Scarlett woke with Jackson's name on her lips.
The room was still dark, the faint glow of dawn barely creeping through the curtains, but her body was already awake—tight, aching, restless. The memory of his hands haunted her. Not what he'd done, but what he'd almost done. The way he'd stopped himself like it cost him blood.
She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, pulse loud in her ears.
This is getting dangerous.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
One message.
Jackson: I couldn't sleep. Meet me at the marina. Now.
Her heart slammed. No explanation. No teasing. Just urgency.
Scarlett was out of bed in seconds.
The marina was empty at that hour, mist curling over the water like a secret waiting to be touched. Jackson stood near the edge of the pier, jacket open, hands clenched at his sides like he was holding himself together by force alone.
He turned when he heard her footsteps.
The look in his eyes wasn't playful.
It was raw.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
"You told me to come," she replied, breathless.
"I know." His jaw tightened. "That's the problem."
She stepped closer anyway. One step. Then another. The space between them burned.
"You're avoiding me," she said softly.
"I'm trying not to ruin you."
That did it.
Scarlett laughed, sharp and shaky. "You think this is you ruining me?"
Jackson's control snapped.
He grabbed her wrist—not rough, but certain—and pulled her against him. Her breath punched out as her chest met his, heat everywhere. His other hand braced on the railing beside her, caging her in.
"You don't know what you do to me," he said low. "Every time you look at me like that. Every time you pretend you don't feel this."
She swallowed. "Then stop pretending."
His mouth hovered a breath away from hers. Close enough that she could feel his words against her lips.
"I will," he said, "if you tell me to."
She didn't.
Jackson kissed her like he'd been starving.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't slow. It was hunger and restraint colliding—his mouth claiming, then pulling back, then claiming again like he couldn't decide whether to devour her or save her from himself.
Scarlett's hands slid into his hair. She gasped into his mouth when his fingers found her waist, thumbs pressing into bare skin beneath her jacket. The world narrowed to heat, to breath, to the way her body leaned into him without permission.
"You feel that?" he murmured against her throat. "That's me losing."
She tilted her head, giving him access, and he groaned.
His mouth traced down her neck, lingering, teasing, stopping just before it became too much. Every pause was torture. Every second longer than it should have been.
"Jackson," she whispered, barely holding together.
His hands slid lower, fingers brushing the curve of her hip, then stopping—again.
Always stopping.
He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard. "If I keep going, I won't stop."
Her heart pounded. "Then don't."
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then footsteps echoed down the pier.
They froze.
A voice cut through the fog. "Scarlett?"
She pulled back sharply, panic flaring.
Madison.
Jackson swore under his breath, stepping away just as Madison appeared, eyes narrowing as she took in the scene—the closeness, the tension, the undeniable truth written all over them.
"Oh," Madison said slowly. "So this is what's been going on."
Scarlett opened her mouth, but no words came.
Jackson straightened, his expression unreadable, protective instinct flaring as he stepped slightly in front of Scarlett without even thinking.
Madison's gaze flicked between them, sharp and calculating.
"This changes things," she said.
Scarlett's stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"
Madison smiled—but it wasn't friendly. "You'll find out soon."
She turned and walked away, leaving silence and dread in her wake.
Scarlett looked up at Jackson, fear and desire tangled tight in her chest.
"What did she mean?" she asked.
Jackson's jaw clenched. "Nothing good."
He took her hand, squeezing once—grounding, steady.
"Whatever comes next," he said, voice low and certain, "they don't get to decide this."
Scarlett nodded, even as her heart screamed that something had just shifted.
Behind them, the fog thickened.
And somewhere between exposure and desire, their secret had stopped being safe.