Chapter 3 CIF Agreement - TERMS OF ATTRACTION

Remy stared at him, the silence stretching.

For a moment, he was certain he'd misheard.

"What… did you just say?" he asked, his voice barely over a whisper.

Jaxon didn't look away. "You heard me."

The air inside the car felt too tight, too warm—like it was closing in on him.

Remy let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. "This isn't funny, Jaxon."

"I'm not joking," Jaxon stated calmly.

And that was the problem.

Because Jaxon Thorne didn't look like he was joking.

He looked calm.

Certain.

Like he'd already decided how this would end.

Remy shifted uncomfortably in the seat, his hands forming fists on his lap.

He had promised himself never to go down memory lane, but at that point, it was inevitable.

"You have to be joking… You have to be." He bit his lip, recalling his vulnerable, laid-back self standing in front of Jaxon in a locker room, wearing his feelings on his sleeve… only to be rejected.

And brutally so.

"I am not joking, Remy. I need you to be my boyfriend... urgently—"

"How can this be possible?" Remy's amber eyes flew up, searching Jaxon's blue ones.

"You... I said the same words to you. You rejected me. Why do you want me now?" He hesitated. "You made it very clear four years ago that I wasn't even worth considering. I'm still me, Jaxon; what changed?" he questioned, hungry for a clear picture.

Remy already had more than enough on his plate; he did not need extra drama that would break whatever was left of his soul.

He couldn't stand a second humiliation.

Jaxon slowly arched a brow at Remy, watching him for a split second before he spoke.

"Nothing changed, Remy," Jaxon murmured. "I just need you as my fake boyfriend," he said.

Remy went still.

That even hurt deeper.

Not good enough for real, but good enough for a lie.

"Why?" Remy asked, gazing out of the window through the tinted glass.

"I'll answer whatever questions you have. For now, all you need to know is that I'm in a scandal right now. You beside me..." He glanced at Remy, his eyes dark.

"It gives my PR team a positive narrative to push out, and I don't lose sponsors. I already helped you, Remy; help me," Jaxon stated, his voice detached even though he wanted to beg to show Remy how urgent his case was.

Remy went quiet, trying to put everything together.

He understood what Jaxon wanted.

It was a harmless request... if only it weren't Jaxon.

"Eight months," Jaxon's voice cut through.

"Publicly, we're inseparable." He glanced at Remy, his fingers clutching the steering wheel.

Remy's jaw tightened. "And privately?"

"That's up to you," Jaxon murmured.

A pause.

"Whatever you do off-camera is up to you... not my business," Jaxon clarified.

Remy was about to speak when Jaxon's phone rang.

"Harper," Jaxon said as he answered his phone, pressing his head against the headrest and closing his eyes.

"We're having dinner tonight. Are you representing or am I signing you out?" A stern voice echoed from the speaker.

Jaxon exhaled, slowly turning his head to find Remy staring at him.

He could see the indecisiveness in Remy's eyes, but he was really not in the mood to take his time convincing anyone.

He didn't look away as he answered, "I'll be there, Harper," he said.

"Good."

The call ended and Jaxon started his car.

"We need to get you changed. You look like you survived an apocalypse," he said, pulling away from the hospital.

Remy blinked, looking exasperated. "I never gave an answer," he whispered.

The car abruptly stopped and Jaxon turned to Remy, looking impatient but controlled.

"Well then?" he asked, his thumb tapping the steering wheel.

Remy closed his eyes.

This wasn't love.

It wasn't even trust.

It was survival.

"…Fine."

When he opened his eyes again, Jaxon was already watching him.

"But this doesn't mean anything," Remy added quickly.

Jaxon's gaze didn't waver.

"Of course," he said quietly.

Remy sighed. "This has to be official. Just so we know the terms," he said quietly.

He had to help Jaxon... it was only fair.

After what Jaxon had done, Remy literally owed him his mother's life; pretending to be something closer than a friend was a fair payment.

Jaxon's jaw flexed very slightly. "Sure."

He already had a contract waiting in his home; all that was missing was Remy's signature.

After a brief stop at a clothing store, they made a stop at Jaxon's condo where he retrieved the contract for Remy.

"Here," Jaxon placed the document on Remy's lap as he entered the car and fastened his seat belt.

Remy had chosen something moderate... something in his style.

A brown sweater and black pants; he would blend perfectly with the crowd.

Pulling his sleeve away from his palm, he touched the document, his heart thudding loudly as he stared at the 'CONFIDENTIAL INTIMATE FRIEND AGREEMENT (CIF).'

This was beginning to look real; he was actually agreeing to this!

"Here." Jaxon placed a pen on top of the document and drove the car away.

"We'll be arriving at the Bruins' family dinner in five. I'd appreciate it if you signed it before then," Jaxon said, his voice low.

With a determined look, Remy flipped through the three-page document, skimming thoroughly.

Honestly, it all seemed simple.

Just like Jaxon had said earlier: intimate public appearances with no definite label. Separate private lives.

Remy picked up the pen, hesitating.

The car slowed at the traffic lights and he felt it—Jaxon's gaze. Steady, watching, reading him closely.

Slowly sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at the document, he eventually let out a soft sigh and signed it.

"There. Signed," Remy said. Without lifting his head, he held out the signed contract to Jaxon.

"Just make it good enough that they question what we are," Jaxon reminded him in a detached tone, taking the document from Remy.

Remy turned his face to the window, not saying a word.

He watched the city lights in a blur as they sped toward the venue.

Everything was happening so fast and was so unpredictable. None of it made sense.

Gradually, their car drove toward a secluded estate and onto a smooth path, leading them up to a wide-open gate with glamorous lights shining from the tall, fancy building inside the compound.

Remy's breath hitched the moment he realized they'd arrived. Surrounding the entrance of the building were reporters.

The moment they spotted Jaxon's car, their lights and lenses steered toward it like a single, hungry eye.

He stiffened.

He was used to staying behind the camera... not in front of it.

"Remy," Jaxon called quietly as he pulled the car to a stop by the side of the house.

Remy inhaled shakily, turning to face Jaxon's calm face.

"They're a lot," Remy murmured.

Jaxon nodded. "I've got you, Remy. ... follow my lead. Never give us a label," he whispered and unlocked the doors.

"Stay," Jaxon said and got out of the car, calmly striding over to Remy's door.

Gently, he pulled the door open and offered Remy his hand.

Almost instantly, the reporters closed in on them.

"Mr. Thorne, who was the lady with you at the bar?" a voice asked from behind a camera.

"Is she the one inside the car?" another questioned.

"Mr. Thorne, are you really that loose kind of man?"

Their questions landed heavily on Jaxon, but he stood tall, his eyes only focused on the trembling man inside his car.

"I've got you, Remy. Take my hand... please," he whispered.

He couldn't afford a nervous partner tonight. He needed Remy to be stable to sell the positive image he was aiming for, and first impressions mattered.

Remy shuddered, forcing himself to focus on Jaxon.

'I can do this,' he said to himself. Very slowly, he lifted his hand and placed it in Jaxon's bigger one.

Almost instantly, Jaxon's warm hand clasped around his, grounding him.

With a nod, Jaxon helped Remy out of the car, his arm instantly finding Remy’s lower back.

"Mr. Thorne, who is your date?!"

"Mr. Thorne, what about the girl in the picture?"

"Who is he, Mr. Thorne?!"

Questions and flashes of camera lights threatened to blind them, especially Remy.

He felt like running back into the car, but Jaxon's hand on his waist was his anchor, keeping him up, grounding him... guiding him.

"Good... just keep walking," Jaxon leaned down and whispered into Remy's ear, causing Remy to visibly tense in his arms.

"Oh my god! Is this what we think it is, Mr. Thorne?!" the first reporter asked enthusiastically.

And just like that, the idea was planted.

Two people who shouldn't trust each other… forced to stay close.

Whether this would lead to a disaster or a resolution... they had eight months to find out.