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“Do you remember the summer we had the water war?” I ask.
His eyes glitter and he tilts his head. “Of course. I remember we had that heatwave, record temperatures. What made you think of it?” he asks, indicating he’s not gleaning the same wisdom from it I did.
I shrug. “I don’t know, really. But it got me thinking. For so long, you and I have been stuck in this war. When one of usstrikes, the other retaliates. Only lately did it turn . . . weird.” I grimace. “But like it or not, I’m stuck here for the next the rest of summer semester, and it would be nice for both of us if we didn’t have to feel as though we’re walking on eggshells the whole time.”
Jace’s eyes narrow like this is a trap. “What are you getting at?”
“Let’s have a truce, a cease-fire to our personal war. From here on out, you and I are no longer at odds.”
“A truce.” The word rolls off his tongue like he doesn’t know the meaning of it. “And you think you’re capable of that?”
“I do.” Mostly because I don’t have a choice.
If I truly want this to work and my remaining days of summer to be devoid of conflict, then I have to put in the effort.
He pushes off the counter, coming closer, and instinctively, I take a step back. “So, if we’re no longer enemies, that makes us . . . friends?” His eyes search mine, and I sense he’s looking for something, but I’m not sure what. Whatever it is, I don’t like it.
I swallow. “Friends might be a bit of a stretch.”
He laughs under his breath. “Just roommates, then?”
I nod. For some reason, this label I can handle. Maybe because it only requires a temporary level of commitment. Roommates can be a lot of things. You can hate your roommate, love your roommate, or tolerate them. It leaves room for something in between or nothing at all.
“Roommates.” I stretch a hand out to shake on it like we’re forming a business deal.
Jace chuckles but humors me, his hand lingering over mine longer than necessary. His palm is slightly rough and calloused, his skin warm. It’s the first time I’ve noticed the sheer size of them or the way the tendons in his forearms flicker with the subtle movement, and I wish I didn’t know how they feel slidingunder the hem of my shirt, gliding over my hot skin, or gripping my chin to kiss me.
My skin flushes, and I avoid his gaze, hoping he can’t read my thoughts when he pulls away with a smirk. I exhale in relief as he brushes past me and stops by the door. “You coming?”
JACE
To say I’m more than a little surprised at Brynn’s proposal to bury the hatchet over dinner would be an understatement. I’m floored. Shocked. Bewildered. But I’m also pleased. This is my chance to make up for crossing the line by putting my hands on her. All I need to do is behave and I’ll call this night a victory.
Hell, maybe we can even be friends. I know she thinks it’s a stretch, but I plan on proving to her it’s not.
Because the restaurant is close, we opt to go by foot instead of driving.
It’s a nice night, hot but not overly so, and the humidity is low. The scent of freshly mowed lawn scents the air, and the sound of shouting from a pickup basketball game in the courts outside the apartments echo in the background.
I walk beside her, slowing my pace to match hers. “Stanley hasn’t given you any crap since everything that happened, has he?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. He hasn’t spoken a word to me. Hasn’t even looked in my direction, in fact. Just comes and goes as if it never happened.”
“Good.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “Let me know if that changes.”
I feel her gaze heavy on the side of my face. “Can I ask you something?”
I cock my head. “Shoot.”
“What were you thinking about when I walked in the apartment earlier today? When you were staring out the window. You looked so deep in thought.”
My throat bobs, and I wonder how long she was standing there before I noticed.
I give a little shrug, trying to keep my expression neutral. “Not much. I spoke with my parents earlier.”
“Oh. Everything okay?”
I note the concern in her voice and wonder what it must be like to have the kind of parents who actually care.
