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His Adam’s apple bobs when I nudge between his knees and take his chin between my fingers, tilting it slightly up. He flinches when I press the ice towel to his bruised cheek, then raises his eyes to meet mine.
Power is contagious. Especially when it’s so mundane, knowing you are better than the loud assholes who beat themselves in the chest at every corner.
In my stories, power is always in your face. In Jace, it lingers under the surface, and he uses it quietly, in secret, which makes it so much more intriguing.
Our faces are inches from each other. Suddenly I’m aware of my bare legs brushing against his jeans. His hands shift to his thighs, brushing against my bare flesh. I lean into him, knowing that he feels it too, the tension, the burn between us. His hands just kicked Chad’s ass, and I really want them on me.
I admire him so much right now that it makes my anger flare up—the anger of him not kicking Chad’s ass in front of everyone to see, because I want to blast it to the entire world.
I don’t take my fingers off his chin, loving every second of this contact, the way we breathe deeply, almost in sync.
The room disappears as we both gaze at each other, and one thought, one tiny realization makes my heart beat wildly—this is the first time Jace is gazing at me without looking away. Maybe alcohol is to blame, but there’s confidence in his gaze like he just fought off a rival and knows what he wants—me.
Our eyes stay locked, and in my mind, we are kissing, confessing our feelings, running scenarios in our heads of what can happen next.
I shift and suddenly feel his touch, his hands on my thighs, still but so hot, holding me gently in place.
The air burns between us.
I can feel it.
Webothfeel it and know what’s happening.
I let my lips curl in a tiny smile. So does he. It’s a silent yes, to what—neither of us know yet.
I love his eyes. Love what I see in them. I wish I could see deep enough to know where he comes from and what made him so quiet and withdrawn yet full of that inner power that he doesn’t put on display.
There’s one more thing I’m realizing, and it’s making my heart beat wildly. I’m falling, falling, falling for him, and I’m only hoping that there’ll come a moment when he catches me.
“Jesus, Lu, you gonna freeze his face!”
Tito’s voice snaps me out of my trance, and I blink fast, suddenly feeling awkward.
Jace gently takes my wrist and, with a soft smile, pulls my hand away from his face.
“That’s good, I think. Thank you,” he says as Tito jumps off the counter and pushes a drink into his hand.
And I step away from the chair, trying to shake off the momentary desire to pull Jace into my room and let him touch me anywhere he wants.
31
JACE
My body is usedto years of pain and physical abuse. But it can’t handle Lu’s proximity.
I’m on my fourth beer, but I can’t shake off the scene in my head—her standing between my knees, holding the ice to my cheek while my body burns, wanting to mold with hers.
Tito drags me to the couch in the living room. I think he’s trying to comfort me right now. That’s sweet.
The couch barely has any room among a dozen people anchored around the coffee table. But a redhead named Erin scoots over and pats the miserable one foot of empty space next to her.
“Jace! So, you are Lu’s roommate. I’ve heard a lot.”
I doubt that. But she probably saw me get punched, feels bad, and might be a sucker for a charity case.
Fucking Chad.
I’m not a violent guy, but he put his hand on Lu, and God, did it feel good to let go by the elevator. I had to hold back not to knock his teeth out.
