Page 108 of Enemies with Benefits
I smiled, knowing that if I continued, I was going to set the whole thing on fire and have to deal with the mess. "But hell, there's the fact that I'm the only one who finally got to make you understand that you like guys. And shit, this might be tooting my own horn here, but I bet I managed to see a whole lot of different things that make you tick...or get hard for that matter. How many of your other partners not only let you be that rough with them, but liked it?"
"I—"
"Don't answer that in its entirety, please, there are some things I don't want to learn about my sister."
"Gross."
"Exactly. And how many people have seen that on top of what happened earlier this week? You were out of your head, not the person you want to pretend you are, and I didn't bat an eye, I didn't hesitate, and I still don't think less of you. Shit, I thinkbetter of you for it. Or the fact that I know you're desperate to be a good dad, even before you decided you were going to make a go of being one. Or the fact that you have a hard time understanding how my family operates, but you want to be a part of it so badly, even though you'll deny, deny, deny."
His eyes flashed, and I knew I’d come back to the very thing that had pissed him off only a little while ago. “Fuck you, Mason. Just because I've had my dick in you doesn't mean you know a fucking thing about me!"
"I certainly know a lot more than most people who’ve met you," I said with a snort and felt the pang of regret that I hadn't made myself another cocktail before he'd come wandering out looking for a fight. Hell, even the bottle would have worked; the burn would have gone nicely with the bitterness in my mouth. "But that's what gets to you in the end, isn't it? The fact that I do know you. Well, that pisses you off, because of all people to know you that well, why did it have to be Mason fucking Beckett, right? But what really gets to you, what sticks in your craw and freaks you right out, is that I'm the one who takes it in stride, I roll with it and accept it. Sure, I give you hell for some of the crap you do, but here we are, here you are, as you are, and I'm dealing just fine."
"What does..." he trailed off, but I didn't need him to think too hard, I'd seen the twitch on his face, his facial muscles giving away his thoughts before he even knew what they were. I had made my point, and just as I’d said, I knew him quite well. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched his features slowly screw up, and I could see the tension in his shoulders. There was a lot of pressure building up inside him, and its explosion was as imminent as it was bound to be spectacular.
I blinked when his expression closed off, locking out all but a glint in his eyes that I didn't recognize. "You don't know me.You always act like you have all the answers, but you don't. Quit acting like you do."
"If you want to pretend everything is just the way you want it, then be my guest. But unlike everyone else, I'm officially over catering to your delusions and fantasies. Especially since half of them lately seem to involve what I am or am not doing or being like. Just know that if you're alone after all is said and done, then it was your choice, not anyone else's."
His eyes blazed, and I could finally see under the anger to the fear and the pain. It was bright enough for me to feel a lot more than a twinge of regret for digging in and dragging out the thing that, at the core of everything, was who he was, what drove him. It was his fear of being alone, and even though he did everything he could to keep people from getting close, he was always deathly afraid of truly being alone.
"You're done?” he asked softly, turning his back to me. "No, I'm done."
A jolt shot through me as I watched him, suddenly unable to move as he drifted into my apartment. I didn't need to hear the soft sounds of rummaging to know he was gathering what few things he’d brought with him, including the jingle of keys. My chest tightened as he came back into view, pulling on his over shirt, holding his keys in one hand and his phone in the other.
"Wow," I said softly, turning to look at him and briefly considering the idea of standing up but staying right where I was. I had known I was going to cross a line, but this was...something else. It was unsettling, and not just because he hadn't lost his shit, but because there was a hard look in his eye that I’dneverseen before. I couldn't even say that it was a product of him having made a decision, because instead it felt like...well, like something had locked up inside him, the shutters had come down, and every window and door was locked and boarded.
Well, I guess I hadn't set fire to everything, I’d activated Fort Knox.
"I'll see you," he said, his eyes going to his phone and staring for a moment before tapping it, and I watched as it lit up. His face, cast in the light of the phone, twitched again, and I could have sworn I saw his stony expression threaten to crack right down the middle. Unless whoever had messaged him had sent him a novel, he stared at his phone for far too long. "Yes. I'll see you."
"Jace," I began, an alarm bell going off in my head that had nothing to do with his attitude toward me and everything to do with whatever hadjusthappened. It wasn't like he had said or done anything to give me the idea that something else had happened, but every intuitive voice in my head screamed that, yes, something had just happened, and he needed?—
"No," he said, turning to walk off. "I'm leaving. And since you seem to know me so well, maybe you can figure out how serious I am, and what I'm serious about, without me needing to say it."
I didn't, but I couldn't bring myself to confirm it either, the words catching in my throat. In fact, nothing in me seemed to want to work, down to the muscles in my legs. I could only watch as Jace kept walking, the door soft as it closed behind him. For a moment, I could picture him marching down the hallway, his shoulders hunched...and then I heard his voice, distant and deep, too far away to detect the tone.
Something was wrong, and not just a normal, everyday, slightly dramatic kind of wrong either. Yes, as surprising as it had been to see him completely shut down and lock everything out and everything else in, that at least made some sense. Butsomethinghad cracked that stony mask, but every instinct in me said it shouldn't have slipped for even a second, not for anything. Nothing short of something serious, the life-altering, world-shattering kind.
I twisted to lean over the balcony, watching as he came out onto the street. He was speaking too quietly for me to hear, and his back was to me as he walked toward the corner, so I couldn't make out his expression. What I could make out was the hunch of his shoulders and the heaviness to the way his head hung forward, phone pressed to his ear. His pace was quick, and though I couldn't prove it, I would swear he was trying to keep himself from bolting.
Christ, I had demolished whatever we had tentatively built between us just seconds before he got some sort of news. My mind flashed over the possibilities, hopping up to grab my phone from just inside my balcony doors, where it sat on its charger. There were notifications and texts, but none stood out as anything that told me what might have happened.
If it was something with Micah or Moira, I would have been called before Jace, especially if it had been Moira. No matter how furious he was, no matter how done he was with me, I didn't seriously consider that Jace wouldn't tell me. That only left two people in his life who were important to him. One was currently standing, listening to the sound of Jace's truck go down the street with the same haste that he had refused to let his feet move at, and the other?—
Shit.
I slid open my phone and tapped, listening to it ring, and I prayed that Moira answered because she would be the only one who might know something.
"Pick up," I muttered, watching the taillights of Jace's truck disappear as he flew around a distant corner, while all I could do was observe the whole mess.
JACE
Used to be that I liked the quiet. In the silence, I could sit alone with my thoughts and feelings without worrying about what anyone around me was thinking or feeling. I could just be myself, even if it was the self that was losing his mind over how much his life had come crashing down around him. It had always been fucked up, that by being by myself in the quiet meant I could make myself miserable by obsessing over how much my life had fallen apart, but it was still the place I loved to retreat to when things got too heavy.
It wasn't the same quiet.
It was a quiet marred by the incessant beeping of machines, the soft scuff of shoes outside the room, the hushed conversation at the nearby desk, and the rustle of the curtains when the air came on. Each noise could have been a background tick, a thing to lull the back of my mind and allow me to think deeply for as long as I liked.
