Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
JADE
I found him after lunch—still riding the aftershock of the fight like it hadn’t cost him anything.
Like it didn’t terrify me.
"Leo," I hissed, catching his sleeve near the quad’s stone archway, ivy climbing up its cracked marble like it belonged in some old castle instead of a high school. “We need to talk.”
His head tilted. “About what?”
I swallowed. “About the fact that maybe the heat isn’t worth the fire.”
That stopped him.
His eyes flickered. The gold went sharp.
He didn’t say anything. Just grabbed my hand and pulled.
Right behind the arch, tucked in the shadow of the marble wall, we disappeared. Hidden from view. Cut off from the crowd and its hungry eyes.
Then he pressed me back against cool stone and kissed me.
Not a question. Not a whisper. A kiss that devoured hesitation, ripped the breath from my lungs, and made me forget everything.
His hands skimmed up my waist, fingers brushing just under the edge of my blouse. I gasped, and he swallowed it whole, mouth slanting over mine with that same reckless, unrelenting hunger he’d shown me at the bonfire—but now it was focused.
Not chaotic.
Intentional.
“Still think the heat’s not worth it?” he breathed, his lips tracing down my jaw, dragging heat in their wake.
My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. “Leo…”
“Tell me this isn’t worth it,” he murmured, dipping lower, his voice rough against my throat, “and I’ll walk away. Tell me I don’t light you up, Gitanilla, and I’ll stop.”
But I didn’t stop him.
I couldn’t.
Because he was right.
This was messy. Dangerous. Stupid.
And still… my fingers curled in his shirt, tugging him closer like gravity wasn’t enough.
It was worth it.
And that terrified me more than any of their stupid gossip ever could.
The locker room smelled like sweat, hairspray, and expensive perfume.
Girls peeled off cleats and fake smiles like armor, glancing over their shoulders at me as if they were checking to see how far the virus had spread. The virus, of course, being me.
I was in the middle of tying my shoes when three of them cornered me.
Not with fists. Worse—with smiles.
“You really think it’s cute, don’t you?” one of them asked, voice all sugar and venom.
“Leo’s just bored,” another chimed in. “This is what he does. Finds a project. Plays with it. And when he’s done?”
“He doesn’t clean up after himself,” the last one finished.
I stood, slow and steady, heart pounding so loud I could barely hear the rest.
“When he’s done,” the first girl said again, stepping closer, her manicured finger pointed like a threat, “we’ll be just getting started.”
I didn’t flinch.
I didn’t cry.
But the crack that formed behind my ribs? It was real.
Because they weren’t just mean girls—they were legacy mean girls. With power, influence, and names that came with invitations and threats.
This wasn’t what I came here for. This wasn’t the plan.
I was supposed to lay low, rebuild, survive.
Not become some headline next to the Prince of Royal Oaks Prep.
Not even Shani knew everything. She thought I was just hiding from a bad school situation. She didn’t know the full truth behind the fire I was running from.
By the time I showered, dressed, and slipped outside, the air had cooled to a crisp bite that reminded me fall was creeping in. Leo’s car was already idling by the curb, sleek and dark like temptation.
He didn’t talk much on the drive. Neither did I.
We pulled up in front of the cottage just as the sky started bleeding pink.
He looked over at me with that signature half-smirk. “You want me to come in?”
It wasn’t loaded. Not entirely.
Just a real offer. Like he wanted to exist in my world for a little while.
But my walls were already crawling back into place.
“I’ve got homework. And I need a shower,” I said softly, eyes on the windshield. “Besides… what would you even talk to my aunt about? Vegetable gardening? The fall harvest?”
He flinched.
It was small. Barely there.
But I saw it.
“I’m more than just window dressing, Jade,” he said quietly.
And that was the part that killed me.
Because he was.
He was more than the smirks and the fights and the flashy car.
He was a guy who remembered what flavor of coffee I liked. Who erased voicemails when I gave up too fast. Who pulled me to a cliff when he knew I was breaking.
But I couldn’t let him in—not all the way.
Not when I still didn’t know how to keep myself safe.
“I know,” I whispered. “I know you are.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek, quick and light, before stepping out and walking up the path.
The front door closed behind me, and I leaned against it, swallowing back the emotion crawling up my throat.
I wanted him.
But I wanted peace more.
And right now, it didn’t feel like I could have both.