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“Who is she?” he finally blurts out, throwing me for even more of a loop.
“Who is who?”
Jace growls in frustration. He reaches as if to shake me, but recovers himself.
“The girl,” he emphasizes. “The girl you came to the festival with on Friday.”
I blink in surprise. With all that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, I’d forgotten that the harvest dance had only been a few nights ago. Jace, on the other hand, appears to have thought of nothing else for the last forty-eight hours.
“I’ve been wracking my brains,” he says, one hand to his temple, “and I cannot put a name to the face.”
“You don’t know who she is?”
Poor Alice. She had certainly known who Jace was that day at the library. When I’d probed as we got ready for the festival at her place, I’d managed to find out that they’d been in school together but little else. East River isn’t a big town. Just how oblivious had Jace been to the little librarian, until now?
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you. Come on Lizzie, who is she? A friend from New York?”
“No,” I laugh. “She’s from East River.”
“Dammit.”
As Jace shoves his hands into his hair, I’m surprised to see him looking so strung out. Especially over a girl. In the short time I’d known him, the man had been on four dates (with different women), made comment on a half dozen more, and had a good relationship with every female customer who walked in the door. Whether he’d slept with them or not. Jace is the king of the flirts and yet now… Now, he looks as if sweet little Alice has him tied up in knots.
“Did you sleep last night, Jace?”
There are dark smudges beneath his eyes and I wonder if insomnia is responsible for that slight glint of crazy in his eye.
“Not much, but that’s not important. Gimme the girl’s name and I’ll leave you to the rest of your day off.”
“And what? If I don’t, you’ll chain me in place?” I fold my arms, amused.
It’s curious how I can be this close to Jace, crammed in a little alcove, whispering away, and feel absolutely nothing romantic for him. Jace is an exceptionally handsome man. Probably more classically attractive than Caleb. Then there’s his skill with the opposite sex. And yet, nothing.
No zings of arousal, no heightened senses from being so close. No feeling of sensual intimacy or a need to feel closer.
Apparently, only Caleb can turn simple nearness into something irresistible. Jace, on the other hand, I just want to give a big hug to and send him off to bed.
“Okay, Jace.” I put my hands on his shoulders. “Listen to me. I tell you the name of that girl and you’re gonna be running off to make a series of bad decisions in your eagerness to see her again, right?”
Like most men, confronted with the very real possibility of weakness, Jace snorts softly in disagreement. But he also doesn’t argue.
“So, let’s keep her as Mystery Girl for now. You get some sleep so you can start thinking again with your bigger head and if you still haven’t come up with anything by the end of the week, I’ll take pity on you.”
Or maybe I wouldn’t.
Alice had been stunning on Friday night. There is no question of that. But she had been pretty when I’d first met her too, with haphazard hair and a pen between her teeth. If Jace hadn’t seen that, and put two and two together, then he perhaps doesn’t deserve to have me pave the way to the girl. Alice is too sweet a person to serve up as a sacrificial lamb, just because Jace has a bugbear in his pants over her.
For a moment, I think Jace is going to fight me on it but, eventually, he exhales. He rubs the back of his neck.
“There’s something about her Lizzie. Her smile, the look in her eye. Something just hit me, and I barely got a chance to talk to her before she disappeared on me! But fine, I’ll hold off. I mean, do I really look that bad?”
I snort.
“I’ve seen you better. Let’s put it that way.”
With the promise of future answers, Jace seems to relax, the tension within him deflating to a manageable level. He almost looks embarrassed for his brief outburst.
“You know, I didn’t think I’d be the one worse off between the two of us this morning,” he says, a scanning stare taking me in from head to foot. I look down at myself, decked out in all my jeans and sweater glory. “I’m surprised you can walk.”
