Mila Wilson is quiet, anxious and a little bit of a mess. Panic attacks have ruled her life for as long as she can remember - but starting college is her chance to take control. Love? Not something she believes she's built for.
Then she meets Jace E...
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Jace's P.O.V.
Mila Wilson. What the hell did that girl do to me? I've been sitting with that question for a while now, and I still don't have a clear answer. All I know is, nothing's been the same since she showed up. It's like she walked into my life and flipped a switch I didn't even know existed.
Jace Evans doesn't date. Everyone knows that. I've said it a hundred times—hell, I believed it. But here I am, driving her home, not because I have to, but because I want to. Because the thought of her walking alone, of her not being near me, bothers me more than I'm comfortable admitting.
I glance to my right for just a second—she's staring out the window, hair a little messy, no makeup, oversized hoodie drowning her frame. Beautiful. Effortlessly. She doesn't even try, and still, she manages to mess me up more than any girl ever has. Keep your eyes on the road, Evans.
When I met her, I told her she wouldn't be able to resist me. I said it with that usual confidence—the one I've leaned on for years. What I didn't say, what I couldn't admit then, was that it was already too late for me. From the first moment, I was the one who couldn't stay away.
When I look at her, I see the good in the world. She comes with her problems, but who doesn't? She's a fighter, that's how I see her. There's something about Mila that cuts through all my bullshit. She doesn't play games. She says what she feels—even when it terrifies her—and that honesty? That's rare. That night at the party, when she stood her ground and told me she wasn't just another girl I could sleep with and forget... I've never respected someone more. She didn't even know it, but she set a line in the sand. And I knew I couldn't cross it—not if I wanted to keep her around. And I did. God, I did.
That night I brought her upstairs, I told her I didn't want to fuck her. That I just wanted to talk. Was it a lie? Maybe halfway. But when she looked at me like I was something she wasn't sure she could trust yet... I didn't want to ruin that. I wanted to earn it. And I'm glad I waited. I never wait. But with her, it was worth every second. She makes me feel like I can be better. Not perfect—not even close—but better than the guy I was. Maybe not the guy I'm afraid I still am.
Because truth is, I've done some shit. I'm not proud of most of it. Selling, fighting, pushing people away before they could leave first—that's been my whole life. That's all I've known. But then Mila came in like some kind of storm and suddenly I wanted different. She sees things in me I don't even see in myself. And I don't get it. I've got anger issues, trust issues... probably just issues, period. But she sticks. She stays. Even when I give her every reason to run.
That whole mess with Jessica? I hate that it hurt her. I hated myself for that more than I let on. Mila didn't just forgive me—she understood me. That kind of grace? I don't deserve it. But I'm not letting go of it either. Call me selfish, but I just can't. I want to learn, for her. And tonight—tonight changed something in me.
I've never waited that long to sleep with a girl. Not because I couldn't, but because I didn't think there was a reason to. I'd sleep with them, get bored, and move on. But Mila? That wasn't just sex. That was something else. It meant something. The way she looked at me, touched me arched her back... the way she trusted me? Shit. It shook me. I need to stop thinking about it, or I'm gonna have to pull this car over.
She didn't fake anything. I know because she told me—no one had ever made her come before. That admission? It hit me harder than it probably should've. Not because of ego, but because I mattered. I made her feel something she'd never felt before. And you bet I'm going to make sure it happens again. As many times as she'll let me.
I glance at her again. She hasn't noticed me looking. She's just humming to the music now, tapping her fingers on her thigh. How did I end up here? This isn't just a fling. It can't be. I'm too deep in now. Mila's the only girl who's ever made me think about more. About tomorrow. About something real. I want to know what makes her laugh. What keeps her up at night. I want to know all of it. I want to be the one she turns to when everything gets too loud. I want to protect her—even from herself, if I have to. The crazy part is, I don't even care if that makes me soft. If this is what being soft feels like, sign me the fuck up.
I reach over without thinking and place my hand on her thigh, needing to touch her somehow, just to remind myself she's real. Her hand instinctively covers mine, and just like that, the rest of the world fades out. I'm hers. Whether I planned for it or not, I am. Something tells me she has no idea just how far I'd go for her. And for the first time in years, that thought doesn't scare me. It gives me hope.
