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I look at him now as he stares straight ahead.

"Not really. Not like this."

I turn my shoulders, everything from guilt to shame to joy rushing through me.

Finally, he faces me.

"I'm so proud of you," I whisper, gripping the pocket of his sweatshirt.

That's all I can manage.

Jace swallows, his tongue grazing the inside of his cheek, his eyes avoiding mine. "You were supposed to see it."

He says it matter-of-factly—not bitter, not angry.

But my breath still hitches all the same.

Jace's jaw tightens as he finally locks eyes with me. "You were supposed to be here."

The sting hits me hard, but my body moves toward him almost on its own. I slide one hand into his pocket and tug him closer. "I'm here now."

His eyes close briefly, and my heart drops, thinking when he opens them again, they'll be full of hostility, maybe even hate.

But they're not.

They're heated. Hungry.

His hand slips between the thick fabric of his hoodie and curls into mine, his fingers gripping me tightly, his hold sending that same heat further south.

"I missed you," he whispers, palming the back of my neck with his free hand.

I tilt my head, leaning into his touch. "All I've done is miss you, Jace."

He searches my face like he's looking for proof.

So I give him some, pressing my lips to his.

Jace inhales through the kiss, his grasp around my hand growing tighter. He slides his fingers into my hair, fisting it like he's desperate for something—anything—to keep him grounded.

We meet again, him sucking on my bottom lip as we barely pull away and me whimpering the moment his teeth release it.

A guttural sound, low and unsatisfied, pours from him as he rips his hand from mine and throws his arms around my hips. He lifts me up, and like we do this everyday, I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to where I need him most—feeling just how much he needs me too.

Jace steps forward, pressing my back into his stall as my tongue sweeps his, and one of his hands flies to grip the shelf beside my head.

I kiss him again, desperate for more, my hips rocking against him in slow, deprived waves.

"Fuck," Jace breathes, his cock hard between us, my fingers kneeding into the muscle by his neck. "Lenny I—"

He freezes when I suddenly drop my legs from his waist, sliding back down to my feet. I press to my toes and kiss him again, softer this time. Lingering. And when I pull back, Jace's eyes slowly open.

I take a step forward, forcing him to counter it until his calves hit the back of his chair. As he falls to the seat, he reaches for me, grabbing my hip, and tugging me with him.

I go willingly, stumbling between his legs, hovering over him for once. "You," I whisper, my hand on his cheek.

Jace grabs a hold of my neck, pulling me to him as I catch myself on his shoulders before eagerly falling to my knees.

"Lenny…" he groans. A question. A warning.