Bye-Bye Jerk, Hello Mr. Right



I froze.

Did he just... reverse-rizz me?

My cheeks went hot, and I realized too late that I'd totally walked into his trap. All this time, I'd pegged him as some clueless rookie, but nope-dude was playing in the major leagues.

Not bad.

I fought back a smirk, keeping my expression cool. "Don't flatter yourself."

I put down my bowl, breezed over to the couch, and turned on the TV.

Meanwhile, Xander was annoyingly unbothered. He cleaned the table-wiping off the soup I'd accidentally sprayed on him, washing the dishes, even tidying up the kitchen.

"Mind if Luse your bathroom?" he asked

"Knock yourself out," I said, keeping mo

But I couldn't shake his earlier comm

normal.

eyes glued to the screen.

It lingered, like a song stuck in my head, making it impossible to act

Maybe it was because part of me really had thought about him staying over.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Xander added, snapping me out of my spiral.

He stood there, cool as ever, like he was darin

me to twist his innocent comment into something inappropriate.

I noticed the dried soup in his hair and gave him a quick nod.

"Do you have any clothes I could change into?" he asked, pushing his luck.

I shut my eyes for a second, fighting the urge to snap, 'No, wear the soup.

Then he added, "Even old clothes are fine."

And boom. Subtext. Loud and clear. He didn't say Hayden's name, but we both knew who the "old clothes" belonged to.

I shot him a glare, but he didn't flinch. That maddening calm of his made me second-guess myself, like I was the one overreacting.

It's the worst-when someone's so composed, you can't even call them out without sounding ridiculous. And here I was, fully stuck in that trap. "Fine. I'll find something," I muttered.

As I dug through the closet, a wave of regret hit hard. These weren't just random hoodies or tees-they were Hayden's. Every thread had a memory stitched into it, and now I was supposed to just... hand them over?

I glanced back at Xander. A new thought hit, and I hated it: if he wore Hayden's clothes, would he look even more like him?

Was I losing it? One second, I was reminding myself that Xander wasn't Hayden, and the next, I was practically trying to recreate him.

I stood there, clutching Hayden's clothes, caught in my own head, when the doorbell rang.

1/2

Perfect timing-or maybe not.

Still holding the bundle, I checked the security cam, and my stomach sank.

Jace.

What was he doing here this late?This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

Before I could even think, he started knocking. Loudly. "Rea, open up. I need to talk to you," he called out, voice slurred with a definite drunk edge. He looked like he'd had more than just a couple of drinks.

Talking to him like this would be pointless. No way I was opening the door for someone who clearly wasn't thinking straight.

But then he said something that made me freeze.

"I just want to see if you're hurt. I heard you got hit by a car."

My heart skipped.

How did he know about that?

The only person knew it was Xander. I hadn't even mentioned it to Lena yet.

Unless... Jace was somehow behind it? The thought hit me out of nowhere, but his timing and how much he knew -it was too weird to ignore.

I cracked the door open, and the smell of booze hit me like a wall.

“Jace,” I said, cutting straight to it. "Who told you that?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed my arm and turned me around. “Did you get hurt anywhere?"