Page 20 of Jayce

I flick open the knife I carry in my pocket and offer her the handle. She accepts it, slices through the tape like butter, closes it, and tries to hand it back to me.

I hold my hands up and step back.

She tilts her head to the side. “Did I do something wrong?”

"You always, always give back a knife exactly as they handed it to you. I gave it to you open, so you must give it back open.”

She rolls her eyes, still shoving it toward me closed. “You don’t really believe in superstitions, do you?”

“I respect superstitions.”

She doesn’t reopen the knife.

“It’s yours until you return it open.”

Shay huffs and slides it into the pocket of her shorts. “Fine. I’ve always wanted a pocketknife.”

Chapter 15

Shay

My heart froze at the wall of adventures waiting to begin.

I couldn’t bring myself to ask Jayce about the empty bookshelves lining the other walls. Upon closer inspection, dust covered the shelves, and books hadn’t disappeared from them before my arrival.

Boxes of books sit in my old bedroom at my parents’ house, looking for a home to lovingly display them in. My Agatha Christie and Nancy Drew collections would fill them with room to spare.

How is it possible? If only the perfect man for me could be my fate. I have to remind myself that a demigod like Jayce deserves a woman who will give him the children he’s always wanted.

“Have you asked him if he wants kids? Maybe he’s of the same mindset,” that nagging angel on my shoulder suggests. Then the devil reminds me, “He’s half bull. His nature demands he procreate.”

I need a stiff drink. Something stronger than the wine I usually enjoy.

“You might want to hire a housekeeper for all this dust,” I say, unsure of how to proceed with Jayce’s eyes watching my every move.

A look of shame passes across his face. My dumb mouth won’t shut up. “What? Bad idea.”

Jayce looks down and runs his foot against the cedar floors. He clears his throat.

“I obviously hit a nerve or something. Just tell me. I can take it.”

He inhales deeply. “My dates always cleaned up around here, trying to prove they were domestic material.”

My nostrils flare with jealousy. I have no business entertaining the green-eyed monster over the past. “I don’t have any domestic skills, and I have no intention of learning them. The only thing I can cook is eggs.” And my grilled cheese and tomato sandwich, but I only make that for Cill.

Jayce moves toward me. I take a step back to avoid contact. My back presses against the shelves.

He leans in. My retreat does nothing to deter his need for close proximity. His lips graze my ear. “I don’t want you to change anything about yourself for me.”

My heart races. I move sideways to get away. My arms tingle with the need to throw them around his neck and beg him to take me despite the physical pain it will cause my vagina.

“Can we take a raincheck on the show?”

He slinks back in disappointment. “Can I at least walk you home?”

I shake my head. “Please. Just let me go.” I race home without waiting for his answer.

I feel his eyes staring a hole in my retreating back as he watches me nearly run into Anjal’s house from his front porch.

---