Page 26 of Jace
I grunt an okay as she walks away, then use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth clean. Seriously, I’ll never understand what the appeal is of that gooey stuff and why she can spend hours watching YouTube videos on how to apply that shit. Waste of time if you ask me.
She was right about the booth's impending overcrowding, though. It starts to fill with band members and their entourage now that the gig's over.
“That was a killer one, babe,” Lamar greets his girlfriend as Missy slides in next to him, making me scoot closer to the wall with Lamar practically plastered to my side.
“Thanks! I think we're finally getting into our groove. I absolutely adore the new song Jace came up with!” She's practically bouncing with excitement as she claps her hands together, and kisses Lamar swiftly. “Oh, is that for me?” She grabs the club soda that’s actually Lamar’s and proceeds to chugit down in one go as he looks on like a love-struck fool. Looks like performing really wears you out.
Jace still hasn’t shown up, but judging by the swarm of women around the stage and the mop of blonde hair sticking out, he's probably held up. I snicker at that, grateful someone else is soaking up more attention than me for once. He's an excellent distraction for the crowd that usually orbits around me.
Good thing I was looking at him as well, because otherwise I wouldn't have seen where the empty glass was coming from, which is flying through the air, going straight for his head.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim, already on my feet and over the table before Jace fully hits the ground. I can hear Lamar yelling something behind me, probably angry at all the drinks that now are all over him and Missy, but I don’t fucking care.
I’m there in a heartbeat, pushing some of the upset girls aside who are hovering over him. He’s on his knees, head lowered to the ground, his hands on top of it, swearing like a damn sailor.
“You okay?” I ask, kneeling beside him, one hand gently resting on his sweaty white shirt. He looks up at me, grimacing, his eyes a little watery.
“Shit,” he grunts finally, between clenched teeth. “What the hell was that?”
“A glass. Hang on,” I reply softly. “Let me check.” I gently help him up so that he is sitting with his back to me and peel his hand away to check his head, making him cringe when my fingers touch his scalp. I’m doing my very best to ignore the people all around us, but since there is some commotion a few tables over, that’s hard. For now, I need to ensure Jace is okay; I’ll punch thesucker who did this out cold later. Because I know exactly who did.
Jace's warm hand finds my knee as he's nestled between my legs. He grips it tightly when I inspect the sizable bump on the back of his head, letting out some more profanities as he does.
“Well you’re lucky. I don’t see any shards so the glass must be intact somewhere. It’s not bleeding either,” I conclude and pat his sandy hair gently back down to cover the bump. “But it’s a big one.”
“It hurts like hell, too,” he mumbles, touching the area himself.
“Turn around,” I order and help him when he does. He’s cross-legged before me now, and I lift my ass higher to loom over him, grabbing his chin to look into his gray eyes, searching for any anomalies. “Feeling dizzy?”
“Nah, I'm not. It's just throbbing pain, really. I'm fine.”
I frown at that, making him roll his eyes. “Stop it. Head injuries are serious business. I've taken a few knocks to the head on the field, never suffered a severe concussion, but I've seen big guys go down and be out of commission for weeks. So just humor me, okay?”
His blink is followed by a sly grin, mischief now glinting in his eyes. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”
Well, if he’s cracking jokes, he’ll be just fine. But I'll still give him a thorough check. Head injuries are no laughing matter.
“Alright then,” I begin, “are you feeling dizzy?”
He shakes his head, which makes him inhale a sharp breath as he grabs my legs, flinching.
“So it hurts, yeah?”
“Of course it fucking hurts, someone threw a glass at my head. Should I try it on you? Or is your head so thick that you think you’ll be invincible? News flash, when you're not wearing your football helmet and a damn glass comes flying at you? It hurts like a bitch.”
I chuckle at his retort, ignoring the rest of his rant. “Feeling nauseous?”
“No,”he answers, fingers digging into my legs. “But Iamthirsty.”
“We’ll get to that. How’s your vision? Is it blurry?”
“No, I can see your handsome face just fine,” he replies, locking his gaze with mine. “Actually, I quite enjoy the view. You can go on holding me like this, and I'll be alright. Totally fine.”
I smirk at his familiar antics. “So, no fatigue either, I presume?”
His gaze intensifies as his hands gently tighten. “Nah, but if you keep staring at me like that, I might be feeling woozy because of entirely other reasons.”
I’m forcing myself not to fucking blush. You’d think I’d be used to his flirtatious side by now, but somehow my stupid body always stupidly reacts. Clearing away the awkward sensation, I stand up quickly and pull him up with me, steadying him when he wobbles.
