Chapter 1: A Dangerous Reunion
Joel hadn’t expected his return to his hometown to come with such a loaded surprise. Three years away, building a career in a different state, had dulled the edges of old memories. But now, back with a remote job and a longing for connection, the last thing he anticipated was his parents setting up a matrimony profile for him. Even less expected was the match they found—Heizel, the stunning, sharp-witted beauty from his college days. Her profile picture hit him like a punch: those signature red lips, the golden-brown waves of hair glinting like fire, and a body that could stop traffic. She was sexier now, if that was even possible, her curves accentuated by a daring outfit that screamed confidence.
He’d told his parents it wouldn’t work. Not because he didn’t find her attractive—God, no—but because of history. Heizel had a messy situationship with his buddy Jovit back in the day. Marrying her felt like crossing an unspoken line. Yet, the families had already bonded over the match, and Heizel, apparently, was on board. So, here he was, sitting across from her at a quiet café, ready to let her down gently.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Joel,” Heizel said, her voice a sultry purr as she leaned forward, her red lipstick catching the light. “Am I that terrifying?”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, just... surprised. I didn’t think you’d agree to this. I mean, after everything.”
Her eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on her lips. “Everything? You mean Jovit? Or the fact that I’m not the shy little co-ed you remember?”
“Both, maybe,” he admitted, trying to keep his gaze from wandering down to the low cut of her top. “But mostly Jovit. It’s weird, right?”
Heizel leaned back, crossing her arms, which only emphasized her killer figure. “Let me lay it out for you, Joel. My family’s been breathing down my neck to get married for years. I’ve met a parade of losers who either want my dad’s money or think I’m just a pretty trophy to lock up at home. I’ve got dreams, damn it. I wanted a master’s degree, a career. Instead, I’ve been playing the dutiful daughter, quitting my job to parade around for grooms. I’m done with that. I said yes to this because I remember you. Kind, decent, not a creep. You’re my shot at freedom.”
Her words hit hard. Joel swallowed, caught between the weight of her situation and the heat radiating from her intense gaze. “Heizel, I get it. I do. But Jovit—”
“Jovit and I were nothing,” she cut in, her tone sharp as a blade. “We never even kissed, let alone anything more. And last I checked, he’s got a girlfriend. Call him if you’re so worried. I’m not here to play games, Joel. I’m here because I trust you. And yeah, maybe I’m laying on the charm a little thick, but can you blame me?” She flashed a wicked grin, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I’ve got a lot riding on this.”
He couldn’t help but laugh, though his mind was reeling. She was magnetic, pulling him in despite his reservations. “You’re not making this easy, you know.”
“Good,” she shot back, leaning closer, her perfume a dizzying mix of sweet and spice. “I don’t do easy. I fight for what I want. Question is, are you gonna fight with me, or against me?”
That night, after a quick call to Jovit—who gave his blessing with a casual ‘She’s a great girl, man, go for it’—Joel made his decision. He couldn’t leave Heizel to the mercy of her family’s pressure. And, if he was honest, the attraction was undeniable. Over the next few weeks, wedding plans unfolded alongside dates that felt less like formalities and more like foreplay. Every teasing quip from Heizel, every stolen kiss, chipped away at their resolve to wait until the wedding night. Their make-out sessions grew hungrier, hands wandering, breaths hitching.
Then came the day of the wedding dress fitting. Heizel emerged in a red sundress that hugged every curve, her lipstick a bold slash of crimson. “What do you think?” she asked, twirling with a smirk. “Too much for a fitting?”
Joel’s throat went dry. “You’re gonna kill me before we even get to the altar.”
She laughed, low and dangerous, stepping closer. “Maybe I don’t wanna wait that long. My place is empty right now. Wanna sneak away?”
His pulse raced. “Heizel, we said we’d wait—”
“Screw waiting,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. “I want you now. Don’t you?”
They barely made it through her front door before their control snapped, hands tearing at clothes, mouths crashing together in a desperate, heated clash. The red sundress was halfway off, hanging precariously as they stumbled toward her room, the air thick with raw, unspoken need.
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