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I want him to look at me. His eyes are an open book. There are usually so many emotions in them that I should’ve understood all the darkness and loneliness he comes from. I just didn’t know it was so much more intense. It’s not just about his past or the present, but how he is with me. Like he wants me one day, and the next day he’s ashamed of what happened. When he opens up one moment but omits the most important parts and pulls back like he’s afraid I’ll judge him.
“You kiss me one night, Jace, then don’t talk about it like it’s a dirty secret. Am I?”
His eyes snap at me. “What? No. Lu, it’s—”
“Then we kiss again, and you do amazing things, but then you scale back like you are trying to shake it off.”
“Lu, it’s not like that.”
“If you want us to carry on, let’s talk, Jace. I want to know what’s happening. If thereissomething happening.” I hate how desperate I sound, but I want to sort this out. “I want to know if…” I can’t spill my feelings. It’s too early and unfair now that I know he was hiding so many things. “If I’m the only person here going crazy and obsessing over my roommate while you…”
I go quiet and stare at my feet, biting my lower lip so I don’t show how unnerved I am.
Jace walks up to me and cups my face. “You have no idea what you do to me, Lu.”
His thumbs stroke my cheeks.
No, I don’t want to send him away. I want him closer, so much closer.
“What is it that I do?” I murmur with bitterness. “It must bespecialif you don’t want to share the most important parts of yourself.”
“Because I didn’t want to scare you off. There are parts of my past and present you might not like. Youdon’t, I can see that. And I so desperately want you to understand, but I’m afraid that you won’t. Petrified, actually. I’m… I’m so crazy about you, Lu. You know it. How can you not?”
His forehead touches mine. Our eyes meet. His are darker but so full of warmth. That’s what drew me to him in the first place. No matter what he says, does, shows, or hides, there’s always this warm kindness in his eyes. It’s genuine and disarming.
“All these secrets, Jace,” I whisper. “I thought we were being honest with each other.”
“Yes, it’s just—”
“You’re not a salesperson.”
He shakes his head, his forehead rolling over mine.
This is crazy. I knew something was off, just not that—a bounty hunter.
“I knew it,” I say. “This was the biggest bullshit. And why would you keep it from me?”
“What did you want me to do, Lu? Say, ‘Hi, I’m Jace. I used to shoot people in the desert. Now I hunt people down for money. Can I move in with you?’”
“That’s what you call it? Hunt?”
“Not hunt. No.” He pulls away abruptly. His hands are off me and lock behind his neck. “It’s a job, like policing. We don’t hurt people.”
“So, then why couldn’t you tell me?”
Becky joked, saying I had fictophilia and am in love with my fictional character. But she doesn’t know how much of Jace is in it. Or that my new novel is my diary of sorts. Turns out, even my character’s secrets are Jace’s. It’s scary and feels like I’m losing my mind.
And here’s the bitter truth.
Jace doesn’t know that I blatantly use him for my writing. If I tell him, will he think I’m obsessed? Will he think I’m a stalker? A nymphomaniac? An identity thief?
In truth, I’m hiding my own secret from him.
Studying my face, Jace takes my hands in his, stroking them gently, so tenderly I want to whimper.
My anger is gone. He has this magical power to make the world fall away around us when we are next to each other.
He leans in and kisses my cheek. “I’ll tell you anything you want, Lu.” He kisses my brow, then my forehead, pulling me into his arms. “I just didn’t want to scare you away.” He places little kisses all around my face, then kisses the corner of my mouth, making my heart melt. “Is this our first fight?”
