Craving my mom best friend

Chapter 3

Arielle pov

I didn't sleep.

Not because of the storm—but because of the kiss.

Because of him.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel the press of Jace's lips against mine. The grip of his hands. The hunger in his stare that made me forget my name.

I wanted to call it a mistake. I wanted to say it never should've happened.

But it wasn't a mistake.

It was a moment of weakness... that I hadn't tried hard enough to stop.

I pressed the heels of my hands to my face as I sat at the edge of the bed, heart pounding with guilt. You're a grown woman, Arielle. You've been through worse. Control yourself.

I had to bury it. Whatever that was—it couldn't happen again.

He was nineteen.My best friend's son. His entire life still ahead of him. Mine? A mess of trauma, baggage, and bad choices.

I couldn't ruin him just because I was lonely.

Or tempted.

Or dying for someone to look at me like I mattered.

⸻

Jace pov

I didn't expect to see her in the hallway that morning. Not that early.

Wearing leggings and a hoodie. Hair in a messy bun. No makeup. Still the most beautiful thing I'd seen in months.

She saw me, froze. Then turned like she hadn't.

"Hey," I called.

She didn't stop.

I followed.

"Arielle."

"I have somewhere to be."

"You're avoiding me."

"No," she said too fast. "I just have errands."

I stepped in front of her. She startled.

"You kissed me last night," I said. "You pulled me in."

"That was a mistake."

"I don't believe you."

She met my gaze, jaw clenched. "You should."

"You were shaking."

"Because I was scared."

"Of me?"

"Of myself."

That shut me up.

She stepped around me and walked straight to the front door.

And then I said something I probably shouldn't have.

"I bet he never looked at you like I do."

She froze. Her back tensed.

I didn't stop.

"Your ex. Your husband. I bet he never saw you—not like I do. I bet he touched you like you were breakable. I'd touch you like you were mine."

She turned around. "Don't talk about him."

"I will. Because I see what he left behind. The way you flinch when someone gets too close. The way you look in mirrors like you're not sure you're still wanted."

Her face broke—just for a second.

"I want you," I whispered. "God help me, I crave you."

She stared at me, breath caught in her chest. Then she looked away, blinking fast.

"I'm not something you can fix, Jace."

"I don't want to fix you. I want to have you."

"You think that sounds romantic?" she snapped. "It sounds dangerous."

"Good."

⸻

Later that day...

Arielle didn't come home.

She left a note on the fridge for my mom. Something about staying at a friend's overnight. Something safe and vague.

But I knew the truth.

She was scared of what she felt last night—and what she felt this morning.

I should've let her go.

Should've walked away, let her breathe.

But I couldn't.

So I waited until midnight. Slipped out. Drove across town.

I knew where she'd go. Her old college friend, Laura—divorced, lived alone. I'd seen her address once on a birthday invitation Mom made me drop off.

I parked down the block.

Waited.

Watched.

Sure enough, around 12:37 a.m., the porch light flicked on.

Arielle stepped out.

Still in that same hoodie. Hugging herself like she didn't belong.

She wasn't alone.

A man stepped out after her.

Tall. Late thirties. Leather jacket. Smirking.

He leaned close. Kissed her cheek. Then whispered something in her ear that made her laugh—laugh.

My hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

He touched her elbow.

Too long.

She didn't move.

Too comfortable.

My pulse pounded. Jealousy roared in my ears like blood. My jaw clenched until it ached.

She was mine.

She just didn't know it yet.

I started the engine.

She looked up—startled.

Our eyes locked through the windshield.

And her smile vanished.

⸻

Arielle

The sound of his car door slamming made my blood turn to ice.

"Jace!" I ran toward him, grabbing his arm before he could do something reckless. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

He stared past me at Dylan, who stood frozen on the porch. "Who's that?"

"A friend."

"Does he know you kissed me last night?"

"Jace—"

"Does he know I've had your mouth on mine, your body pressed against me like you needed it?"

My hand cracked across his cheek before I realized I'd raised it.

The slap echoed.

Silence followed.

Tears welled in my eyes.

He looked down at me, jaw flexing, cheek pink. Not angry. Just... hurt.

"You're playing with fire," I whispered, voice trembling. "You don't understand what this could do."

He leaned in, voice low. Possessive. Dangerous.

"I'm not afraid to burn."

Then he turned, got in the car, and drove off into the night.

Leaving me breathless.

And terrified.