JayJay POV
It started with a kiss.
Not the soft kind.
The kind that crashes into you like a storm you didn't see coming.
And I hated that I responded.
I hated that my heart didn't listen to my brain.
Because this was the same mouth that once told me I was just a game.
So I did what any emotionally unstable, lip-gloss-wearing girl would do.
I punched him.
Hard.
Right in the jaw.
"WHAT THE FUCK, JAY?!" he yelled, stumbling like I'd shattered his soul.
"I've been gone a month and this is how you greet me? After our great kiss?"
"Don't remind me," I snapped. "I might be tempted to punch you again."
He grinned.
"Careful. I might be tempted to kiss you again."
I blinked.
He smirked.
My heart did a backflip.
I hated him.
I hated that I didn't really hate him.
And I hated that his jaw still looked good after I tried to rearrange it.
"You have the audacity to kiss me after telling me you used me?" I yelled, voice shaking, heart on fire.
Something in his eyes shifted.
"I'll explain," he said, stepping closer. "At first… it was supposed to be easy. Make you fall. Break your heart."
My eyes burned.
"So it was true," I whispered.
He looked wrecked. "Most of it."
I froze.
"But then—damn it, Jay—I started falling. Hard. And it backfired. I loved you so much it hurt."
I blinked.
He looked like he meant it.
Like the plan turned into punishment.
Like loving me was the consequence.
And me?
I hated that my heart was listening.
"I had to protect you," he continued. "My family wanted my inheritance. The company. If I told you, you'd meddle. You always meddle."
He smirked through red eyes, tears falling like betrayal dressed in silk.
Before I even realized it, I wiped his tears.
Why?
WHY.
"I had to reveal the plan," he said. "I told myself it was for your protection. But I couldn't do it. I even came five times to visit you."
I froze.
"You what?"
"Five times."
"You animal. You gago. You—"
"Careful," he said. "The profanity list is growing."
"So now I can't even curse in peace?"
He smiled.
"Do you forgive me?" he asked.
I wanted to.
I really did.
But no.
This man needed to suffer.
At least a little.
"I don't know yet," I said. "Give me some time."
His eyes softened.
He leaned in.
Kissed me — soft, slow, like he was afraid I'd vanish mid-lip.
And I kissed back.
Because I'm weak.
And he's stupid.
And my heart is a traitor.
"No worries," he whispered. "I'll keep trying to earn your forgiveness. But don't forget the profanity rule. I owe you 450,450 kisses."
I blinked. "Where did the other 13 come from?"
He smirked. "The ones you cursed in your mind."
So now I can't even cuss internally?
Great.
Greet Jay.
Queen of chaos.
Victim of lip gloss warfare.
And apparently, the girl with 450,450 kisses pending.