Page 150 of Dark and Dangerous

“Bullshit,” he spits. “You’ve had no formal training, and until six months ago, you’ve never worked in a professional kitchen before. Deep frying frozen shit at the rink doesn’t count. You learned everything on your own, with no guidance besides videos, and then you went on and built your own social following, all from a busted ass kitchen while taking care of my grandpa. Thatishard. And thatisa big deal. And promise me, as soon as finals are done, you’ll let me celebrate you.”

I pout up at him, my heart warming with his words. “It is kind of baller behavior.”

He chuckles, grabs my ass. “Baddiebehavior.”

“Deal,” I tell him, picking up a pan and holding it to my chest. “I wish I could use them tonight.”

“Why can’t you?”

My excitement turns to panic. “Your awards night…”

Brow scrunched, he murmurs, “That’stonight?”

“Jace!”

“I’mkidding.” He’s not. The boy’s favored to get MVP in only his second season, and he couldn’t care less. It’s so typical of Jace, but it’s also one of the many, many reasons I love him.

I kiss the pan, set it carefully on the stovetop. “I’ll be with you soon, my precious,” I whisper lovingly, and Jace chuckles at that. “I love them.” Pushing up to my toes, I press my mouth to his. “And I love you. So much.” I fall back on my heels, then tug on his shirt, dragging him out of the kitchen. “We should get in the shower.”

“We?”

“Uh-huh.”

Jace sits on the edge of the bed, dressed in a crisp white shirt and deep emerald-green suit pants, the matching jacket laid out on the mattressbeside him. There’s product in his hair, though I’m sure it’ll be useless by the time we get to the event. He looks incredible. But I’d feel the same if he was in black basketball shorts and a wrinkled shirt.

His eyes meet mine in the reflection of my dresser mirror as he watches me apply the finishing touches to my face. I’d opted for a simple black dress that touches the floor but has a slit up one side. We rarely get dressed up like this, and we don’t usually enjoy these types of events, preferring instead to stay home and test out recipes or play video games, but tonight is an exception.

“You’re wearing that perfume,” Jace states.

I crack a smile. “Sure am.”

“We’re coming straight home after, right?”

“We’ll see.”

I pull out my ruby-red lipstick and apply it carefully. Jace watches my every move, as if in a trance, and I don’t know what it is about me sitting here doing my skincare routine or putting on makeup that always seems to hold him captive.

Through the mirror’s reflection, I watch as Jace spins the ring on his finger, the ruby-red stone a contrast to the deep green fabric of his pants. He still wears the ring I gave him, just like I wear his. The difference is that far more people know what his symbolizes.

Jace’s first game as a Red Raider came earlier than we expected, only four games into his first season. When he called to tell me, I lost my mind. So did everyone else in Rowville. Not a single person wanted to miss out on the hometown hero’s dreams come true, and they all rushed to get tickets. Lana booked four buses to take us all to Lubbock. Somehow, news got around, and within twenty-four hours, a crew from ESPN set themselves up at the rink. Honestly, I was afraid they would dig deep into Jace’s past and ask questions about the tragic loss of his parents, and they did. But the town of Rowville protected him in ways I’d never seen before. People who had watched Jace grow from a child to a man spoke of what it was like to witness a miracle in the making. They spoke of how proud they were of him, of how ecstatic they were to see him achieve the impossible, but they never—not once—allowedJace’s story of tragedy to overshadow his ability to overcome it all and become the man he is today.

The people of Rowville showed up for Jace’s debut game, taking up an entire section of the arena. We were the loudest there, the most passionate fans you’ll ever meet. It was the first time in almost a decade that Marty had watched his grandson play, and the pride in his eyes, the pure joy in his smile, waseverything. And this was all before the players had even walked out.

Swear, you couldn’t even hear the announcer speak when Jace was called up, and I could barely see through my tears. But I saw enough. I saw on the big screen how the cameras panned from us in the crowd to Jace on the floor, over and over, until it stayed on Jace sitting on the bench minutes before the first whistle.

Wearing my brother’s number, on a team that Harley once committed to, Jace removed the ring on his finger and tied it to his shoelaces. And then he looked into the camera, like he was looking directly at me, as if to say, “Harley’s here. And he’s about to live out his dream.”

My dad felt it too, because he held me to him, his broad chest hiding my cries.

Ever since, Jace has continued to carry Harley’s memory, his legacy, whenever he steps out on the court.

“Is that your dad?” Jace asks when we enter the hotel where the awards night is taking place. “And Jonah?”

I smile. “You think I was going to let you fly under the radar forthis?”

It’s not just Dad and Jonah here, though. I invited everyone who loves Jace almost as much as I do. Dad and his girlfriend, Jen—Levi’s mom. They started speaking more often after I spent a few days at Levi’s house back when I was going through it. I guess one thing led to another, and they soon started dating. When I left Rowville to movehere, Dad left too, back to Dallas and in with Jen. I’ve never seen my dad happier. Levi’s here too, and because of our parents’ relationship, we’ve been able to spend more time together. Of course, Levi and Jace became easy friends, connecting through basketball andLegend of Zelda. Levi had always been like a brother to me, and if what my dad told me in secret a few weeks ago is anything to go by, soon we’ll be stepsiblings. I can’t wait. Literally. I might explode if he doesn’t ask Jen soon.

I pull back while Jace greets them, then Jonah and Sammy—who are apparentlyontoday, a contrast to last week, when they wereoff.It’s been two years of this, and I think even they don’t know what they truly want. Jace greets Jeannie next, then of course, Jonah’s parents, Connie and Eric, and his two younger sisters. Then Lana and even Reyna. Yes, Reyna’s still stunning, but no, I’m no longer jealous of her, because in Jace’s eyes, I am—in his words, “so incredibly beautiful, and that beauty is intimidating.”

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