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I let Prue out and then I head into town. I need something to do, so I might as well shop.
I head downtown, into the city, and park on a side street. I pull my phone out of my purse and text Rae.
Me: Hey—I’m in town, can you do something?
Rae: No, sorry, I’m working.
I text Nova next.
Me: I’m hanging out in town today—are you free?
Nova: Sorry, I’m out with Joel. We’re photographing the art museum today for their event next month. They wanted new photos for their fliers.
I groan and smack my hand against the steering wheel.
All my friends have jobs or things to do and I’m just pregnant.
My phone beeps again.
Nova: Jace is home. He doesn’t work until evening. Ask him.
Am I literally so desperate to hang out with someone that I’d ask Jace?
The answer is yes, yes I am.
Me: Hang out with me.
Jace: No.
Me: Yes.
Jace: NO.
Me: Please. I’m bored. Xander’s gone all the time and it’s just the dog and she likes him more so when he’s gone she sits by the door and cries all day.
Jace: Ugh.
Me: I’m near your apartment. You can meet me at a café or something. We’ll get lunch, my treat. And then walk around for a while. I just need to be out, and I’m pregnant, so being out by myself makes me lonely and then I cry. You don’t want me to cry in public do you?
Jace: Ugh.
Jace: Text me where you are. I’ll be there in five.
Jace: But you’re buying me the most expensive burger ever.
Me: Deal.
I look where I am and text him the address and then sit in my car to wait for him to meet me.
It doesn’t take him long to get there. I see him striding up the road. He’s really tall so he stands out. He’s much leaner than Xander, though. His blond hair is longer on top and shorter on the sides and he has it shoved back, like he’s been running his fingers through it a lot.
I hop out of my car and meet him on the streets. “Thanks, Jace.” I smile at him—and he should seriously know how thankful I am since I didn’t call him Jacen. I know he hates his first name, so I like to constantly use it to make him mad. Making Jace mad is a hobby of mine, because he never gets raging mad, and just gets this disgusted look on his face like he tastes something sour.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal—but a few years ago, before Nova, no convincing on my part would’ve gotten him to come out with me.
“Where do you want to go?” he asks.
“I have no real agenda. I just had to get out, so I left.”
