely.”

Tempest’s expression softened, but she remained silent, giving me space to continue.

“I was six, but I understood enough. Loving someone that much meant losing them could break you. And that scared the hell out of me.” I met her eyes. “The two-weekrule started in high school. Long enough for fun, short enough that no one got attached. Especially me.”

She didn’t say anything but softly squeezed my hand.

“It was... safe.” I shrugged. “Until you.”

Her breath caught. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re way past two weeks, Tempest. And instead of looking for an exit, I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to convince you to give me more time.”

Something flickered in her eyes, surprise, uncertainty, hope. “But what changed?”

“I did,” I admitted. “Or maybe you changed me. I don’t know. I just know that when I was at the combine, surrounded by everything I’ve worked for my entire life, I was thinking about you. About whether you were watching. About what you’d think of LA if I got drafted there.”

I reached across the table, offering my hand palm up. After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand in mine.

“I’m not saying I’ve got everything figured out,” I continued. “But I’m done pretending I don’t have feelings for you. That I’m not falling for you.”

OPERATION GET TEMPEST LAID

TEMPEST

Flynn’s words hung in the air between us, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight and the twinkling Denver skyline beyond the museum balcony. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was certain he could hear it.

I’d spent so long crafting perfect words on paper, dialogue, confessions, declarations of love, but now, faced with the real thing, I couldn’t find my voice.

“Tempest?” His expression shifted, uncertainty creeping in. “Was that too much, too soon?—”

“No,” I finally managed, squeezing his hand where it still held mine across the table. “It’s not too much. It’s just...”

How could I explain that no one had ever said those words to me before? That I’d written countless versions of this scene but never expected to live it?

“It’s just that I’m feeling the same way,” I admitted softly. “And that’s a little scary to me too.”

Relief washed over his face, his blue eyes brightening. “It is?”

“I’ve never done this before.” I gestured vaguely between us. “Any of it. I don’t know how.”

Flynn stood, circling the table without releasing my hand, and gently pulled me to my feet. “There’s no instruction manual,” he said, his voice low as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “We’ll figure it out together.”

He was so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, smell the subtle cologne that had been driving me crazy all evening. When his gaze dropped to my lips, I felt my breath hitch.

“Remember those promised kisses?” he asked.

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