The two of us were races and wagers and dares, not this.

His lips brushed mine, and the world felt charged, brimming with anticipation and the thrill of the chase.

This time, when my hand reached for the edge, another hand grabbed mine. Jameson pulled me out of the water. “Don’t breathe,” he murmured.

“I’m here,” I told him softly. “I am right here with you, Jameson Hawthorne.” Stop running.

WEAR ME IF YOU DARE.

or if he was just trying to fight his demons, set aside a lifelong rivalry, and trust me.

And just like that, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne hung up the phone.

All I had were questions. It felt wrong that Jameson wasn’t here asking them with me.

And when the way he’d told me to stop rang in my mind, I thought about Jameson, who never stopped. About the person I was with Jameson.

Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. I ran like the ball gown wasn’t weighing me down, like I didn’t have a knife strapped to my thigh.

I wasn’t sure how to say this to make him believe it, so I put both my hands flat on his chest and stared into green eyes that I knew better than anyone else’s.

This was the way he and I were supposed to be: no running, no hiding, no recriminations, no regrets. Just us.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Heiress?” I stared at him, disbelief giving way to anger that bubbled up in me and exploded out. “What’s wrong with me? You’re the one who locked me in the world’s most bejeweled escape room!”

“You’re smiling,” I told him, disgruntled when the last one turned up nothing. “I like a challenge.” Jameson gave me a look that reminded me that I’d been a challenge for him.

“I don’t want to tear it,” I told Jameson. His green eyes met mine. “You won’t.”

I saw a jagged cut on the underside of his jaw and reached for his chin. “This looks bad.” “On the contrary, Heiress, bleeding is a devastatingly good look for me.”

I recognized the tone in his voice, knew it as well as I knew each of his scars.

“Let me do it,” Jameson said. “I can’t protect you from everything, Heiress, but I can protect you from this.”

Some kisses were soft and gentle—and some were like fire.

“It’s not worth the risk.” I was fairly certain Jameson Hawthorne had never said those words before in his life.