Page 19 of Jace

Quickly he curls into my side, wrapping me in his arms, nuzzling the side of my neck. I close my eyes and allow my body to accept his comfort.

I’ve wanted this, wished for it, and dreamed about it more times than I can count. But the reality of his embrace, the knowledge that I’m safely tucked in close to the very man I’ve been in love with for months is so much better.

“I’ve got you, babe,” he whispers near my ear. “I’m not going anywhere,” Jace doesn’t make promises, he never has. He’s mentioned more than once, the way he lived a lifetime of broken promises was like a never ending kick to the stomach, and he refuses to give that kind of disappointment to anyone else. “You can sleep baby,” his arms tighten around me. “I’ve got you,” he repeats and I feel myself slowly give in to the exhaustion I feel.

At some point in the night I wake and try to roll over but almost instantly a strong arm tightens around my body. As if I weighed nothing at all, Jace pulls me across the soft sheets, he grips my waist and throws his leg up over mine. I smile feeling him bury his nose into my hair and taking a deep breath as if he is breathing me in.

In that moment it’s almost like he needs me almost as much as I’ve needed him.

It’s all so surreal, but the most secure I have felt in so long.

Yet I’m afraid to allow myself to love it.

I’m afraid to want it, because with Jace and I, nothing has ever been solid.

He and I, from the start have been so up and down, nothing is ever for sure. Allowing myself to rely on the way I feel now could be the one thing that breaks me completely. Because if this all falls apart, and I’ve let myself need it, I’m the one left broken and I’m afraid of where that will leave me in the end.

Chapter Fourteen

Jace

“How is she?” Zac asks as I flip the French toast over, ignoring the need to be defensive. I have to remember his question is out of concern for a friend and not insinuation that I can’t take care of her.

“She’s still sleeping.”

“Did she sleep through the night?” He asks, like we are talking about an infant. “Normally she’s up four or five times. Flipping through channels, scrolling through her phone. Fuck one time she was making cookies at two in morning, it smelled like she was trying to burn the fucking apartment building down.”

“Wait,” I interrupt him, “so you spent the night with her?”

Zac is quiet for a few seconds before responding. “Yeah,” my jaw flexes as I grip the spatula a little tighter.

“You slept with her?”

“On the couch bro,” he assures me and my racing pulse begins to slow as the tension eases. “She stayed at my place a few times and I still slept on the couch. I told you it was never like that with Aurora, we’re friends. It’s never been more, never came close to being more.”

I flip the French toast again and nod though he can’t see me, it’s all I can manage at the moment. The knowledge that he’s been there for her when I should have been is still so hard to accept.

“After a while even when I wasn’t actually there, I could imagine what she was doing because it was always the same.” He continued. “She’d get all quiet when we were on the phone after she’d text me or called cause she couldn’t sleep. But when she got quiet, I knew it was because she was scrolling through photos.”

“What photos?” I move the last piece of toast to the plate.

“Take a look through her phone sometime,” it’s the only answer he gives.

I swear I hear a woman in the background but before I have the chance to bring attention to it, Zac is hurrying to end our call.

Wondering when he had time to meet up with anyone and then a thought hits me. Presley? He took her home last night. Or did he take her to his place instead?

“It smells really good in here,” turning around I find Aurora standing in the doorway, leaning against the opening. She pauses, displaying that she’s wearing one of my favorite t-shirts, the red material hitting her mid-thigh. For a moment I am awe struck, seeing her in my clothes does something to me, taking my breath away for a few seconds. I swallow past the lump that feels as though it has formed in my throat, only offering a nod. Fuck my chest feels so tight.

“Zac was right, you do cook.” She adds with a smile.

Walking closer, peeking over my shoulder to see what’s behind me. Her hair falls forward tickling my arm. “French toast,” she hums with appreciation.

This is the first time I’ve cooked for any woman besides Bree or Luna. It’s different, because I don’t look at Ror like a sister.

“Bacon is in the oven, and fruit is cut up in a bowl, in the fridge.” She leans back looking up at me with an arched brow. “What?”

“You cut up fruit?” The smile of her face hits me deep and I can’t keep myself from grinning ear to ear.

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