Page 59 of Already Callin’ You Mine

“Teenage Presley would be very jealous of me right now, getting to climb up in your truck.”

Jace lets out a single wry chuckle, turning into my drive. I hate that we’re here, disappointment filling me as we come to a stop. I don’t want this to end.

“Can I confess something?” he asks, turning to face me again.

“Of course.”

“I really wanted to ask you to prom.”

Wait…what?!

My heart leaps out of my chest, getting stuck in my throat, strangling any chance I have at responding. Did he just…no. I misheard him. There’s no way—except, that look is back in his eyes. Those brown irises that are somehow so clear through the darkness. Telling me that he’s as sincere about that as he was about his apology.

I really wanted to ask you to prom…

Holy shit.

“I never told anyone. Not even Owen. None of my brothers or Willa. No one,” he continues when I don’t say anything. “Owen had kinda figured out that I had a crush on you, and he gave me plenty of shit about it, but never in front of anyone. I was trying to figure out a way to somehow ask, or make it seem like we were being forced to go together or something when the rumor started. By that point I was so embarrassed because I felt…”

“Seen?” I offer.

“Yeah. Someone had figured out my secret, and after having lost Super STAR student to you, I needed to save face.”

I nod, not quite sure what to do with all this information. I’m overwhelmed by the idea that teenage Jace felt the same way. That the boy I used to daydream about was across town, daydreaming about me. If that doesn’t sound like a song by my favorite pop star, Genevieve, I don’t know what does.

In fact, what would Genevieve do? She sure as hell wouldn’t just sit here thinking about it. No. She’d act.

So I do.

Reaching forward, I grab hold of Jace’s shirt, tugging him closer to me, and plant one on him. There’s no time for thinking now, my lips pressed to his, tasting the remnants of his dinner mixed with beer. Mixed with him.

Holy shit, I’m kissing Jace Hayes.

And he’s not kissing me back.

Jace freezes, his whole body going tense, and the longer I keep my mouth on his, the more awkward this feels. Not at all the hot rom-com moment I was expecting. Shit.

I need to let go. Clearly this was a very, very bad idea. I read the moment wrong. He is my boss—at least indirectly. We absolutely have to work together. And here I am, basically sexually harassing him.

Shit.

I reel backward, letting go of him like I’m dropping a hot potato. Pure mortification washes over me, my cheeks starting to heat up, my lungs incapable of doing their job right now. I need out of this truck. I need to run as fast as I can to my front door and then hide in my closet under a pile of clothes for the rest of time. I need⁠—

“Oh no, you don’t.”

Jace’s voice is deep, heavy, and full of something I can’t name. Something that instantly lights a fire in me.

Just as quickly, his hands are back on me, hauling me across the flat seat and into him. This time when his lips meet mine, he’s ready. And he’s taking charge.

This man knows what he’s doing. His kiss is the perfect combination of soft and strong, the ebb and flow of his movements moving in time with my racing heart. I give in, losing myself in the moment, getting lost in every little sensation. His soft stubble against my cheek, the rough callus of the finger toying with the hem of my shirt, the sweet yet manly taste of him. The taste that pairs so perfectly with his scent. The one that is still all over my couch.

Jace shifts, centering himself on the bench, hauling me fully into his lap, never breaking our kiss. I settle, straddling him, feeling slightly cramped with the dashboard behind me, but at least it’s better than the steering wheel.

Hands gripping my hips, Jace yanks me down, making sure I’m squarely where he wants me, then starts to move his hands up my torso. He slowly breaches the barrier of my tee, sending goose bumps up my flesh as his skin meets mine. The featherlight touch is borderline chaste—light, teasing—but my body reacts as if it is a full-on pleasure assault. Fuck if I don’t like it.

If I don’t want more.

It’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this. Truly touched at all. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time. Certainly before Otis was born, but if I’m being honest, it was a long time before that too.