46. Kieran
KIERAN
Producer: “Jace told Liam that you used to hate him, is that true?”
Kieran: “It must be if he told Liam.”
Ugh. Why was that so hot? The way Jace stood up for Liam was an immediate turn on, and he wasn’t even standing up for me. It was another moment where Jace was nothing like the teenager I remember, and it’s so fucking confusing.
I want him.
Physically at least.
Our chemistry is off the charts, and the blowjob last night only proved I wasn’t misremembering how amazing that part of our relationship was all those years ago.
And now that we went there again, I don’t want to stop. I’ve been distracted all day, replaying last night over and over again in my mind, trying to convince myself that it was a one-time slip. That it won’t happen again.
But watching him defend his friend from the straight golden boy?
I can’t help but feel like he was chastising his former self.
That, more than anything he’s said or done, felt like proof that he might actually regret what happened between us…
even if I’m not ready to forgive him just yet for the very real pain he caused me physically, mentally, and emotionally.
And today, while I was lost in my thoughts, I found a whole new reason to be angry.
Because why did I have to know Jace back when he was a Grade A asshole?
Last week, when it was just JR who I was talking to, I was falling hard and fast. I really believed I’d finally found what I’d been searching for all these years—a partner who actually saw me.
Someone loving and supportive, someone who made me laugh and feel comfortable in ways no one else ever had.
Our growing relationship felt easy, natural, and I really believed we had a future together.
It’s hard though because he does seem like a different person now.
Sometimes he’s so genuine it almost makes me forget the pain that’s lingered in my heart for over a decade.
It’s embarrassing to admit how often Jace has crossed my mind over the years.
People say there’s something unforgettable about your first love.
Not that I’d call it love exactly. But the feelings and the impact he had on me were bigger than I could ever explain. And so was the pain when things ended.
Which only makes it harder not to wonder—if last week had been the first time we’d ever met, if I didn’t have years of scars with his name carved into them—could we have actually been happy together?
Do we still have a chance?
I’m angry that our now is so tainted by our past.
But I really enjoyed last night with him, despite my freakout, and I think I want to do it again because I am still very into him.
Jace seems to be a little self-conscious about the way he looks, and I’ve tried to make it clear that he has no fucking reason to be.
I’m more attracted to Jace than probably any of my previous partners.
But I’m not just going to gush about that when I’m supposed to hate him. No, I do hate him… I think.
It doesn’t seem to matter that I know better, that history has a way of repeating itself; I can’t stop wanting him. I can’t erase our past, but I also can’t ignore the pull I feel toward him.
With the plan we made, we’re going to be spending a lot more time together.
And despite the fact that he had my dick in his mouth less than twenty-four hours ago, I’m already desperate for another round.
I don’t know how I’ll be able to hold back from giving in to him the few more days we’re here, let alone the duration of the show.
Maybe giving in wouldn’t be the worst thing?
Jace knows it wouldn’t mean anything. I think we were on the same page about that last night, and he’s been back to his overly helpful, pretend-perfect-couple routine today without any problems. Maybe I can take what he’s offering and, at least physically, enjoy the time we have to spend together.
“Do you think we could leave too?” I ask. After his display, I’m really fucking horny. I don’t want to wait until this ends to touch him.
“Like… leave, leave?” he whispers, obviously excited by the idea.
Fuck. Is this a horrible idea?
No, I’ve already resigned myself that this is going to happen. I might as well give in now and enjoy the extra orgasms I know Jace is offering. I bite my lip and give him a quick once over before nodding slowly. “The way you stood up for your friend was really hot,” I admit.
“We’re definitely leaving,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the exit, clearly not giving a shit about what the producers expect from us right now.
The second the elevator dings at the end of the hallway, I hear Mitch yell for us. “Kieran! Jace! Where are you going? You can’t leave!”
“Oh, shit.” I laugh as Jace pays him no attention, hitting the elevator button while also laughing.
As soon as we’re inside, he’s jamming the Close Door button as if that’ll actually make it shut any faster.
It’s such a childish thing, but in a way, it reminds me even more of our past, hiding away from the world to be together.
Not like we were together. God, why can’t my brain stop romanticizing everything? We hid our hookups because Jace was in denial about his sexuality and had a shitty dad. It wasn’t some epic romance.
Sure, we might be on our way to go hookup for the second night in a row, but that’s just sex. We aren’t actually together.
“I can’t believe we just ran away from the party,” I say.
“Me neither, but honestly, I don’t think I even like Mitch. He’s not very nice.”
“I thought that was just me.” I grin back.
“Not just you. Come on.” Jace smirks, tugging me out of the elevator by our intertwined fingers toward our apartment. When we get inside our bedroom, Jace locks the door and turns to me.
“So, we’re here,” he says suggestively. “Are you going to use me again?”
I look at his mouth, and part of me wants to kiss him. But the louder part of me is screaming no because once we cross that line, I know I’ll be in too deep. It’s one thing to give in to the chemistry we’ve always had, but it’s something else entirely to break the rule I made for a reason.
The way he’s staring at me, the obvious heat and desire in his eyes, only makes it worse. His gaze drops to my lips and lingers before coming back up to meet mine, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking but refuses to be the one to move first.
God, if I kiss him right now, it’s over. I know myself. It won’t just be a kiss—it’ll be everything. And even though he’s already chipping away at my walls, I still haven’t forgiven him. I can’t give him that part of me again. Not until I’m sure he won’t break it.
It has to be just sex. Release. Nothing more.
I’m sure I’ll be able to think more clearly when all my blood isn’t being redirected south.
All I can focus on is how sexy Jace is, how his glasses and beard make him somehow look so distinguished and rugged at the same time.
How I can see a tease of his chest hair where his shirt collar dips, and how soft his brown curls felt between my fingers last night as I guided his mouth onto my cock.
How easy it would be for his thick arms to toss me around so he could have his way with me.
Fuck, I can’t put this off any longer.
I pop open the button on his pants and shove them down, along with his boxer briefs, until he’s standing in front of me with his cock out and pants around his ankles. He’s just as stunning as I remember, and I want to hate him more for it.
But I don’t. I can’t.
I’m not sure I even hate him at all.
But I can use him the way he’s suggesting.
“Fine, Jace. You want me to use you? Then let’s see if you ever learned how to use that thing,” I taunt. “Fuck me.”