Page 30 of Fake Fiancée for the Grump

"You smile around her, Jackson. That hasn't happened in a long time. She’s distracting you in a good way, from your pain."

I know he’s right, but I dismiss his observation with a casual wave of my hand. "It's nothing, Kennedy. Just a passing phase. She doesn’t feel anything for me, anyway."

He leans forward, his gaze piercing through my façade. "Jackson, you've been through a lot. I've watched you weather storms that would break most men. But this, this is different. Brinn is good for you. She’s worth taking a chance on.”

I make another move, trying to divert the conversation. "Kennedy, let's focus on the game, ok?"

He grabs my shoulders. "You can't escape your feelings by hiding behind chess pieces. You’ve kept yourself closed off for months because of what happened overseas. No matter what happened over there, you deserve to be happy here.”

I respect Kennedy, always have. But I don’t want to hear this right now. There’s too much already going on in my head. I can’t handle the complications that come with caring about Brinn.

I clench my jaw, resisting the truth in his words. "Kennedy, I appreciate your concern, but I don't need analysis. Brinn is my physical therapist, nothing more. This will be over for good soon."

"It's okay to feel, Jackson, to take a risk.”

My frustration bubbles just beneath the surface. "Feelings are a luxury, Kennedy. I can't afford to indulge in them."

"You've convinced yourself of that but denying what's happening won't make it disappear. Brinn’s softened your heart. She's not just a passing phase.”

"That's where you're wrong, Kennedy," I say, moving my queen across the board. "Brinn is a means to an end. After the baby shower, it's over. Checkmate."

Chapter nine

Jackson

Soft melody wafts through the air, creating a peaceful atmosphere. The hotel’s rooftop deck is serene, illuminated by the warm glow of ambient lights and the scattered brilliance of stars in the night sky. Brinn and I are seated at a table in the corner.

“So, how was your day?”

“Amazing. Thank you so much.”

She leans back in the booth, eyes closed, clearly reliving the day in her mind. Her hair is pulled back in a casual ponytail, curled tendrils framing her face. She looks like a sleeping angel.

Stop staring at her.

Brinn abruptly jerks from her thoughts, sitting up suddenly and catching me off guard. I become instantly distracted by something nonexistent on the wall.

I clear my throat. “Um. Sure. No problem, you deserved it.”

Real smooth.

Attempting to redirect, I make small talk. “Looks like you found the clothes I had delivered.”

Brinn’s wearing a casual, oversized blue sweater that hangs effortlessly off her shoulders. The knit fabric adds a touch of texture, creating a stylish vibe. It’s paired with leggings in a complimentary hue and soft, leather boots. Thankfully, Greyson knew her size.

“Yes. You have good taste,” she says, raising her glass. "Coming here wasn’t such a bad idea, after all."

I clink my glass with her in agreement. When I’m with Brinn, somehow I can forget about all the craziness in my life. Forget about Trevor. Sitting on this rooftop with her, nothing but the cool breeze rushing over my skin, I feel light. I feel… happy.

Ok, now I’m just proving Kennedy’s point.

Brinn leans forward, elbows on the table. "What actually happened to your leg?"

My eyes widen, and memories instantly flood my head. My body tenses, then I slump in my seat.

"I'm… I’m sorry, I didn't mean to pry." Brinn head hangs low, regret painting her face.

"No, it's fine." I rub my hands over my face. "I haven’t told anybody the details, not even my family.”

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