Chapter 2
934 Words
Rina didn’t plan on ending up in Jace Ezan’s apartment.
She stood in the doorway, unsure if this was bravery or the stupidest thing she’d ever done. The place looked exactly how she imagined a campus star lived minimal, expensive, too neat for someone who lived in constant chaos.
Jace leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching her like she might bolt at any second.
She almost did.
On the table between them lay a crisp white sheet of paper. One page. Black ink. Too simple for something that could destroy both their lives.
He cleared his throat. “Did anyone follow you?”
She shook her head. “I’m invisible, remember?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Not to me.”
Rina’s stomach dipped an infuriating reaction she blamed on stress, not him. Never him.
She dropped her bag onto the chair. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Jace didn’t move. He didn’t blink. He just… looked at her, like she was something fragile he didn’t know how to hold without breaking it.
“I want to make sure you’re okay doing this,” he said finally.
That irritated her more. “You’re the one at risk, Ezan. I’m just the girl everyone thinks ruined your future.”
His jaw tightened. “You didn’t ruin anything.”
“Tell that to the comments section.”
For a breath, silence stretched between them, heavy, charged, almost suffocating.
Then Jace pushed off the counter and walked toward her. Slow, careful steps.
He slid the paper toward her across the table.
“Read it. If anything feels wrong, say so.”
Rina picked up the page, hands trembling before she forced them still.
THE CONTRACT
– Duration: Three months
– Public relationship only
– No intimacy unless required by circumstances
– No emotional involvement
– Both parties must protect each other from rumors
– Ending clause: Either may exit if the arrangement becomes harmful
She stared at the last line.
Harmful.
Everything already hurt.
“Why three months?” she asked quietly.
“Because that’s how long the committee monitors players after a rumor scandal,” he said. “After that, they’ll stop watching my personal life.”
“And mine.”
His eyes softened. “Especially yours.”
She hated that softness. It slipped under her skin, making it hard to breathe.
Jace picked up the pen, twirling it between his fingers. “We can add or remove anything.”
“Like what?”
He swallowed. Hard.
“Like the rule about… no feelings.”
Her heart stuttered. “You put that rule in.”
“I know,” he said, voice low. “Didn’t mean I liked writing it.”
Rina looked away, heat crawling up her neck. She hated how his honesty disarmed her more than his smile ever could.
“We’re not adding anything,” she said. “Or removing anything. This stays.”
He exhaled, but she didn’t know if it was relief or disappointment.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Then we sign.”
Jace slid the pen into her hand.
Her fingers brushed his.
Everything in her froze.
His touch wasn’t electric. It wasn’t explosive.
It was worse, steady, grounding, like a promise she wasn’t ready for.
“Rina…” His voice dipped, softening in a way she had never heard from him. “You’re sure?”
“No,” she whispered. “But the damage is done.”
His gaze caught hers. “Then let’s take control of it.”
Rina inhaled, forced her heartbeat to behave, and signed her name.
Rina Hale.
A clean, permanent scar across a blank page.
She pushed the contract toward him.
Jace didn’t take the pen immediately. He studied her like he was memorizing the moment or memorizing her.
“You’re braver than you think,” he said.
“Sign the paper, Jace.”
A slow smile curved his mouth. Not cocky. Not playful. Something else, a quiet surrender he didn’t want her to see.
He lowered the pen.
Jace Ezan.
His signature looked like it belonged on a championship banner, not beside hers on a fake relationship contract.
He flipped the paper over, sealing their agreement with a firm press of his palm.
“It’s done.”
Rina stepped back. “So what now? We just… pretend?”
Jace slipped his hands into his pockets, eyes never leaving her.
“We start with the easy part.”
“What’s that?”
“You stay close to me,” he said simply. “Everywhere.”
“Everywhere?” she echoed.
He nodded. “Rumors spread fast. We spread faster.”
Her pulse jumped. Irritating. Predictable. Annoyingly human.
“And the hard part?” she whispered.
Jace moved closer, close enough that she felt the warmth of his breath and the steady calm beneath his storm.
“The hard part,” he said, voice barely above a whisper,
“is pretending I don’t already care.”
Rina’s breath caught.
The contract sat between them, ink drying, rules waiting to be broken, and a future neither of them saw coming.
Jace straightened, pulling the mask of the confident golden boy back over his features.
“Ready?” he asked.
“No.”
He grinned. “Good. Neither am I.”
He opened the door for her.
And as she stepped out, Rina knew, deep in her bones that the real danger wasn’t the rumors.
It was Jace Ezan.
And the way he looked at her like he had already chosen her long before she ever agreed to this lie.
- Writer
