HEATED SILENCES

The house was too quiet. For a villa nestled in the Hollywood hills, it was supposed to exude glamour, maybe even a sense of serenity. But in this moment, it held its breath, every corner wrapped in a tension thick enough to taste.

Kole stood by the window, bathed in the golden spill of late afternoon sunlight. His iced coffee dripped slowly onto the hardwood floor. He didn't move.

Behind him, Jackson sat on the edge of the couch, arms crossed, jaw clenched. His phone rested on the coffee table, screen black.

They hadn't spoken since the ride back from the interview. Since Kole's little stunt.

"I don't regret it," Kole finally said, voice quiet.

Jackson didn't respond. Didn't even blink.

Kole turned. "If you're mad because I took the mic and played along-too bad. We're supposed to act like we're into each other, right? I just gave them what they wanted."

Still, Jackson said nothing. Just looked at him like he was trying to burn a hole through his chest.

Kole took a slow step forward. "Or is it that I looked like I was enjoying it too much?"

That made Jackson stand.

He crossed the space between them in three strides, towering over Kole. His hand flexed at his side, like he didn't trust it to behave.

"You flirted with him," Jackson said, voice low. Dangerous. "On camera. In front of the press. You let him touch you."

Kole's mouth curved. "You jealous, superstar?"

Jackson grabbed his wrist. Not hard. But firm enough to remind Kole who he was dealing with.

"This isn't a game, Kole."

Kole stared at where Jackson held him. "Could've fooled me."

Their faces were inches apart now. Kole's heart pounded. Jackson's breathing had gone shallow. There was heat in the room now-thick, angry, magnetic.

"Let go," Kole said.

"Make me."

Kole surged forward.

Not a kiss. Just a breath. Just enough to make Jackson's lips part. Just enough to drive them both insane.

Jackson let go like the touch had burned him. He took a step back, eyes wild.

Kole laughed, bitter and soft. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

He turned, walking toward the hallway. But before he disappeared, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Maybe next time, just say you're jealous. It'd be easier than acting like you hate me."

Jackson didn't answer.

But his silence spoke louder than anything he could've said.