Page 40 of Fractured Faceoff

Jared signaled for the check and pulled out his wallet without hesitation.

“I’ve got this,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Instead, I watched him handle the transaction with an ease that seemed to come naturally to him. As he handed the server his card, our eyes met again.

"I'm your man now," Jared said, his voice unwavering. "I pay for the dates, Isla. I'm not some heathen who splits the bill or makes you pay."

I swallowed hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. With Brody, once things got comfortable, he stopped trying to impress me. Dates became rare, and we split bills or alternated who paid for what. But Jared—Jared was different.

When the waiter returned with Jared's card, he pulled out a crisp one hundred-dollar bill and left it as a tip. My heart skipped a beat. Was this part of the ruse? Was he trying to win me over?

But no. I was already won over. I had already agreed.

"Ready?" he asked, standing up.

I nodded, rising from my seat. As we headedout of the restaurant, Jared’s hand touched the small of my back. I jumped, startled by the contact.

"Whoa," I said, turning to look at him. "What are you doing?"

"You're my girl now, Isla," he said calmly. "What do you think I'm doing?"

I swallowed again, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I... I'm not big on physical affection."

"And I am," he replied without missing a beat. "I don't have to push boundaries here, sugar. I'm not trying to cross lines. But if we're dating, you're going to have to let me touch you."

His words hung in the air between us like an unspoken challenge. My mind raced as I processed what he was saying. Physical affection had always been a tricky subject for me, something I kept at arm’s length.

"I guess I can try," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled then, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "That's all I'm asking. We'll practice so you get used to it."

As we walked out into the cool night air, his hand remained on my back, a gentle yet firm reminder of our new arrangement. It felt strange but also reassuring in a way I hadn’t expected.

We reached his truck, and he opened the door for me with a flourish that was almost theatrical.

"Thank you," I murmured as I slid into the passenger seat.

"No need to thank me," he replied, closing the door behind me before walking around to his side.

As we drove through the city streets, silence settled between us—not uncomfortable but contemplative. This whole situation was surreal; it felt like stepping intosomeone else's life. Yet there was an undeniable thrill coursing through me—a sense of reclaiming control over my narrative.

As we cruised through the dimly lit streets, Jared broke the silence. "Where are you living now?"

"With my best friend," I replied, looking out the window at the passing cityscape. "Autumn."

"Well, we're going to have to change that," he said, matter-of-factly.

I turned to him, frowning. "What?"

"You'll move in with me."

My heart skipped a beat. "Jared, no. That's too..."

"Much?" he finished for me, glancing over with a knowing look.

I sucked in a breath, feeling the weight of his suggestion. "Yes, yes, it is too much."

He nodded, as if expecting my response. "We’re going to have to spend more time together. You don’t have a place to stay right now. This would add credibility to our... arrangement."

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