He was safe, presentable; exactly the kind of man who’d make Chase seethe.
We messaged through the day, arranging the details and getting to know each other.If I was in a different head space, maybe things could’ve been different between us.But for now, there was a need for revenge inside me—a monster that needed to be fed.
He understood the assignment: play the devoted, loving boyfriend at my cousin’s wedding—and for the next three weeks of this rehearsal nonsense—then disappear afterward.
Simple.Clean.No complications, expectations, or strings attached.
And no sex—I made that point abundantly clear.He was nice enough to laugh about it the third time I brought that up, then insisted again that he was happy to help me out.
Now, I sat in the same lounge as before, nerves coiled tight beneath my polished composure.We agreed to dinner at seven sharp, mainly to go over the deal again and set some ground rules, but the time was approaching seven-twenty.
I checked my phone again—no new messages.My wine sat untouched.My reflection in the glass looked too composed to be abandoned.
Maybe this was a mistake.Maybe I was delusional to think that I could beat Lori at whatever game she was playing.Usually, I would never stoop this low, but the faint touch of perfume couldn't cover the humiliation I felt.
Frowning, I opened Benji’s profile again, scanning his smiling face for reassurance.
Reliable.Charming.Not a complete sociopath.He had to show up, right?I wasn't cursed with some sort of bad luck, right?
My thumb hovered over the message bar.
SAVANNAH
Hey, just checking you’re still—
“Savannah?”
The voice came from in front of me—low and rough around the edges—pulling my gaze away from the phone.I was expecting a tall, clean-cut, handsome man with the easy grin from Benji’s pictures.
The man who stood before me couldn't have been further from that.
Tattoos trailed up his muscular forearms, black ink against tanned skin, then disappeared under his dark blue crew neck shirt.A silver chain hung around his neck with a jellyfish pendant in the middle.His light brown hair was a mess of careless waves, both sides faded low.A dark stubble created a shadow on his jaw, and his expression was unreadable.
And those eyes—a shade between burnt umber and caramel that was utterly, painfully familiar.
And then it hit me like a gavel.
Jaxon Cage.
My high school nightmare.The resident bad boy and former hockey god who used to make me flinch, now standing in front of me with a smirk that hadn’t aged a day.
This could not get any worse.
2 | The Pros and Cons List
Savannah
Itwasofficial.
Someone, somewhere, was sticking pins into a voodoo doll with my face on it.That was the only possible explanation for the man standing beside my table—hands in his pockets, interest flickering behind those dark, maddening eyes.
“You’re Savannah, right?I'm Jaxon.”
I didn’t answer.I just stared—really stared—at the face that had haunted me through every miserable year of high school.The tattoos were new, curling like black smoke over his forearms, but that smirk hadn’t changed a bit.
Jaxon freaking Cage.
Every buried memory clawed its way back, vivid as a nightmare:
