JAY'S POV —
By the next morning, I convince myself I've regained control of my life.
Which is genuinely hilarious considering less than twelve hours ago I was indirectly kissing my ex-boyfriend from seven years ago while he was shirtless, feverish, emotionally devastating, and unfairly beautiful in my bed.
So already?
The universe and I are not on the same page.
The car stops outside Watson Enterprises and I stare up at the building through the tinted window with immediate hostility.
God, I hate rich men.
Especially THIS rich man.
The tower looks exactly like Keifer feels—cold glass, impossible height, intimidating for absolutely no reason, and expensive enough to make capitalism itself blush.
Jeremy leans over from beside me wearing sunglasses indoors like a divorced celebrity avoiding paparazzi.
"You look nervous," he says casually.
"I look homicidal."
"Those overlap for you emotionally."
I glare at him before stepping out of the car.
The second my heels hit the pavement, my lawyer mode kicks in automatically.
Chin up.
Expression neutral.
Emotions locked away where they belong.
Because after last night?
Absolutely the fuck not.
I am NOT spiraling over Mark Keifer Watson again.
Not after seven years. Not after the lies. Not after waking up wrapped around him like some emotionally confused weighted blanket.
Nope.
Dead issue.
Buried.
Cremated.
Launched into space.
Jeremy walks beside me as we enter the lobby and immediately something feels… off.
Too quiet.
Too attentive.
Like everyone suddenly became hyperaware of my existence.
A receptionist straightens so fast she nearly drops her tablet.
Two interns whisper aggressively near the coffee station.
One poor assistant sees me and literally panics.
"What the hell…" I mutter.
Then—
"Good morning, Mrs. Watson."
I stop walking.
Jeremy walks two more steps before realizing I've frozen.
Slowly, I turn.
"…excuse me?"
The receptionist smiles nervously.
"Welcome back, Madam Watson."
Jeremy makes a noise beside me that sounds medically concerning.
My eye twitches.
"No," I say calmly. Too calmly. "Let's try that again."
The receptionist visibly sweats.
"You… don't prefer Madam?"
Jeremy physically folds in half laughing.
"OH MY GOD," he wheezes. "HE CORPORATIZED THE DELUSION."
I close my eyes briefly because prison suddenly sounds relaxing.
"Who told you," I ask with terrifying softness, "to call me Mrs. Watson."
The receptionist points upward immediately like Keifer himself is God.
"Mr. Watson instructed everyone personally, ma'am."
Silence.
Then Jeremy grabs my arm violently.
"PERSONALLY?!" he gasps. "HE HELD A MEETING ABOUT YOU."
I whip toward the elevator instantly.
"Oh I'm going to kill him."
Jeremy follows happily.
"This is the most alive I've seen you in years."
"I'm serious."
"No babe, YOU kissed him medically. He's serious."
"I DID NOT KISS HIM."
"You literally hydrated him through passion."
"I hate you."
The elevator doors open and every employee inside immediately straightens.
One man nods respectfully.
"Morning, Mrs. Watson."
Jeremy loses his damn mind again.
By the time we reach the executive floor, I'm vibrating with rage so intense I could probably fistfight God successfully.
The doors to Keifer's office slide open automatically.
And there he is.
Asshole.
Absolute fucking asshole.
Sitting behind that massive black desk like he owns the world and unfortunately looking so offensively attractive it genuinely irritates me on a molecular level.
Black suit.
Rolled sleeves.
Watch glinting under the light.
Hair slightly messy like he's been dragging his hands through it all morning.
And the SMIRK.
That smug, slow, infuriating smirk the second he sees me.
Like he knew exactly what I'd do.
Like he was waiting for this.
Jeremy gasps dramatically behind me.
"Oh he looks EVIL pleased."
I storm forward immediately.
"Explain."
Keifer leans back in his chair lazily.
"Good morning, Attorney."
"No. Explain why your entire company thinks I married you in secret."
One dark eyebrow lifts.
"I didn't say anything about a secret marriage...."
My jaw DROPS.
Jeremy actually chokes.
"OH THIS MAN IS INSANE."
"JEREMY GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS CABIN RIGHT THIS SECOND OTHERWISE YOU'LL REGRE EVERYTHING YOU EVER DID IN YOU LIFE!!!!!," I snap.
Jeremy points at Keifer while backing away dramatically.
"You're my favorite mentally ill billionaire all the best Watson...."
The doors close behind him.
Silence drops instantly.
And then this bastard—THIS BASTARD—looks me up and down slowly before murmuring:
"You wore grey."
My stomach flips violently.
Which is ridiculous.
It's a COLOR.
Get a grip, Jay.
"I wore professionalism," I snap back.
"Mhm."
"I am here for legal consultation and not for stupid titles like wife or someone's Mrs."
"But you're angry like a wife."
"Oh my GOD!!!! fuck you Keifer!!!."
He smiles.
Actually smiles.
Slow. Malevolent. Beautiful.
"Yes Jay, please fuck me I promise I'll make it worth your while!!!!." He said with a wink....
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING HELL!!!!!!
DID HE JUST!???????
ABSOLUTE MENACE CRAZY ASSHOLE PERSON AHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!
"You!!! ASSHOLE !!!!! YOU need psychiatric evaluation RIGHT THIS SECOND YOU YOU PSYCHO!!!!!!."
"I'm kidding but you do need to stop pretending your pulse doesn't spike every time I look at you."
I hate the way my body betrays me immediately.
Because asshole—
It DOES.
The worst part?
He KNOWS it.
I can tell by the way his eyes darken slightly.
Like he can hear my heartbeat from across the room.
"I'm warning you," I say, pointing at him. "Whatever little power trip this is ends right now."
Keifer stands slowly.
And FUCK.
Why does he move like that???
Why does this man walk around like every room belongs to him and every person inside it is one bad decision away from ruining their life for him???
He rounds the desk calmly.
"Power trip?" he murmurs.
"Yes."
"You kissed me."
I freeze so hard I think my soul exits my body temporarily.
"…what."
Keifer watches me calmly while I stand there vibrating with rage.
Then his gaze flicks downward slightly to my lips and suddenly his expression changes.
"Oh," he murmurs softly. "You changed lipsticks today."
My entire body stills.
Because WHAT kind of observation is that??
"And if you are wondering how do I know this it is simply because," he says smoothly, standing now, "the last shade looked better after you kissed me."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
My brain flatlines.
"…I'm sorry?"
Keifer starts walking toward me slowly.
"You heard me."
"No." I laugh nervously. "No no no absolutely not because I never kissed you remember YOU were unconscious."
"Mhm."
"You had a fever."
"You seemed very worried."
"I WAS TRYING TO KEEP YOU ALIVE."
"And I appreciated the effort."
"You don't even REMEMBER IT."
His eyes lock onto mine.
Dangerously amused.
"I remember enough."
Oh fuck.
OH FUCK.
A slow heat crawls up my neck instantly.
"That's impossible."
"Is it?"
He steps closer.
One step.
Then another.
And suddenly my back hits the edge of his desk.
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
"I remember your hands on me," he says softly.
I hate the way my breathing changes.
"I remember you touching my chest."
"I was lowering your fever."
"You were blushing."
"I WAS SWEATING."
His mouth twitches.
"I remember you yelling at me unconscious."
"…that doesn't narrow anything down."
"And," he continues smoothly, "I remember waking up with your lipstick all over my mouth."
My brain combusts instantly.
Because THAT explains why he was smirking this morning.
OH MY GOD THIS EVIL MAN KNEW THE ENTIRE TIME.
"You manipulative asshole," I whisper in horror.
Keifer laughs quietly.
"I wanted to see if you'd confess."
"I WOULD RATHER DIE."
"No," he says softly, stepping even closer now, "you'd rather run."
That lands directly in my chest.
Painfully.
Because FUCK HIM.
Fuck him for still knowing exactly where to hit.
"I'm not running."
"You left before I woke up."
"You trapped me in your arms like a psychopath octopus."
A real laugh escapes him then.
God.
I forgot how dangerous that sound was.
"You looked comfortable."
"I was unconscious too."
"You drool when you sleep."
My eyes widen in betrayal.
"I DO NOT."
"You do."
"YOU'RE LYING."
"You also cling."
I point aggressively at him again.
"You had a fever. You were basically a heated blanket."
"And yet," he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "you still curled into me like your body remembered me before your pride did."
My breath catches.
Hard.
Because that line?
That line should genuinely be illegal.
The room suddenly feels too small.
Too warm.
Too him.
I can smell his cologne again faintly mixed with coffee and something distinctly Keifer and my stupid traitor brain immediately flashes back to last night—
His bare chest. His hand grabbing mine. His voice whispering don't leave me again.
I look away instantly.
Big mistake.
Because his fingers catch my chin gently.
Firmly.
Turning my face back toward him and suddenly I can't breathe properly at all.
"There she is," he murmurs quietly. "The panicked Jay Jay just like before whenever you are flustered the panic kicks in...it is still annoyingly cute by the way."😉
"I am not panicking."
"You're thinking too loudly I can for sure hear it."
"I hate you."
"No," he says softly, eyes dropping to my mouth again, "that's the problem, Jay, you don't hate me....you love me.."
His thumb brushes my jaw lightly.
And OH MY GOD.
The tension snaps so tight inside me I genuinely think I might either kiss him or commit felony assault.
Possibly both.
"But you know what really pissed me off?" he asks quietly.
I swallow once.
"What."
"That I waited seven years for you to kiss me again…"
His gaze locks onto my lips.
"…and I hate the fact ,that I was unconscious for it."
My heartbeat absolutely loses its fucking mind.....