Chapter 3 Enter Cole

The night air hummed with energy as the bass from the music inside vibrated through the pavement. Jade stood at the edge of the crowd, a half-full red cup of some neon-colored cocktail in her hand, her dark curls spilling over one shoulder as she scanned the backyard. The house belonged to Zara's cousin-someone she'd never met before-but that didn't matter. It was Saturday, and the only thing that mattered tonight was detachment. The music was loud, the drinks were strong, and the people were beautifully unfamiliar. Exactly what she needed.

She wore a black satin slip dress that clung to her figure like it had been sewn onto her skin. Her legs, smooth and toned, were framed by heels that added inches to her height and danger to her stride. Her makeup was flawless-sharp liner, smudged shadow, and lips painted in a deep, wicked plum. She looked like sin dressed in silk, and she knew it. She wore it like armor.

"Girl, you look like you're ready to ruin someone's life," Zara whispered, sidling up beside her with a mischievous grin, holding two more drinks. Jade smirked but said nothing. Words were for people who still believed in emotional connections.

The party throbbed with movement-people dancing, bodies grinding, conversations flowing over pulsing trap beats. Lights from inside spilled out through the glass doors, flickering with the DJ's setup, casting moving shadows across the grass. A group laughed loudly to their left, shots were being poured near the makeshift bar under the gazebo, and somewhere in the chaos, a guy was trying to do a backflip into the pool.

Jade sipped her drink, her eyes idly scanning again-and then she saw him.

He stood near the edge of the party, back against the railing, a cigarette dangling from his fingers and a bottle of something dark in the other hand. His posture was relaxed, casual even, but there was a tension around him, like he was barely tolerating the crowd, like he didn't belong in a setting where everyone was too loud, too eager, too much. He wasn't looking to be seen. He was trying to disappear.

But Jade saw him.

He was tall. Lean. Dark jeans, a fitted black T-shirt that clung to his frame like it'd been painted on, and boots that looked like they'd walked through something real. His jaw was sharp, his lips set in a line too calculated to be bored, and his eyes-when they briefly lifted to scan the crowd-were stormy grey and unreadable.

Zara followed her gaze. "Oh no," she said, dragging out the words, "don't even think about it."

"Why?" Jade asked, not taking her eyes off him.

"Because that's Zara's cousin's best friend's older brother. That man has been through shit and looks like he bites."

Jade's lips curved up slowly. "I like sharp edges."

Zara groaned. "No, you like emotional unavailability and daddy issues dressed in good tailoring. That man will ruin your peace."

Jade tilted her head. "Good."

She handed her drink to Zara, crossed the backyard with the kind of confidence that was bred in women who knew they were stunning and didn't care if it made people uncomfortable, and approached him.

He looked up, noticed her, and didn't flinch. Didn't smile. Didn't shift. Just watched.

"I was starting to think you were allergic to people," she said, stopping in front of him.

His mouth quirked, barely. "I might be."

"Lucky for you, I'm not people."

He let the silence stretch between them like a game, one he was very good at. Then, "You're not like the rest of them."

"That's the idea," she said, voice like smoke. "You got a name?"

"Cole."

Just that. No smile. No reaching for a handshake. No interest in small talk. Jade's interest sharpened.

"Well, Cole," she said, "are you always this fun at parties?"

He took a drag from his cigarette, exhaled slowly, then looked at her, really looked at her. "Depends who I'm talking to."

Jade felt something unfamiliar in her stomach-something almost dangerous. She'd spoken to many men since her breakup. Slept with a few. Played the game. But none of them had looked at her like that. Like they saw past the makeup, the heels, the curated disinterest. Like they saw the things she didn't show.

She stepped closer.

"You don't dance," she observed.

"Nope."

"You don't drink with the crowd."

"Nope."

"But you come to parties."

"Sometimes."

"Why?"

"Occasionally," he said, voice low, "someone interesting shows up."

His eyes didn't move from hers.

Jade's mouth went dry.

She hated the flutter in her stomach. Hated it because it felt like something, and she didn't do *something*. Not anymore. This was supposed to be about fun, about power, about walking away before anything rooted itself under her skin. But the way Cole stood, the way he *saw* her-it wasn't fun. It was intense. Dangerous.

She looked at him again, this time not with seduction but curiosity. "What's your deal?"

He arched a brow. "My deal?"

"You're clearly not here for the music, and you don't look like the kind of guy who's out here chasing attention."

He smirked. "Neither do you."

Touché.

There was something intoxicating about his stillness. He wasn't performing. He wasn't trying to be charming or cool or sexy. He just *was*, and that unnerved her more than she cared to admit.

"Come on," she said suddenly, grabbing his hand. His skin was rough, warm. "Let's get out of here."

He didn't move.

"Where to?"

She leaned in. "Anywhere that isn't surrounded by drunk kids and bad music."

He studied her. Not her body, not her face-*her*. As if weighing her words, her tone, the meaning behind the invitation. Then, finally, he stubbed out the cigarette on the wooden rail, took a last sip from his bottle, and nodded.

"Lead the way."

They ended up in the side driveway, the music a muffled thud behind them, moonlight washing over them in silvery brushstrokes. Jade leaned against the wall, arms crossed, suddenly unsure of what she wanted this to be. She didn't do conversations after eye contact. She did flirting. She did skin. She did goodbye-before-sunrise.

But Cole didn't move closer. Didn't try to touch her. He leaned against the opposite wall, eyes still on her, patient. Like he could wait all night if he had to.

"So," he said finally, "what's your deal?"

Jade laughed, caught off guard. "My deal?"

"You've got walls like barbed wire and that look in your eyes like you dare someone to get close."

She blinked.

"No one's asked me that before," she said honestly.

Cole just waited.

She looked down at her heels, then back at him. "I got tired of being disappointed. Decided it was easier to stop expecting anything."

"From people?"

"From love," she said, voice a little quieter than she meant.

Cole nodded like he understood. And Jade had the distinct, unsettling feeling that he *did*.

He didn't try to argue. Didn't say *not everyone's like that*. He just nodded.

"So now," she continued, "I do what I want, when I want, with whoever I want. No strings. No emotions. Just...fun."

Cole studied her for a long beat. "Is it fun?"

Jade's chest tightened, just for a second.

"I tell myself it is."

He didn't smile, didn't laugh. Just stood there, letting the weight of her words hang in the air between them.

And then, slowly, he crossed the distance. His steps were unhurried, deliberate. When he reached her, he didn't touch her. Just leaned in, so close she could feel the heat of his breath.

"You don't scare me, Jade."

Her breath caught.

He brushed a curl behind her ear, barely touching her skin, and pulled back.

"I'll see you around."

And with that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night like smoke.

Jade stood there, heart hammering, pulse flickering wildly in places it hadn't in months.

She didn't know what just happened.

But she knew one thing for sure.

Cole was dangerous.

And she wanted more.