3. Do I? Can I?
Chapter three
Do I? Can I?
T he car glides through the city, cutting a quiet swath through the chaos. Jaxon sprawls like he owns it, all long legs and lazy confidence. I sit with perfect posture, a stick of dynamite wrapped in silk. The air is loaded, ready to explode with all the things we aren’t saying.
Jaxon looks like he’s lounging at a beach resort instead of a town car, relaxed and maddeningly at ease. Meanwhile, I’m a bundle of nerves wound so tightly it’s a wonder I haven’t snapped yet. The silence is thick, the buzz of everything unsaid vibrating between us.
I replay the night, trying to untangle the mess of emotions and attractions. The fake relationship feels like it’s slipping into dangerous territory. Did I miscalculate this badly? Is he really that good, or am I really that compromised?
Jaxon breaks the quiet, shattering it with a knowing grin. “Why’re you trying so hard to fight it?”
I stare out the window, but the city blurs under the weight of his question. “Fight what?”
His chuckle is low and rich, making my stomach flip. “This thing between us.”
“Imagining things, Jaxon,” I say, but the words are hollow, even to me.
The banter is sharp, too close to the truth. He’s perceptive, seeing through every thinly veiled attempt to deny what’s happening. My heart races, caught in a trap it built for itself, one I can’t even admit to building.
“You’ve been dodging it all night,” he presses, confident and amused. “Admit it. You want this as much as I do.”
His words are a reckless taunt. He knows I’m not immune, knows I’m too wrapped up in my professional facade to concede. But my defensiveness gives me away.
“There’s nothing to admit,” I say, but it’s a pathetic bluff.
“You know,” he drawls, breaking the silence, “for someone who claims this is all just business, you seem awfully affected by my presence.”
My head snaps towards him, my eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Just an observation. You’re wound tighter than a spring. It’s okay to admit it, Tori. The attraction between us.”
“Attraction?” I sputter, my voice rising an octave. “There is no attraction. You’re my client, and I’m your PR manager. End of story.”
Jaxon’s grin only widens, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. Maybe one day you’ll actually believe it.”
My internal struggle is written all over my face. I’m confusion and excitement wrapped in anxiety, each pulse of my heart a reminder of how far over my head I’ve waded. Why can’t I keep this under control? I’m supposed to be a PR genius, and here I am, failing to handle a client.
I try to focus on the stakes, the risk of getting too close. Jaxon’s unsettling charm, the pull I can’t escape. The entire job, the entire plan, is on shaky ground, and I’m wobbling right along with it.
It rattles me, sets off another round of internal chaos. Why does this feel so real when it’s supposed to be pretend? My heart has its own ideas, and they’re not lining up with the game plan.
I turn away, my jaw clenched, and stare resolutely out the window. But even as I deny it, I can feel the truth of his words, the undeniable pull that seems to exist between us.
And it terrifies me more than any media scandal ever could.
***
I fumble with my keys, my hands shaking as I finally manage to unlock the door to my apartment. Stumbling inside, I let my purse drop to the floor with a thud, too exhausted to care. I lean back against the door, letting it click shut behind me, and exhale deeply, trying to release the tension that’s been building all night.
The apartment is dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the glittering lights and constant chatter of the gala. I kick off my heels, wincing as my feet protest the hours spent in the unforgiving shoes. Padding across the plush carpet, I make my way to the living room and collapse onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions.
I close my eyes, trying to clear my mind, but all I can see is Jaxon. The way he looked at me, the way his touch sent shivers down my spine, the way his words seemed to pierce right through my carefully constructed defenses.
Everything feels off, like it belongs to someone else. Like I belong to someone else, a woman who let Jaxon Reid weave her into his web of charm and chaos.
My thoughts spiral, chasing the memories of his touch, his words. How did I let this happen? I replay the scene again and again, each flash of his eyes, each touch of his hand, each whispered promise. Why did it feel so real?
I try to convince myself it’s just a job. Just an act. But my heart is a runaway train, and I’m losing control of the brakes. I wonder if Jaxon’s playing with me, or if there’s something more beneath that cocky grin.
The confusion is overwhelming, a tide that sweeps away my professional resolve and leaves me drowning in uncertainty.
I can’t let him under my skin, can’t let him jeopardize years of hard work. But his touch, his words—they linger like an intoxicating promise.
Exhaustion weighs on me, a blend of desire and fear pulling me under. I’m at risk of losing more than the job. My heart’s teetering on the edge, and it terrifies me.
I stand, pacing the room, trying to fight the gravitational pull Jaxon has on every part of me. But I can’t shake him, can’t shake the way I felt in his arms, the way he saw right through me
As if on cue, my phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a new message. I reach for it, my heart stuttering in my chest as I see Jaxon’s name.
Bet you’re thinking about me, the text reads, followed by a winking emoji.
I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over the reply button. A part of me wants to fire back a witty retort, to put him in his place and remind him that this is strictly professional.
But another part of me, a part I’m trying desperately to ignore, wants to lean into it. To admit that yes, I am thinking about him. That is all I’m thinking about.
I groan, tossing the phone aside. This is not happening. I am not falling for Jaxon Reid.
I can’t.
I won’t.
“Get it together, Tori,” I mutter to myself. “You’re better than this.”
But even as the words leave my lips, I know they’re a lie. Because the truth is, Jaxon gets under my skin in a way no one else ever has. He challenges me, infuriates me, and makes me feel alive in ways I never knew possible.
And that terrifies me.
I’ve worked too hard, fought too long to get where I am today. I can’t risk it all for a fling with a star quarterback, no matter how tempting he may be.
My phone buzzes again, and I freeze. I tell myself not to look, to just ignore it and go to bed. But my traitorous feet are already carrying me back to the couch, my hand reaching for the device before I can stop myself.
Can’t stop thinking about you in that dress tonight. You looked amazing.
He’s making it so damn hard to resist him, with his charming words and his magnetic presence.
I take a deep breath, my fingers hovering over the screen. I should put a stop to this, should remind him that we’re colleagues, nothing more.
But instead, I find myself typing: You didn’t look so bad yourself.
I hit send before I can second-guess myself, a thrill rushing through me. It’s just a harmless text, I tell myself. It doesn’t mean anything.
But as I stare at the screen, waiting for his response, I know I’m lying to myself. Because with every passing moment, every charged interaction, I’m falling deeper and deeper under Jaxon Reid’s spell and I’m not sure I want to find my way out.