I shrug. “Talking about it doesn’t change anything.”
He huffs a dry laugh. Then his gaze sharpens a little, landing on me.
“You and Josie. Is it serious?”
I pause.
The truth is: I don’t know what we are. But last night felt like more than just sex. It felt like a line was crossed. Like I opened something up that I can’t close again.
So I give him the only answer that feels honest.
“It’s starting to feel like it.”
Jace nods, thoughtful. “She’s good for you.”
“She’s not just good for me,” I say before I can stop myself. “She’s… good. Period.”
That earns a look. One of those rare, quiet moments from Jace where I can see exactly how much he understands.
“You’re not gonna screw it up,” he says. “You’ve changed.”
“Not enough.”
Jace tosses the ball again, slower this time. “This isn’t like Savannah.”
I catch it, but the mention of her name slams into me harder than the pass ever could. I look up, eyes narrowing.
“No,” I say, voice flat as I return the ball. “It’s not.”
Jace jogs a few steps closer, rolling the ball between his hands. “That whole thing with her. It was never real, man. Not in the way this is shaping up to be.”
I exhale slowly. “You always hated her.”
“Because I saw what you couldn’t. Or maybe what you didn’t want to.” His tone’s low but steady. “She liked the cameras. Liked the attention. Liked you for what youwere. The name, the fame, the lifestyle. Not for who you actually are.”
I stare at the ground, jaw ticking. “Yeah. I didn’t want to believe it at first.”
“Of course not. She played the game well. Said all the right things, looked good on your arm, knew exactly how to turn it on for the press. But behind closed doors?” He shakes his head. “She didn’t give a damn about you, man. Not really.”
“She didn’t even try to hide it by the end,” I mutter. “Made me feel like I was always one misstep away from being replaced.”
Jace nods. “Because to her, you were.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy with everything we aren’t saying.
“Josie’s not like that,” I say finally, the words sticking a little in my throat, not because I doubt them, but because of how much Idon’t. “She doesn’t want anything from me. Not my name. Not my money. Hell, she didn’t even know who I was the night we met.”
“Exactly.” Jace’s voice softens. “She sees you. The real you.”
I glance away, throat tight. “Scares the shit out of me sometimes.”
“Yeah, well. That’s how you know it’s worth something.”
We fall quiet again, the ball dangling between us.
And I realize, this thing with Josie, it’s already different. Because I’m not performing. I’m not chasing something or trying to hold onto what I already lost.
I’m just me.
