Fake Dating Conditions

CHAPTER 5

Jett's POV

I held her gaze, anger burning in her eyes. One wrong word and she would cut me down.

“Did you just say Jason?” My voice dropped, dangerous. “What has he been telling you?” I asked, pinning her lightly against the wall.

“Leave me alone,” she spat. “You don't deserve to know anything. Answer my question first.” She struggled to get out of my grip, her breath coming out ragged.

I released her with a sigh. I knew I had to keep the truth from her. Not yet.

“Fine. I knew my dad was planning to get married. But I had no idea that it was actually going to be your mom. You shouldn't blame everything on me.” Saying that, my hands sank back into my pockets.

“Yeah, I shouldn't,” she muttered, but her voice trembled.

She tried to walk away, but I held her hands and pulled her into my arms.

If I hadn't made sure my plan went well, Dad would have probably found out about everything. No one should know anything. Not Kim. Not my father or that motherfucker.

Jason probably whispered something to poison her against me. I had no intention of messing things up; all I wanted was to give my little pet a taste of something she was clearly craving.

“You can't change anything now, Kim,” I said, lowering my voice. “Nothing can change. Can’t we just… move on?”

Her eyes flashed. “You knew. And you kissed me. Is that how you bag other girls in college? I'm not one of them, Jett, I'm not.”

Damn it! She's too graceful for her own good.

“Fine,” I snapped. “You want to walk out there and denounce what we are having here, which you clearly are trying so hard to deny… fine! Go ahead. Do it. It wouldn't be my problem anymore if everyone kept sucking at you.” My chest tightened, the anger within me fighting something deeper. “Jesus, Kimberly. God knows what Jason has been telling you. And you? You just want to ruin it all.”

“You could have said something earlier about our parents getting married.” She countered, her voice low.

I shook my head, bitter. “I don't know how to convince him not to marry the woman he chose to stay with for two weeks, even at the expense of missing his son's birthday. You think I ever had a say in that? It was never my choice to make.”

Her voice softened, but her words cut sharper than ever. “Well, good thing you know that it all can’t work now. We have to choose.”

“Which is?” I asked, keeping my voice calm, though every nerve was urging me to hold her in my arms.

“Say that we are step-siblings and shut down the damn news of me dating a Travolta brother. Now I can't even have a perfect life.”

“So… does that mean we’re really going to be step-siblings?” I asked, pretending to be surprised.

She exhaled sharply, like the words physically hurt her. “Yeah. Which means we have to reannounce that we broke up.”

“We can’t do that,” I replied quickly. “Not until I figure out who leaked those pictures. If we suddenly announce a breakup and people find out we’re step-siblings, it’s going to blow up even worse.”

She blinked, and her shoulders slumped, clearly exhausted. I could see the frustration in her eyes, the way her breathing slowed like she was fighting to keep herself together.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But if we’re going to fake-date, there have to be rules.”

I raised a brow. “Rules?”

“Yes. Rules.” She looked me straight in the eye. “No sudden kisses. No touching. And no weird staring—like what you’re doing right now.”

I smirked. “That’s a rule?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “No feelings, no games. We’re step-siblings now. The kiss never happened, and it won't happen again.”

“I can’t,” I said simply.

She froze. “What?”

“I can’t forget the kiss,” I repeated, my voice dropping this time.

She looked away, her jaw tightened. “You'd better forget about it, Jett. Before everything gets messier than it already is.”

“I’ll try.” I smiled faintly, though the idea roaming my thoughts was far from innocent.

I had no intention of forgetting any of it. There was still one more thing to do: teach a worthless being a lesson.

“I have rules too,” I added. “You have to attend every hockey game and cheer for me—not for Jason.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“I'm serious. You'll be moving in soon anyway. Better get used to having me around. And that means no private conversations with Jason.” I added.

“You're ridiculous,” she muttered, adjusting her dress with irritation.

Maybe I was. But sooner or later, she'd be in my arms again, removing those dresses. Taking it easy on her was never my plan from the beginning, but I had to be careful. I couldn't risk letting her slip out of my hands on my watch.

We walked back to class holding hands. She tried to act like it was normal, but her twitching fingers in my hand told a completely different story, like her body wasn’t on board with her brain.

The moment we entered, Jason’s eyes locked on us. Murmurs and whispers erupted across the class. I gave Kim a bright, deliberate smile, and the whispers quietened as they got to mind their own business. Except for Jason, of course, his glare lingered.

After class, the driver showed up, waiting by the sleek black SUV as always.

Jason slid into the car first, and I took one more glance at Kimberly, passing a blow kiss just as the driver spoke. “Mr. Travolta said Miss Kimberly should come along with us.”

I glanced at her. “Well, well. Looks like you're riding with us.”

Her eyes widened as she protested. “I'm not supposed to move in yet.”

“He ordered that I should make sure you come with us,” the driver insisted.

With an eye roll and a muttered complaint under her breath, she followed us in.

The ride home was quiet and tense. She stared out the window while I stared at her, my thoughts darkening, thinking about one thing I had tried so hard to keep.

I had one more thing to do—kill Chris. It had to be convincing enough, like someone had gone missing. No one messes with my girl and gets away with it. Guess following Kim's schedule and her movements did pay off.

By the time the gates swung open, I had already decided—Chris wouldn’t make it to the next English class, and my plans were already set in motion for that. I smiled to myself as I watched the doors of our house open.

Inside, Dad sat beside Melanie, his hands resting over hers. She looked far younger than I had expected. No wonder Kimberly had caught my eye the moment I saw her.

The table was already set, dressed for a full five-course meal, with wine glasses and most of the things we haven't had in months now. Dad went his way to impress his new wife's daughter. Typical.

I could tell the second Kimberly saw all that, something within her shifted—she wasn’t ready for this.

“Keep your cool,” I whispered to her, brushing her hand lightly under the table.

She didn’t pull away. Jason circled the table before joining in, his eyes darting from her to me as if he had swallowed something sour. Great.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, my voice clipped.

He leaned in, keeping his tone low so the others wouldn’t hear. “Are you really dating her? You do know that she’s going to be our sister, right?”

“You never cared what I did,” I shot back, meeting his eyes. “Why now?”

He gave me that arrogant smirk. “Just saying. Don’t screw this up for the family. The last thing we need is a scandal—or a bastard son—dragging this family's name through the mud.”

I leaned closer, refusing to back down. “Funny. I see that your hatred hasn't died down after giving you the pass as the best hockey player, uh?”

His eyes flickered, but he recovered quickly. “Just keep it from Dad.” He patted my shoulder like he had scored a victory, then walked away.

Bastard?

I scoffed, my mind drifting back to all the things I had to sacrifice for Jason—things he never even noticed. I wasn't sure what he was planning this time, but I hoped Kim wasn't a part of it… cause I definitely wasn’t going to let her slip away this time.

We all sat down around the table—Kimberly, my dad, Melanie, Jason, and me.

I kept sneaking glances at Kim, who sat across the table. She was holding it together, barely, picking at her food and avoiding eye contact.

Dad clinked his glass. “So, Kimberly,” he said casually, “do you have a boyfriend?”