Ava didn't expect to see him in the kitchen again.
Not at midnight. Not barefoot. Not shirtless.
But there he was—leaning against the counter in sweatpants, tousled hair, drinking water like he hadn't just walked out of every fantasy she tried to bury.
She froze at the doorway, fingers brushing her silk robe. "Can't sleep either?"
Jace looked over his shoulder, eyes traveling down her figure in a way that made her breath hitch. "Didn't know you'd be up."
"I live here now. Unfortunately."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Right. The wife."
The word sent a flutter through her chest. She hated how her body reacted to it.
She walked in slowly, reaching for a glass. His eyes never left her. Not even when she poured the water. Not even when she stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, skin nearly touching.
He was too close.
Too silent.
Too intense.
She turned to face him, the glass halfway to her lips. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" His voice was lower now.
"Like you're about to do something reckless."
He set his glass down.
"I might be," he said softly.
Her heart thundered. "Then maybe you should stop."
"I don't want to."
His hand reached for her cheek, brushing against her skin like a question he didn't know how to ask. She leaned into it before she could stop herself, breath trembling.
"I don't like you," she whispered.
"Liar."
And then his lips were on hers.
Soft. Slow. Like he was afraid she'd vanish if he kissed her too hard. But she didn't vanish. She clung to him, her fingers curling into his bare chest as he pulled her closer—closer than they'd ever been.
The kiss deepened, fire pouring from their mouths to their veins. She gasped against him, and he took it as permission, lifting her slightly, pressing her back against the cool marble counter.
Her robe slipped open at the shoulder. His hands trailed her waist, gripping her as if letting go wasn't an option. The kiss turned hungrier, deeper, like they were both starving and didn't know why.
She moaned softly when his mouth trailed down to her neck, lips brushing her collarbone. Her skin was on fire.
But just as suddenly… he stopped.
He pulled back, chest rising and falling like a man barely holding on.
Ava's eyes were wild, lips parted, breath heavy. "Why did you stop?"
Jace looked at her like she was the one breaking him. "Because if I don't stop now… I won't."
She bit her lip, heart racing, fingers still tangled in the front of his shirt. "Maybe I don't want you to."
His eyes darkened. "Don't say that unless you mean it."
"I do."
He leaned closer, foreheads touching, breaths mixing. "This wasn't supposed to happen."
"Then stop pretending you don't feel it," she whispered. "Because I do. Every time you look at me. Every time you walk away."
He kissed her again—harder this time, messier, more desperate. And this time, he didn't pull away.
They didn't make it to the bedroom.
The marble counter became the only truth they needed.
And in that heated, breathless moment, the contract meant nothing.