God, it hurts when he calls me that.
When his reaction was?—
I close my eyes.
And he doesn’t want?—
The pain in my chest is so intense that it takes my breath away, that my eyes glass over again, that my lungs struggle to work.
“Marie.”
God. Why does his voice have to be so gentle?
Why does that gentle make all of this hurt so much?
“Cookie, just?—”
“I’m fine.” I stand, turn for my car. “I should go.”
He snags my arm, stopping me before I can escape.
I can’t look at him, not when my heart is breaking into a million pieces.
So, I just say again, “I should go.”
He rocks back on his heels, as though I’ve wounded him. “You’re going to do this”—he touches his pocket, where he’d so carefully stowed the patent approval—“and that”—a wave of his hand toward the land I’d so insanely purchased—“and you’re just going to leave?”
“I-it’s o-okay,” I sputter. “I know that this was a dozen steps too far. Don’t worry. I’m sure I can cancel the contract or resell the land. I?—”
“Resell the land?” He scowls then moves forward, forcing me to skitter back, not stopping until he’s pinned me between his body and my car. “Cancel the contract? What the fuck are you talking about, gorgeous?”
“You don’t want this,” I say. “I get it. Too much too soon. And?—”
“Did I say I don’t want this?”
It’s a dry question, one that stops the cracking of my heart, sending confusion ricocheting through me in its wake. “No,” I say, starting to come back to myself. “But then again, you didn’t say anything. You just walked away.”
He smiles, and it’s so beautiful it takes my breath away. “You’re right. I walked away. Because what you did with this”—another touch to his pocket—“and that”—another nod toward the sign—“are the nicest things that anyone has ever done for me.” A beat. “Ever.”
“Jace,” I begin.
“Ever,” he repeats. He cups my jaw, tilts my face up so our gazes are aligned. “And I love you for it.”
Every cell in my body freezes and I rasp out, “What?”
“I love you, Marie. I have from the moment you aced me out of my own Lyft.”
“I—” But I can’t summon any other words.
That’s okay, though. Because Jace is still talking.
“You know what I was thinking about when Brooks drove me over here?”
I shake my head.
“Nice play, by the way,” he says, lightly running his thumb over my cheek, “getting my friend in on the action. I didn’t suspect a thing.”
“I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
