JAY'S POV —
Before I can spiral any further into the fact that I am currently holding illegal silk in a billionaire's bedroom while fake-married to the most confusing man alive—
The bathroom door opens.
Steam immediately spills into the room, warm fog curling into the cold air, and my brain short-circuits so violently I genuinely stop functioning for a second.
Because Keifer walks out looking like a literal threat to public safety.
Grey sweats hanging low enough to make me question my religion.
Bare chest.
Defined abs still damp from the shower, water sliding slowly down his skin like some cinematic betrayal personally designed to ruin my mental stability.
His hair is wet, darker now, slightly messy with a towel hanging around his neck and—
Oh my God.
This man is divine.
Actually divine.
There should be laws.
Wait! WAIT WTF JAY JAY!!!!!
STOP IT! STOP DREAMING ABOUT KEIFER!!!
I recover instantly or at least I pretend to.
Very badly.
My eyes snap upward so fast it almost gives me whiplash while I clutch the nightdress behind my back like I'm hiding classified government files.
Keifer notices immediately.
Of course he does.
One eyebrow lifts slowly. "What's in your hand?"
Panic.
Immediate panic.
"Nothing."
His gaze lingers on me for a second longer.
Then toward the suspicious lump of blue silk barely hidden behind my back.
Then back to me.Silence.
And then—He just shrugs.
SHRUGS.
Like he's choosing peace today.
"Alright," he says calmly.
Why is that worse?
Why does that feel worse??
I clear my throat quickly, forcing my brain back into survival mode. "By the way do you uh… have spare clothes or something I can borrow?"
That finally pulls his attention fully back to me.
"You want my clothes?"
"Yes, Watson. That's usually what 'borrow' means."
His eyes flick once down my body before back up, expression unreadable.
"You can take one of my hoodies," he says casually. "But my shorts definitely won't fit you."
Rude.
Accurate.
But rude.
Before I can argue, he grabs his towel off his shoulder. "I'll go steal something from Sam's room."
"You're weirdly comfortable robbing your sister."
"She steals my watches. We can have an understanding."
I snort softly despite myself.
"Thanks," I mumble.
His expression softens just slightly.
"Yeah."
And then he walks past me toward the door, smelling unfairly good and fresh and warm and absolutely not helping my situation whatsoever.
The second the door closes behind him, I exhale violently.
"Oh my God."
I immediately press both hands against my face.
Because this is getting dangerous.
Not emotionally dangerous.
No.
Worse.
Hot dangerous.
Which is unacceptable.
Completely unacceptable.
I grab my clothes and practically flee into the bathroom before my brain embarrasses me further.
The second the hot water hits my skin, my entire body finally relaxes.
The day had been too loud.
Too emotional.
Too full.
But standing here beneath the steam, surrounded by warmth and silence, everything finally slows down enough for me to breathe again.
Until unfortunately—
My stupid brain remembers Keifer shirtless.
I immediately open my eyes in annoyance.
"This is hell," I mutter to myself.
Actual hell.
By the time I finish showering, the mirror is fogged completely and my hair is damp against my shoulders as I wrap myself quickly in a towel.
And then—
A knock.
"Jay?"
My stomach flips instantly for absolutely no reason.
"Yeah?"
A pause.
Then his voice through the door, lower now.
"Uh… here. I got the towel and shorts."
Why did the way he said shorts sound awkward?
Why am I suddenly awkward?
I hate this.
I open the bathroom door only slightly, keeping most of myself hidden behind it before slipping one hand out carefully.
Keifer stands there holding folded clothes in one hand, gaze respectfully fixed somewhere above my head like he's actively trying to behave.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"Thanks," I say quietly.
"Yeah."
His fingers brush mine for half a second as he hands them over and before my brain can start another crisis—
I quickly shut the door again back pressed against it heart beating way too fast.
KEIFER'S POV —
The second I walked out of that bathroom—
She stared.
Not subtly either.
Actually stared.
And for one deeply satisfying moment, Jay Mariano—the same woman who verbally destroys my soul for sport—completely lost the ability to function.
Her eyes dropped for half a second too long before snapping upward again so fast it almost made me laugh.
Cute.
Dangerously cute.
Especially because she immediately tried to act normal afterward while hiding something suspicious behind her back like she was smuggling state secrets.
"What's in your hand?"
The panic on her face was immediate.
"Nothing."
Liar.
A terrible liar, actually.
But I let it go because watching her spiral was already entertaining enough.
The second she disappeared into the bathroom, I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, towel around my neck, trying very hard not to think about the way she looked staring at me like that.
Didn't work.
Not even a little.
My eyes drifted toward the suspicious silk bag tossed carelessly near the bed and against my better judgment—I reached for it.
Bad idea.
Terrible idea.
Because the second I pulled the fabric out—
I froze.
"Oh for fuck's sake."
Blue silk lace.WTF!!!
Tiny enough to qualify as emotional manipulation.
I stared at the nightdress in complete disbelief before my brain immediately betrayed me by imagining Jay wearing it and unfortunately—
That image was vivid.
Far too vivid.
Long bare legs. Damp hair falling over one shoulder. That silk against her skin her walking towards me wearing this damn naughty thing and then we are inches apart then suddenly one of her strap falls from her shoulders and then....
I shut my eyes instantly.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
Not doing this tonight.
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down my face before stuffing the nightdress back exactly the way she'd hidden it.
Then I left before my thoughts became a criminal offense.
Sam nearly screamed when I entered her room.
"OH MY GOD BRO!! TRY KNOCKING NEXT TIME."
"Whatever,I need a pair of your shorts."
She blinked. "What?"
"For Jay."
Silence.
Then her expression slowly transformed into pure evil.
"No way."
"Sam."
"Oh my God," she whispered dramatically, clutching her blanket. "This is insane."
"Shorts.Now."
"You're sharing a room."
"Yes."
"I remember Mom bringing her something to wear for the night...was it a nightdress?"
I paused.
Her jaw dropped.
"SHE DID."
"I'm begging you to stop talking."
Sam fell backward onto her bed laughing while I seriously reconsidered moving continents.
Five minutes later, I knocked on the bathroom door and handed Jay the clothes without looking directly at her because I valued my remaining sanity.
Then I sat on the bed with my laptop open, trying to finish work while pretending my life was normal.
It wasn't.
Nothing about this was normal anymore.
I answered three emails.
Reviewed one contract.
Ignored the fact that Jay was showering ten feet away in my bathroom.
And then—
The bathroom door opened.
My brain shut off.Completely because there she was.
Wearing my black hoodie.
My hoodie.
The sleeves swallowed her hands slightly, the fabric hanging low enough to cover the tiny shorts underneath almost completely, and her damp hair fell around her shoulders while her bare legs caught the soft warm lighting of the room in a way that genuinely made me forget how breathing worked.
Smooth skin,sleepy eyes ,fresh from the shower and really comfortable in my clothes.
Jesus Christ.
I actually hiccuped.
A real one.
Jay blinked at me suspiciously. "...Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I lied immediately.
I was not even remotely okay.
Because something about seeing her dressed like that inside my room felt dangerously domestic.
Dangerously intimate.
Like she belonged here.
My chest tightened before I could stop it.
And that was worse than attraction.
Way worse.
She walked toward the bed casually, completely unaware she was actively ruining my psychological stability, grabbed one of the pillows—and started heading toward the small couch near the window.
I frowned immediately.
"What are you doing?"
She paused halfway there. "Uh… sleeping?"
I stared at the couch.
Then at her.
Then back at the couch.
"On that?"
"Well there's only one bed," she said awkwardly, like that explained everything.
And suddenly it clicked.
Right.
Fake marriage.
Sharing a room.
Jay—confident, sharp-tongued, terrifying in every boardroom imaginable—was shy because again fake marriage!!!
The realization hit me so hard it almost made me smile.
Instead, I shut my laptop quietly and placed it aside.
"You know you can just sleep here..there's literally a perfectly good bed right there."
She looked at me like I was the unreasonable one. "Keifer."
"Look if you're uncomfortable, I'll take the couch and you take the bed."
Her eyes widened immediately. "No. Absolutely not. You take the bed, I'll be fine."
"Jay."
"What?"
"I'm not sleeping peacefully knowing I made a woman sleep on a couch while I took the entire bed."
"That sounds dramatic and Watson ever heard gender equality??"
"It's manners not discrimination and beside you are already a really cranky person and sleeping in that couch will only make you more cranky in the morning"
"It's unnecessary and I'm ABSOLUTELY NOT CRANKY!!!!."
"Okay fine you aren't okay!? But It's happening,you are taking the bed I'll take the couch."
She stared at me for a second before exhaling dramatically. "Okay fine. But that couch is too small for you."
I stayed quiet.
Then she muttered reluctantly—
"So you know what we'll just… sleep on the same bed."
Over the moon.
That's the only way to describe it.
Because she said it so casually while my brain immediately short-circuited from the fact that I had imagined this exact situation more times than I would ever admit out loud.
Sleeping beside her.Waking up beside her.
Having her here and now it was happening.
Even if it was fake.
Even if she didn't know what this was doing to me.
"Fine," I said calmly somehow.
Academy award performance honestly.
She climbed into the bed first, pulling the blanket over herself carefully—and then committed an act of betrayal.
A fucking row of so many pillows between us.
An entire pillow wall.
I stared at the barrier in offended silence.
The fuck is this??
She looked weirdly satisfied with herself too.
"Boundaries,Watson" she said firmly.
I almost laughed.
Instead I just shook my head, switched off the lights, and laid down beside her in darkness.
The room went quiet after that.
Too quiet because now I could hear everything.
Her breathing.
The soft rustle every time she moved slightly.
The faint scent of my hoodie on her and somewhere in the dark, behind the ridiculous pillow barrier she built like it would save either of us—Jay slowly fell asleep beside me.
Meanwhile I stared at the ceiling realizing one terrifying thing with absolute clarity—
I was completely, utterly fucked...