I don’t turn and look. Not at first.
But a prickle crawls up the back of my neck.
It's like my body can sense something.
Something it recognizes before my brain does.
Brian keeps talking but my heartbeat goes off kilter.
So I finally look and sure enough, it was Jace that walked in.
Duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Practice gear I assume. Jaw shadowed. Hair a little damp like he showered quickly or ran a hand through it a hundred times. He looks tired, but still… him.
Too much him.
Ethan is beside him, coffee loyalty card in hand, clearly mid-conversation. He must be going with him to practice today.
But the second Jace’s eyes land on me, onus, his whole expression shuts down.
Just like last night.
Like it always has when he’s trying not to react to something that's bothering him.
His steps falter. The bag slips slightly on his shoulder. That muscle in his jaw ticks once, twice and then his teeth grind together.
Ethan follows his stare, then mutters, “Don’t,” under his breath.
It’s so quiet I shouldn’t hear it. But I do. Or maybe I think I do. Because really all I can hear is the pounding of my own pulse and how fast it is.
Jace ignores him completely and walks toward our table.
My stomach drops immediately.
Brian turns as Jace stops beside us, offering a tight nod like he’s rehearsing it in real time.
“Hey,” Jace says. Neutral.Tooneutral. “Morning.”
My mouth is suddenly dry. “Hey.”
Brian smiles politely. “Morning.”
Jace looks at him like he’s one wrong word away from becoming a problem, sizing him up without even meaning to. He’s trying and completely failing to hide how much it bothers him.
Ethan, still by the counter, pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s preparing for impact.
“So,” Jace says, voice even but not relaxed. “What brings you two here?”
“Coffee.” Brian says, tipping his cup towards Jace as if to say, prove a point.
Then he smiles politely, unaware of the tension crackling through the air. “Sarah invited me. I’m Brian, by the way, don’t think we’ve officially met.”
He extends his hand.
Jace looks at it like it’s something he has to identify before touching. His jaw ticks. I shoot him a warning look, and only then does he take Brian’s hand in a quick, clipped shake that’s barely more than contact.
“Jace,” he says, like Brian should’ve known.
Brian chuckles, still oblivious. “We were just catching up after last night.”
