004

Melina’s POV

I stood frozen on the sidewalk, my eyes darting between the pillars of the administration building I had just narrowly escaped and the tinted windows of Jace Hamilton’s aggressively villain-esque black sports car. 

My brain, currently functioning on two hours of sleep and the fumes of yesterday’s tequila, flashed a giant neon warning sign. 'Danger. Abort mission.' 

The scholarship board had just threatened to sever my financial lifeline for being a “manipulative instigator,” and here was the reigning king of athletic drama idling by the curb like an incredibly handsome incredibly pissed-off getaway driver.

“No thanks,” I told the rolled-down window, slapping a painfully bright fake smile onto my face. “I think I’m just going to walk. Get some fresh air. Maybe reflect on my terrible life choices. You know how it is.”

I pivoted on my heel, entirely prepared to sprint if necessary.

Jace simply pressed his very angry foot down on the gas pedal and the engine roared in a deafening throaty snarl that echoed off the brick buildings like a waking dragon. I flinched, my shoulders jumping to my ears.

“Get in the car, Melina,” his voice sliced through the dying rev of the engine, completely stripped of any warmth. “Final warning.”

A group of passing freshmen stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes growing wide as they stared at the hockey captain practically accosting the campus pariah. Fantastic. Just spectacular. So much for my new ninja-like existence.

I marched back to the car, yanked the heavy passenger door open and threw myself into the leather seat. I slammed the door so hard the windows rattled. “Fine. But if anyone asks, I was coerced.”

Jace didn't waste a second. He slammed the gearshift and tore away from the curb, leaving a very satisfying, very illegal patch of rubber on the university asphalt.

The silence inside the cabin was thicker than concrete. I sat perfectly rigid against the luxurious leather, my fingers drumming a nervous, frantic beat against my thighs. Jace stared straight ahead, his jaw locked so tight I was genuinely worried he might crack a molar. His knuckles were bone-white against the steering wheel.

“Look, I don't know where we're going,” I started, trying to inject some of my usual trademark sarcasm into the suffocating atmosphere, “but if you’re thinking of kidnapping me, you should seriously think twice. I have a terrible diet, I complain constantly and my resale value on the black market is plummeting as we speak. You’d lose money.”

He completely ignored me. He just took a sharp, aggressive turn, the tires squealing in protest and dove into a secluded, empty parking lot behind the old municipal library. He slammed on the brakes, throwing me forward against my seatbelt and threw the car into park.

Then, he finally turned his head. The sheer, absolute fury burning in his ice-blue eyes actually made me swallow my next joke.

“Why did you leave?” he exploded, his voice vibrating off the windshield. “Are you actually out of your mind, Melina? You left without waking me up, you strutted out the front door wearing my game jersey and you paraded right past a photographer! Do you have any idea what you've done?”

“Oh, excuse me for not sticking around to cook you a celebratory omelet!” I yelled right back, my own anger flaring hot and fast to meet his. “I woke up in my ex-boyfriend’s rival’s bed! My entire life was imploding! What did you want me to do, leave a five-star Yelp review on your nightstand?”

“I wanted you to wake me the hell up so we could sneak you out the back!” he roared, slamming his palm against the steering wheel. “My agent called me at six in the morning, Melina! Every single lucrative brand deal I have... the deals that are literally keeping my family from drowning in bankruptcy... are on the verge of total termination today! They think I'm a reckless, toxic liability who poached his rival's girl to start a war!”

“And you think my morning was a walk in the park?” I shrieked, throwing my hands up in the air. “I just got hauled in front of the scholarship board, Jace! The suits who pay for my education basically told me I'm one bad tweet away from being expelled! I don't have a safety net! If I lose this, I have nothing!”

We sat there, chests heaving, glaring at each other across the center console. The adrenaline was slowly leaking out of me, leaving behind a cold, hollow dread.

“We are completely screwed,” I whispered, the fight suddenly draining from my voice. “Over one stupid night.”

Jace rubbed a heavy hand over his face, his broad shoulders slumping under the invisible weight of his own impending ruin. “I know,” he muttered. He stared out the window for a long, agonizing minute before turning the key in the ignition. “I'll find a way to handle this. I promise.”

He drove the rest of the way in silence, dropping me off two blocks away from my apartment complex so no one would see us together. He didn't say goodbye. He just sped off, leaving me standing alone in the smog.

I dragged my exhausted, battered soul up the stairs to my apartment, fully prepared to face-plant onto my mattress and sleep for a thousand years. I unlocked the front door, pushed it open and stopped dead.

Tristan was standing in the middle of my living room. My heart did a violent, painful stutter in my chest. He looked perfect, as always. Sandy blond hair impeccably styled, expensive sweater hugging his athletic frame, looking like he belonged on the cover of a pretentious catalog. But his sharp green eyes were dark, furious and calculating.

“We need to talk about last night,” Tristan said, taking a step toward me.

“How did you get in here?” I demanded, my voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register. “Get out of my apartment, Tristan. Right now.”

“You slept with Jace Hamilton,” he accused, his voice rising, completely ignoring my demand. “You actually slept with him. You did it just to humiliate me, didn't you? You wanted to make me look like a fool in front of the entire campus!”

I actually laughed. A dry, humorless sound that scraped against my throat. “Spoiler alert, buddy: you did that all by yourself when you decided to play naked Twister with my best friend! You don't get to stand in my living room and play the victim!”

“It was a mistake!” he screamed, his face flushing a dark, ugly red. “Chloe means nothing to me! But you? You went straight to my worst enemy to retaliate! You are pathetic, Melina!”

“And you are a narcissistic, cheating piece of garbage!” I screamed back, stepping into his personal space, my index finger jabbing aggressively into his chest. “You broke my heart, Tristan! You betrayed me! And honestly? Sleeping with Jace was the best decision I ever made, because he is twice the man you will ever be!”

That hit a nerve. His eyes widened in pure outrage, his jaw working furiously. For a second, I thought he might actually hit me. Instead, he shoved past me, marching toward the open door.

“You are going to regret this,” Tristan spat, pausing in the doorway to level a vicious, promising glare at me. “I am going to make sure you lose that precious scholarship, Melina. I'm going to ruin you.”

He slammed the door behind him. The walls physically shook.

I collapsed onto my cheap sofa, dropping my head into my hands. My entire body trembled. The tears I had been fighting all day finally broke free, hot and miserable against my palms. I was completely alone. My boyfriend was a monster, my best friend was a traitor, my scholarship was hanging by a thread and my reputation was in the toilet.

'Knock, knock, knock.'

My head snapped up. I wiped my eyes furiously, a fresh wave of blinding anger surging through my veins. Tristan. That arrogant prick actually had the nerve to come back.

I stood up, grabbed a heavy, decorative ceramic vase off the side table and marched to the door. “I swear to God, Tristan, if you don't leave right now, 

I am going to smash your perfectly symmetrical face into a million...”

I yanked the door open.

I froze, the heavy vase raised high above my head like a lunatic. It wasn't Tristan.

Jace stood in the hallway, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dark jacket. He stared at the vase, one of his dark eyebrows arching in mild, unimpressed amusement.

“I usually prefer flowers in those,” Jace deadpanned, stepping forward and gently pushing my arm down.

Without waiting for an invitation, he walked past me, casually invading my tiny living room. He seemed to suck all the available oxygen out of the space, his massive frame making my apartment look like a dollhouse.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, setting the vase down and crossing my arms defensively over my chest. “I thought we agreed to stay away from each other.”

Jace turned around. He looked nervous. It was a bizarre expression on his usually stoic, confident face. He shifted his weight, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach do a nervous flip.

“I told you I would find a way to handle this,” he said, his voice a low, steady rumble. He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought of something. Something that will save your scholarship, save my brand deals and make Tristan absolutely lose his mind.”

“I'm listening,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

Jace took a deep breath, like he was bracing for an impact.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said clearly. “For exactly sixty

days. A strict, ironclad fake dating contract. We convince the entire world we're madly in love…”