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CHAPTER 17

JETT

“I could’ve just gotten a rideshare.”

Fia’s dim voice echoes through the cabin of my Mercedes as I coast down the street beside the club. The cool beach breeze slowly regulates my pulse that had been frantically thumping near my throat.

Fighting isn’t my thing. As the youngest child, I knew how to hold my own, but it was rare I had to. Likely adding even more to my irresponsible playboy streak.

Tonight, I saw red.

I’d fight every man in sight. Hell, I’d mop the floor with their blood if it meant protecting her.

Seeing another man’s hands on her drained everything from my body. At the bar, I knew she saw the women around me, and while I didn’t like the attention like I normally would, I got high off her jealousy. I think we both did. She’d never admit it, but her little shot was an act just for me. Decking a guy in the face wasn’t part of said act, but protecting her was non-negotiable.

In fact, I wasn’t prepared for how thrilling it was. I hadn’t even processed the deal I’d just made with her before the temptation of my past life threw itself at me. It was a shitty look, but it’s not like I don’t plan on proving to her that I’m not that kind of guy.

“And I could’ve let that idiot on the dance floor take you home.”

Fia tenses like stone.

I hate myself the second the words leave my tongue, still out of my element after what just happened.

Even so, I can’t help but be pissed at her pridefulness.

I can be impulsive; it’s just never resulted in violence. Normally, it’s in the form of taking home a woman one night, and her sister the next. I don’t think about consequences. It’s not often that I have any, but I’m realizing that all has a very different meaning now that I’m someone’s boyfriend.

Fake or not, every habit I once had is off the table if it doesn’t benefit her.

Groaning to myself, I rub my hands over the steering wheel. We’re not even a few hours into our fake relationship, and I’m already having out-of-body experiences.

“Are you hungry?” I ask. Breaking tension with food is always the answer.

“Not really.”

Fia’s words fall flat as she looks out at the miles of golden sand and blackened water beside us.

“Well, we’re eating,” I decide, partially because I’m hungry as fuck, and I don’t know if I’m ready to part ways with her just yet.

“I said I wasn’t hungry,” she snaps. Sitting taller in her seat, she turns in my direction, fire beaming from her vibrant green eyes.

“And I said, we’re going to eat.”

With a big huff, she flops back into her seat. Her exposed legs still glisten just as much as they did at the club, perhaps more as the lights illuminating the Miami streets flicker through the sunroof.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

The discreet mumble is meant just for her. I can’t help but turn my head away from her to release a wide grin.

Gone is the adrenaline from the impromptu brawl. Now, it’s fueled by something even better—us. Getting under her skin makes my veins swell. It’s a thrill I feel like I’ve sampled but never fully bitten, a rush I’ve always chased but never fulfilled until she came into my life.

I turn into a local diner a few miles down from the club, parking in the spot closest to the door, quickly shoving my car door open.

“Don’t touch the handle,” I bark as I rush from my side to hers.

“No one’s around. I can get my own door.”

At the same time that I pull, she pushes. My strength takes complete control of hers, forcing her to tumble forward into my arms.