Jerica's glare could have melted steel. "I wasn't playing." Her tone was sharp, a low warning for Jared to quit whatever game he was playing with her.
But Jared? Jared was impervious to warnings, especially hers. He leaned closer, his eyes twinkling with unrepentant amusement. "Aw, don't be shy," he teased, his voice dripping with mock encouragement. "I'll help if you get stuck."
The bus fell silent for a moment, the air buzzing with unspoken questions. Everyone was staring at the man they knew as the aloof, sharp-edged Jared Petrovski—the Siberian Beast—now utterly transformed. The air of quiet dominance and cold detachment he typically wore like a second skin had evaporated. In its place was someone lighter, warmer, mischievous even.
It was undeniable: this banter wasn't ordinary. It was personal, intimate in a way that gave everyone pause. If the rumors of their alleged "affair" hadn't already been swirling, this exchange would've started them on the spot.
