Page 15 of Jace

My stomach flips. He’shere?

I scramble off the couch, smoothing my oversized sweater and pajama bottoms, suddenly hyper-aware of my messy hair and the fact that I’ve got nothing underneath my bottoms.

I glance around my tiny apartment—bookhelves stuffed with novels, a cozy throw blanket, a potted plant I keep forgetting to water.

It’s so… me, so different from his world of leather and chaos.

But what’s he doing here? Andwhy?

A soft knock pulls me to the door, and when I open it, there he is, leaning against the frame, all tattoos and danger.

Jace’s leather jacket is gone, leaving him in a black t-shirt that clings to his muscled chest, his dark hair mussed like he’s been running his hands through it. His eyes, those intense dark eyes, lock onto mine, and the air between us crackles.

“Jace,” I breathe, my voice shaky. “W-W-W-What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t stay away,” Jace says, his voice low, rough, like he’s been fighting some internal war. He steps inside, closing thedoor behind him, and the small space feels smaller with him in it, his presence overwhelming. “You okay? After tonight?”

I nod, but it’s a lie, and he sees right through it.

He steps closer, his hand lifting to brush a stray strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle but deliberate.

“You don’t have to be tough with me, boy,” Jace says, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that makes my knees weak. “You can be honest with me. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head.”

I swallow, my throat tight.

“It’s just… a lot,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “The clubhouse, Snake, you. It’s not my world, Jace. I don’t know how to do this.”

His thumb grazes my cheek, and I lean into it, helpless.

“You don’t have to know,” Jace says, his eyes intense, holding mine. “You just have to trust me. Can you do that?”

I want to.

God, I want to more thananything.

But the fear’s there, sharp and real, whispering about the club, the danger, the blood I know follows men like him.

“What if I can’t?” I ask, my voice breaking. “What if your world… what if it breaks me?”

Jace cups my face, his hands warm and steady, and pulls me closer, his forehead resting against mine.

“I won’t let it,” he says, fierce and certain. “You’re mine, Caleb. That means I protect you, no matter what. You hear me?”

His words hit me like a wave, washing away some of the fear.Mine. The way he says it, like it’s a vow, makes my heart ache.

I nod, my hands finding his chest, gripping his shirt.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I’m trying.”

“That’s my boy,” Jace murmurs, and then he kisses me, slow and deep, like he’s savoring every second.

It’s different from the clubhouse, softer but no less intense, and I melt into him, my body pressing against his.

His hands slide down my back, one settling on my hip, the other gliding over my hair, guiding me, controlling the pace. It’s intoxicating, the way he takes charge, and I feel that spark inside me flare, wanting more, wanting everything.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with hunger.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy, you know that?” Jace growls, his voice rough. “All sweet and shy, but you’ve got this fire I can’t get enough of.”

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