Scarlett didn't sleep, she lay on her bed staring at the ceiling, the dark pressing in on her, her body still humming like it hadn't gotten the message that the night was over. Every time she closed her eyes, Jackson was there—his hands on her waist, his breath against her throat, the way he'd stopped himself like it was tearing him apart.
Whatever comes next, they don't get to decide this.
His words replayed again and again.
But Scarlett wasn't naive. She knew exactly what came next.
Consequences.
Her phone buzzed at 6:14 a.m.
She didn't have to look to know who it was.
Jackson: Are you awake?
She typed back before she could stop herself.
Scarlett: I never went to sleep.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then appeared again.
Jackson: Good. Because we need to talk.
Her stomach tightened.
Scarlett: About Madison?
A pause.
Jackson: About us.
That word—us—hit her harder than any confession.
They met at the cafe near campus, the one that smelled like burnt espresso and cinnamon rolls. It was too public, too bright, too full of people who didn't know they were sitting across from something fragile and explosive.
Jackson was already there, leaning against the counter, jaw tight, eyes shadowed. He looked tired. Dangerous. Like he'd been awake all night fighting himself.
When he saw her, something in his expression softened—and sharpened at the same time.
"Sit," he said quietly.
She did.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Scarlett broke the silence. "Madison knows."
Jackson nodded once. "She's known longer than we thought."
Scarlett's fingers curled around her coffee cup. "How?"
"She saw the way I look at you," he said bluntly. "She's not stupid."
Scarlett's breath caught. "So what now?"
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, lowering his voice. "Now we stop pretending this is something we can keep casual."
Her heart slammed. "Jackson—"
"No," he cut in gently but firmly. "You don't get to downplay this anymore. Not after the marina. Not after the way you looked at me."
Her cheeks burned. "You looked at me too."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "Yeah. That's the problem."
Silence stretched again, heavy with everything unsaid.
Then he said it.
"She threatened you."
Scarlett froze. "What?"
"She didn't say it outright," he continued, eyes darkening. "But that warning? That wasn't about trust. It was about leverage."
Scarlett's stomach dropped. "You think she's going to expose us."
"I know she is," Jackson said flatly. "The question is when—and how badly."
Fear crept up her spine. "If people find out…"
"I don't care," he said immediately.
She stared at him. "You should."
He shook his head. "No. You're the one who has more to lose."
That stung because it was true.
Scarlett swallowed. "Then maybe we should stop."
The word hung between them like a loaded gun.
Jackson's eyes locked onto hers. "Is that what you want?"
She opened her mouth.
No sound came out.
He leaned closer, voice low. "Scarlett. Look at me."
She did.
"Say it," he said. "Say you don't want this, and I'll walk away."
Her chest tightened. Her body betrayed her completely, leaning forward, aching.
"I can't," she whispered.
His breath hitched.
"Then don't ask me to stop," he said. "Because I won't survive it twice."
They left together.
They shouldn't have—but they did.
Jackson drove them out of town, past familiar streets into quiet roads lined with trees. Scarlett didn't ask where they were going. She knew.
His place.
The car ride was silent, tension thick enough to choke on. Every stoplight felt like a last chance to back out. Neither of them took it.
When he parked, Scarlett's pulse was roaring.
"Scarlett," he said before getting out. "Once we walk in there, this changes."
Her voice was steady when she answered. "I know."
Inside, the house was dim and quiet. No roommates. No interruptions.
Dangerous.
Jackson set his keys down slowly, like he was giving her time. When he turned, the restraint in his eyes was almost painful to look at.
"You're shaking," he said.
"So are you."
He stepped closer—but didn't touch her.
"Tell me what you're afraid of," he said.
She laughed weakly. "Everything."
"That's not an answer."
She inhaled. "I'm afraid if we start… I won't be able to stop."
His jaw clenched. "That makes two of us."
The space between them snapped.
Jackson's hands found her waist, firm, grounding. Scarlett gasped as he pulled her against him, heat crashing into her like a wave.
"This is me still holding back," he murmured.
She looked up at him, eyes dark. "Then don't."
The kiss that followed was nothing like before.
It wasn't teasing. It wasn't cautious.
It was slow, deep, consuming—his mouth moving over hers like he was memorizing her, like he was afraid she might disappear if he didn't.
Scarlett's hands slid under his jacket, gripping his shirt. She felt him shudder.
"Scarlett…" he breathed against her lips.
"Jackson," she whispered back, voice breaking.
His hands traced her back, fingers splaying like he needed to feel all of her. When his thumb brushed bare skin under her shirt, she sucked in a sharp breath.
"God," he muttered. "You feel like trouble."
She smiled shakily. "You always liked trouble."
He laughed softly—then kissed her again, deeper, harder.
They stumbled back against the couch, not quite falling, not quite stopping. Jackson's forehead rested against hers, both of them breathing hard.
"This is where I stop," he said hoarsely.
Scarlett blinked. "Why?"
"Because if I don't, I won't be able to look you in the eye tomorrow."
Her chest ached—but she understood.
She nodded. "Okay."
He pulled her into his arms instead, holding her tight, her head tucked under his chin. The intimacy of it was almost worse than the kiss.
They stayed like that for a long moment.
Then Jackson stiffened.
"What?" Scarlett asked.
He looked toward the window.
There—just outside—was a phone screen lighting up the darkness.
Someone was recording.
Scarlett's blood ran cold.
Jackson moved instantly, pulling her back, eyes blazing. The figure outside bolted.
"Madison," Scarlett whispered.
Jackson grabbed his keys. "Stay here."
"No," she said, panic rising. "I'm not hiding."
He looked at her—really looked—and nodded once. "Then stand with me."
They stepped outside together.
The night swallowed them whole.
And somewhere in the darkness, Scarlett knew one thing for certain:
Whatever Madison had just captured wasn't going to stay secret.
And when it came out—
It would destroy them.
Or bind them together forever.