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Jason studies my face when he admits, “His name was Andrew Kessler.”
I purse my lips in thought. “Is that name supposed to mean anything?”
“He was the mayor of King City. And he was running for governor before he was arrested.”
A strangled gasp escapes me. “How did I not know that? How does no one harass you about it like they do with my mom being Florence?”
Jason shrugs, and his other hand lands on my waist.
Now that both his large hands are on me, it’s almost impossible to focus, and I can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose to distract me or not.
“I’ve lived here my whole life; I’m old news. You’re the shiny new toy in town.”
I playfully tug the collar of his shirt. “Is that what I am to you? A shiny new toy?”
Jason’s smile shows off his perfect teeth and transforms his face so lethally, it should be a crime to look that handsome without even trying. “Please, I’ll never get bored of you.”
“That wasn’t a no—” My own squeal cuts me off when Jason suddenly tightens his grip on my waist and throws me onto the bed, quickly shifting us and pinning me under him.
His eyes are lit up mischievously, and his lips graze mine when he whispers, “It was a stupid question.”
My heart picks up speed. His body is practically flush with mine so I can feel him everywhere, and all I want to do is lift my head and close that minuscule distance between his lips and mine and do what I’ve wanted to do all day—kiss him.
He moves to put me out of my misery by slowly bringing his lips to mine, and my eyelids flutter closed.
Before our lips really properly touch, a voice pours ice-cold water down my spine, shocking us apart.
“Natalia sent me up here to remind you that there should be no ‘hanky-panky.’ Her words, not mine,” Jackson says from his spot in the doorway, where he’s averted his gaze and blocked his peripheral vision with his hand. “But if there is, she said she put condoms in the bedside drawer, but I’m right next door so try to keep the moaning dow—”
Jason silences him by lobbing a decorative pillow at his head, and Jackson ducks into the hallway, his delighted cackling following his retreat.
Beside me now, Jason releases a disgruntled breath before saying, “Sorry about him.”
I turn on my side to face him, disappointed we were interrupted but amused by the brothers nonetheless. “You apologize for him a lot.”
“He does things that deserve being apologized for a lot,” he states seriously but with a hint of affection.
“I think he’s funny.”
“Maybe funny-looking,” he mumbles.
I bite back a smile. “You know you’re identical twins, right?”
His brow furrows adorably. “I’m way better-looking than he is, and that fact won’t change no matter how many times he alters his contact name in my phone.”
We erupt into laughter, and peaceful warmth settles over me. Here we are, talking about absolutely nothing substantial and being silly, and I feel so happy and content.
I could lie here talking about nothing with Jason forever.
When we calm down a bit, I say, “So, we both have infamous parents from King City, huh? Florence and Andrew.”
He tugs on a strand of my hair. “We have a lot more in common than you’d think.”
“Yeah, but your dad tried tokillyou. And here I am complaining aboutmyfather.”
“We’re both allowed to have shitty fathers, it’s not a competition.”
“You might win if it were.”
