Page 126 of Fight or Flight
Slowly, he drags his teeth over his lower lip, and my entire body tightens as he looks me up and down like I’m his favorite treat and he’s deciding if he wants to take a bite or not.
Jace is gorgeous on a regular day when he’s just existing, but right now, with his perfect features bathed in moonlight and dark hair shining like there are strands of spun gold in it, he’s not just beautiful, he’s breathtaking.
“Do you still need air?” he asks, and the little rumble in his voice sends a good shiver up my spine.
Dumbly, I shake my head. I don’t want to go back to the party, but being alone with Jace right now isn’t an option either.
“After you,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine.
It takes way more willpower than I’ll ever admit to step back from him, and I’m hyperaware of his presence behind me as I climb the steps and head back into the house.
The bright lights and noise that greet me when I step through the door are disorienting after being in the dark, and I blink a few times so my eyes can adjust to the change.
“Dude,” Dan calls, a huge grin on his face, as he ambles toward me. “I thought you bailed.”
“Nope, just needed some air.” I glance around, but Jace is gone.
How the fuck does he move so silently? It’s not like he’s tiny or anything. He weighs almost as much as me, and I sound like a damn elephant wearing tap shoes when I’m trying to be stealthy.
“Looking for Lianna?” Dan asks in that overly loud and obvious way drunk people do when they’re trying to be subtle. “I saw her go?—”
“Not looking for her,” I cut in.
“Keeping your options open, huh?” He grins. “I get it.”
I give him a weak smile. “You know me. I’m all about options.” I lift my hand like I’m proving that it’s empty. “And right now I need options to fix the fact that I can still think thoughts.”
He laughs and waves toward the dining room that’s off to the left. “They just did a restock. The good stuff is in there.”
I pretend to tip my hat to him. “Then that’s where I’m going.”
I’m almost at the door to the dining room when Mason steps in front of me, blocking my path.
“The fuck?” I splutter and stumble to a stop so I don’t crash into him. He looks pissed enough to kill.
“Do you have something you want to say to me?” he practically snarls.
I blink at him a few times, my already fuzzy brain not quite keeping up with whatever the fuck he’s talking about.
“No?” I say after a few beats.
“Really? You’ve got nothing to say to me?” he repeats and balls his hands into tight fists at his side.
I just stare at him like a dumbass, my brain playing catch-up while I try to process what’s going on. Why would I have anything to say to him?
“You trying to steal my girl?” he demands when I keep quiet.
I can’t stop my snort of laughter. “Fuck no. Been there, done that. No backsies.”
That was the wrong thing to say, and he lunges at me, his arm back and ready to unleash his anger into my face. But before I can even try to defend myself, Jace steps in front of me and gives Mason a quick shove to the chest that stops him in his tracks.
“Didn’t anyone teach you to keep your hands to yourself?” Jace asks in a bored voice. “Or were you too busy licking the glue off your macaroni artwork to pay attention to that lesson?”
“This has nothing to do with you, Hawthorne,” Mason snarls. “Back the fuck off.”
“No.” Jace shifts so he’s beside me instead of between us. “Not until you can play nice.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” Mason spits out, his arms shaking from how tightly he’s clenching his fists. “Now.”
