Sam leans down for me to mess up his hair for good luck, then runs off to chase something shiny, so I grab a chair and catch up with Jace.
“Tune the Fender, Cupcake. You been practicing?” He points to my favorite as he reaches over to hit a key on the piano. I’m proud of this job, especially since someone as talented and absurdly neurotic as Jace trusts me to do it.
“Nope, not really,” I admit.
This is about the extent of my expertise, but I took a few lessons, and my ear’s good enough to match the E he plays. He down-tunes a Gibson while I standard-tune the mystic surf green Telecaster. They have a ridiculous amount of gear for an unpaid gig situation.
Jace puts in a ton of hours at the hospital, so we haven’t seen each other much. Limited exposure is probably best anyway. Where Daniel’s laid-back and controlled, Jace is uptight with an opinion about everything.
All the check-ins and unsolicited advice make him seem older than twenty-five. I know the radiology program is intense, and it’s his second attempt, but I miss the old irreverently funny Jace. He’s still irreverent and mostly funny, but the long hours have made him recklessly uncensored.
If he hadn’t been on his best behavior when he helped me move in last year, his striking black hair, icy eyes, and sharp tongue might’ve been intimidating. But we found common ground in ’90s sitcoms, Marvel movies, and of course music.
He builds intricate Lego models—planes and ships, or sometimes human anatomy—eww. It’s also his personal mission to make sexually charged innuendo out of everything we say, which is odd considering his comfort show isFull House.
He’s like Tony Stark with a guitar … in scrubs. It’s wild to see Dr. Know-It-All transform into a guitar wizard who sings with effortless falsetto like Adam Levine.
If Daniel’s salted caramel, Jace is molten lava.
“Remember the riff I taught you?” Jace plays a bit from a Pink song, and I echo it back, albeit a little slow. “Accurate, but where’s the attitude? You gotta play it angry, sweetheart.”
“You haven’t been around enough to properly tick me off, Jacey.”
“Aww. Do you miss rubbing your hands all over my frets?” He gives me a smarmy grin while I gag.
“That was sobad.” I groan as I set his pretty vintage green Telecaster back on a stand. “You’re out of practice. That was pathetic.”
“I know. I’m out of practice with everything. You’re singing the high parts tonight.” He hooks an arm around my neck and discreetly leans in. “So was that for real with Danny or groupie deterrent?”
“He’s apparently not into Little Red Jailbait,” I joke. “Kidding. She’s nineteen, but he used me like a human shield.”
“What excuse do I need to get you in my lap? Becausedayumm.”
“Shut up, Jace.”Here we go.
He opens fire without so much as a warning shot. “Listen, Cupcake. I’m busy. I don’t have time to gather intel. So if youalready have or will be hooking up with my roommate, kindly dump the loser you say you’re engaged to, because Danny’s not your backup plan. Don’t do him like that.”
I can usually keep up with him, but I’m left staring in an open-mouthed daze. I guess I’m out of practice too. I take a breath and prepare to fight back, grabbing a fistful of the back of his shirt, keeping him close so I can keep my voice down.
“Wow,first of all, I don’t hook up. Act like you’ve met me. And keep in mindhestarted it. I didn’t just climb in his lap. You’ve done the same thing, pulling me between you and some random girl.” I let him go and duck out from under his arm.
“Simmer down, teapot.”
“Did you just call mefat?”
The color drains from his face as he backpedals. “What? No! I was calling you short … and hot. The angry kind of hot, in this case. You know,I’m a little teapot, short and… Stout doesn’t necessarily mean fat, but … can we just call this one hell of a teaching moment? You got me.”
“I’m going to look for Annie.” That’ll redirect him.
“She went home to change. She’s almost here,” he says, glancing at his phone.
“Oh really?” I mimic his annoyed stare. They always know each other’s whereabouts, and it has not gone unnoticed. Jace may be better at hiding it, but he keeps up with Annie as much as DC keeps up with me. Now to pretend I didn’t draw a parallel between us like couples.
We’re not.
I tease them a little, but I never take it too far, because I don’t know how his protectiveness ofheris different from his protectiveness ofme, other than being decidedly less violent. He’s a spinning wheel of dirty innuendo and scathing snark with me, but that butthead is downright soft for her. I know his family issues run deep, but other than our similar dad issues, I don’tknow much. So I tread lightly with him about relationships.For now.
“I’m a single guy who occasionally checks on my single neighbor,” he volleys back. “See how that works? You and Danny have been in some kind of Amish-style courtship for a year. You have chaperonesmostof the time, but you’re together. And yet … you’re still dating someone else.”
