Chapter 3
Savannah
Should I have anticipated Jaxon showing up late? Yes.
Was I hoping he'd prove me wrong? Also yes.
I didn't know why I expected anything from him to begin with. It was just common decency to arrive on time—especially when the entire purpose of your presence was to make your fake girlfriend look composed and desirable. Yet here I was, twenty minutes into my cousin’s engagement party, alone, with a bright smile plastered on my face like a mark.
A bubbly laugh left my lips as I nodded through another round of small talk with guests I recognized from Chase's side of the family.
“Oh, Savannah!” a woman cooed, clutching my hand. “I just can’t believe Chase is getting married! You two were so serious for so long.”
“Yes, well,” I said smoothly, ignoring the burn in my throat, “life takes unexpected turns.”
“I guess the ring didn't fit for a reason,” another woman piped up, giggling behind her champagne glass. “No offense, hun. You have to admit, though—things were getting a little stale.”
Laughter rippled through the small group. I smiled wider, my jaw tight enough to crack.
“Guess so,” I said lightly, taking a long sip of my drink to keep from choking on my pride.
Every comment was a test of restraint.
Every pitying glance a reminder that, to them, I wasn’t Savannah Bristow—top of my class, scholarship recipient, future attorney. I was just the ex-girlfriend who lost her man to her cousin.
I excused myself from the conversation with a polite murmur and stepped toward the open terrace, the hum of polite laughter and soft jazz muffling behind me.
The Ruxbury Hotel event hall was decorated beautifully—Lori had Chase spare no expense.
It was a room of white, with the ceiling partially decorated in waves of deep midnight blue and glowing firefly lights.
String lights wrapped around every column and pastel drapes lined the walls.
Circular tables splayed across the marble floors with oversized pastel florals hanging from the ceiling.
Champagne flowed like water out of a ten-glass pyramid, and a mini garden glowed under the soft haze of powder blue.
It was like something plucked out of an enchanted forest fairytale.
Under different circumstances, it would've been romantic—something picturesque that every woman would dream of. Instead, it felt like the scene of a crime. I was dying a little inside with every passing second.
I checked the time. 6:23 p.m.
He was officially twenty minutes late.
Perfect.
I took another sip of champagne, my fingers tightening around the glass. He’d probably forgotten. Or worse—decided to make me the fool once again and leave me here, stranded. It was exactly the kind of reckless arrogance I should have expected, given our history.
I dug my phone from my clutch, thumb hovering over his number, ready to fire off a scathing text. But before I could type a single word, an all-too-familiar voice slid into my ear.
“Savvy!”
The nickname hit me like nails on a chalkboard.
I turned, schooling my expression into polite warmth. Lori stood a few feet away in a white midi dress that probably cost a month’s rent, the same smug glow of victory radiating off her like expensive perfume. Her hand sparkled under the lights—the ring flashing like a trophy.
“Lori,” I said evenly, forcing a smile. “You look… radiant.”
“Don’t I?” she said, smoothing over an invisible wrinkle from her dress. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you came! I wasn’t sure you’d show after everything.”
After everything. The words lingered between us like smoke.
I laughed softly, because what else was there to do? “Why wouldn’t I? You invited me.”
She tilted her head, pretending innocence.
“Still, I thought it might be… awkward. You know, with Chase and all.”
My fingers tightened around the stem of my glass. “No awkwardness here.”
Lori’s smile widened—too bright, too sharp.
“Fantastic! Chase and I want this wedding to go off smoothly, so the less drama, the better.”
If you didn't want drama, then you shouldn't have slept with my boyfriend then proceeded to say yes to marrying him.
That's what I wanted to say, but I took a sip of the champagne instead.
“So, tell me. Did you come alone?” And there it was. The question she’d been dying to ask since the second I walked in alone. “I told Grandmama that you were still recovering from the breakup and all, so—”
“Actually,” I said, my lips curving into a practiced smile, “my plus one isn't here yet. He's just running a little late.”
My tone was light and breezy, but on the inside, my pulse was hammering. Jaxon still wasn’t here.
Her perfectly shaped brows arched. “He?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding once. “My boyfriend.”
She blinked, clearly surprised, then recovered with a sugary laugh. “Oh, that’s so great! I didn't know you were dating someone. What’s his name?”
I took another sip of champagne, buying time as I glanced over her shoulder toward the entrance. Still no sign of him.
“Jaxon,” I said finally, the name feeling like a dare on my tongue.
Her smile faltered—just barely—but it was enough to make something darkly satisfying stir in my chest. In her eyes, I could see the spark of curiosity and interest.
“Well, I can't wait to meet this… mystery man. Until then, we simply have to catch up. I've been doing fabulous! And can you believe how beautiful this place is? My love, Chase, gave me everything I've ever wanted…”
I tuned her out as she went on and on about their loving relationship. She droned on about how difficult it was to get the floral arrangements together on such short notice.
There was no missing the underlying gloating in anything she said. She wanted to make sure I was fully aware of ‘her love’, Chase.
Then there was the hum of chatter around us. It started as a ripple—quiet murmurs, the tilt of heads toward the entryway.
“—and there was no way I was going to…” Lori’s words faltered, her attention drawn elsewhere.
I followed her gaze and nearly forgot how to breathe.
Jaxon Cage.
Late, unapologetic, and obscenely out of place in a room full of pastel perfection.
Every conversation in the room seemed to pause the moment he stepped through those wide double doors.
Beside me, Lori murmured under her breath, “Who is that?”—her voice laced with open admiration.
I hated that I understood the sentiment.
Because, yes, he looked devastating. The kind of man mothers warned their daughters about—the bad boy.
The man who would turn your life upside down and still have you begging for more.
My pulse tripped in irritation. At him. At myself.
At the simple fact that, if I wasn't careful, I'd be one of those women begging for chaos.
Jaxon’s gaze swept across the crowd slowly, then something dangerous flickered in his eyes when he found mine. The faintest hint of a smirk ghosted across his lips as he made his way toward me, moving with that same careless confidence that used to drive me insane in high school.
Dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt with two top buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, he was the definition of sin.
I caught the faint glint of a chain at his throat and definitely didn't miss the tattoos that peeked from under his cuffs when he shoved his hands into his pockets. His dark hair was slightly wet and messy, almost like he’d just walked out of the shower.
Dangerous, beautiful sin.
He was late, infuriatingly smug, and somehow ridiculously goodlooking.
Lori straightened beside me, clearly mistaking that look for herself.
“Oh,” she said softly, adjusting a curl of her hair, “I think he’s coming over here.”
Lori’s lips parted into a practiced smile just as Jaxon reached us, then promptly went rigid when he slid his arm around my waist.
Every muscle in my body locked.
His palm was warm against the small of my back, his body heat bleeding into mine as he leaned in and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to my cheek. The scent of him—clean soap, faint leather, and something warm—threatened every sensibility I held.
“Sorry I’m late, babe,” he said easily, voice low and smooth enough to sound dangerous.
“Traffic was a nightmare.”
Babe. I could’ve strangled him for it.
“You're late, dear.” I forced a tight smile, aware of the eyes still watching us. “I was beginning to think you got lost.”
“I may have underestimated downtown traffic. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you later.” There was no missing the suggestive tone in that. He leaned in slightly, voice low enough for only me to hear. “A hundred nicknames in the world, and you call me dear?”
“Would you prefer to be called an ass?”
His lips brushed against the nape of my neck, making me shudder. “If you wanted to see my ass, Savvy baby, all you had to do was ask.”
I was about to snap back when a throat cleared, reminding me that we were not alone.
Pulling back, I saw Lori watching us with hawk eyes.
I pulled myself together, stepping slightly forward. “Lori, this is Jaxon. My… boyfriend. Jaxon, this is Lori, cousin and bride-to-be.”
“Ah, so you're the infamous Lori.”
Lori’s smile tightened and she extended her hand. “Very nice to meet you, Jaxon. Savannah’s never mentioned you before.”
“Guess she likes keeping the best things to herself,” Jaxon replied smoothly, ignoring her hand completely and looking down at me with a grin.
“Oh, she always manages to,” she said with a laugh, a hint of bitterness burned into her words.
“Yes, well.” I cleared my throat, shifting my gaze from Jaxon to Lori. “Everything worked out for everyone in the end.”
“Of course it did.” She smiled sweetly. “Did Savannah show you pictures of my ring? It's stunning!”
My teeth grinded as she flashed the diamond ring for Jaxon to see. He glanced down at it, then looked back at Lori.
“It's a bit too tacky for my girl's taste, but it suits you just fine. What do you think, babe? Is this your type?”