Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 100: A New Side of Him

Chapter 100: A New Side of Him

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.

Jerica could feel the weight of every eye on her. A flush of heat climbed up her neck, not entirely out of embarrassment but from sheer frustration. She clenched her jaw, her stare shooting daggers at Jared as the others started clapping and cheering.

"Go on, Jerica!" someone teased.

"Don’t let him win!" another chimed in.

Reluctantly, Jerica pushed herself to her feet, throwing Jared one last withering look. He, of course, reclined casually in his seat, grinning like the Cheshire Cat who’d just cornered a particularly fun mouse.

By the time the bus finally reached the campsite parking area, Jerica was completely drained—not from the games but from Jared’s endless antics. Every time she tried to close her eyes and tune out the noise, he found some new, creative way to poke at her, like a child pulling pigtails in the schoolyard.

As she stepped off the bus, she didn’t bother hiding her annoyance. She shot him a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through the forest around them. "You’re insufferable," she muttered as he passed her.

Jared only chuckled, his laugh low and infuriatingly amused. "You love it," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

Her mouth fell open, but before she could fire back, he was already walking ahead, completely unbothered. Jerica stood there for a moment, her fists curling at her sides. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to strangle him, kiss him, or both.

At the campsite, the chaos shifted. Regina’s antics were in full swing. "I can’t carry my bags," she whined, fluttering her lashes like a damsel awaiting rescue.

Like moths to a flame, several men leapt to her aid. The scuffle over who would carry her luggage was almost comical, grown men jostling one another for the chance to prove themselves.

Jerica’s gaze naturally shifted to Jared, half-expecting him to join the fray. The bitterness from earlier still lingered, her mind replaying the moment he offered his tent to Regina. "Aren’t you joining them?" she asked, her tone clipped as she crossed her arms over her chest.

But Jared didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His response was wordless yet loaded with meaning. With a small, almost imperceptible smile, he walked past her, grabbed her trolley without hesitation, and strode toward the front of the group.

Jerica blinked, momentarily stunned. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t gloat or tease. He just did it. And the quiet gesture made her heart skip a beat.

Her awe was short-lived. As the group began the hike to the campsite, the reality of her luggage choice became glaringly obvious. The uneven trail was no place for a trolley. Its wheels caught on rocks and roots, jostling noisily with every step.

Jerica groaned, mentally berating herself as she trudged behind Jared. "Only idiots bring trolleys," she muttered under her breath.

Jared, ever in tune with her mutterings, glanced back over his shoulder. He said nothing but flashed her a knowing grin, the kind that said, I told you so, but I’m too polite to say it out loud.

Her glare returned in full force, but deep down, buried under layers of irritation, her heart warmed just a little. As infuriating as Jared was, he had carried her luggage without a single complaint. Maybe he wasn’t entirely insufferable. Just mostly.

She looked up to see Jared walking ahead, her trolley in hand. His steps were even, unbothered by the awkward shape of her luggage, and his pace was steady as he led the way up the incline.

"Why did you even bring that?" Lila asked, walking beside her with a knowing grin.

"I thought it was practical," Jerica muttered, huffing as she adjusted her sneakers. They weren’t very practical either. The soft soles did nothing against the rugged terrain of the hike. "Clearly, I was wrong."

Lila laughed, nudging her playfully. "At least someone is carrying it for you. Look at Jared up there. Does that man even break a sweat?"

Jerica didn’t reply, but her gaze lingered on Jared. His effortless demeanor only made her heart flutter. He’d taken her trolley without so much as a word, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You should thank him," Lila teased, smirking.

Jerica scoffed, trying to mask the slight blush creeping up her cheeks. "For what? Offering his tent to Regina earlier? Yeah, he’s a real hero."

Lila chuckled but didn’t press further.

As they trudged on, Jerica found herself regretting more than just her choice of luggage. She regretted coming at all. The trail was steep, her legs ached, and the noise from the group only grated on her nerves.

Up ahead, Jared stopped to wait for her, leaning casually against a tree with the trolley propped beside him.

"You’re slowing down," he remarked, his tone light but teasing.

"I’m regretting my life choices," she shot back.

Jared’s lips twitched into a small smile. "Then you’d better keep up. You wouldn’t want to miss the ’memorable bonding experience,’ would you?"

Jerica groaned, biting back the string of complaints bubbling in her chest as Jared picked up her trolley once again. Without a word, he continued up the trail, leaving her to trudge behind him. His nonchalant attitude was maddening, but the way he carried her luggage with such ease, as if it weighed nothing, chipped away at her irritation.

Her lips twitched despite herself. Maybe—just maybe—this trip wouldn’t be so bad. Then again, with him around, it was just as likely to be a complete disaster.

When they reached the campsite, the group scattered, each person busying themselves with pitching their tents. Jerica, however, stood awkwardly, hands on her hips, staring at the chaos around her. She didn’t even have

a tent, so pitching one wasn’t her problem. But she did have another, much more pressing issue.

Her bladder was full, and she needed to pee.

Jerica glanced around the campsite, her gaze falling on Jared. He was already busy, crouched down as he hammered a peg into the dirt with precision. His shirt clung to his back, damp from the trail, and every flex of his biceps as he worked seemed to draw the attention of everyone nearby.

Her chest tightened, a mix of annoyance and something she didn’t want to name flaring up. Married women, single women, women who probably hadn’t looked at a man twice in years—all of them were sneaking glances at her husband. Even the ones who’d earlier dismissed him as distant and aloof were now openly admiring him.

A pang of bitterness settled low in her stomach. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She had a more urgent mission.

Jerica approached him, her steps deliberately heavy to announce her presence. She noticed, with a smug sort of satisfaction, that as she got closer, the women who had been lingering scattered like startled birds. Good. Let them find someone else to ogle or, better yet, pitch their own tents. Jared wasn’t available—not for pitching tents or anything else.

"Jared," she began hesitantly, her voice low enough that only he could hear. "I need to pee. Where are the port-a-potties?"

Jared paused mid-swing, the hammer resting in his hand as he turned to look at her. His expression was unreadable for a moment, then his lips quirked into a faint, amused smile.

"There aren’t any port-a-potties," he said, his tone maddeningly casual. "You’ll have to... peruse the nature."

"What?" Jerica’s voice rose an octave, and she felt the heat rush to her face.

"You know," Jared continued, straight-faced but clearly enjoying her discomfort, "like the bears and lions. Tigers don’t use toilets, and they’re the strongest animals around. Why not follow their lead?"

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, all she could do was gape at him. He wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be serious.

"Jared!" she hissed, stomping her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. "I cannot pee in the open. I literally cannot. It...It won’t come out..."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and it sent an involuntary shiver up her spine.