“The group!” Jace said, gesturing around like it was obvious. “The vibe. The brotherhood. The brand.”
I leaned back, smirking. “Pretty sure the last time we let you lead, we ended up banned from an Applebee’s.”
“That was amisunderstanding,” he shot back. “And everyone gets banned from Applebee’s at some point. It’s just something that happens.”
Parker’s head whipped toward him. “I’ve literally never heard that.”
He pointed at me triumphantly. “See? I’m the leader because I hear things. This group would be nothing without me.”
“We definitely wouldn’t be the No Drama Llamas,” I agreed.
Jace grinned, clearly taking that as a win instead of the insult it was. “Exactly. You’re welcome. Now let’s make it official.”
Before Parker or I could say anything else, Jace held up his arm like it was about to get knighted. “Alright, Adler. Let’s do this before I lose my nerve.”
Then he started…breathing. Weird, exaggerated,labor-breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth, shoulders rising and falling.
Parker stared. “You’re not about to give birth, you know.”
Jace glared up at him mid-inhale. “It’s called pain management, Parker. Maybe look it up before you start judging.”
Parker blinked. “Pretty sure you stole that from a prenatal yoga video.”
Jace ignored him, switching to short, loud exhales that sounded like he was trying to blow out birthday candles on a deadline. “Women obviously know what they’re doing, so of course I’m going to try their techniques,” he explained between puffs.
I grabbed a wipe and cleaned the spot on his arm. “That actually makes sense,” I mused.
“This isn’t the first time that I’ve said this,” he said, eyes squeezed shut like he was summoning inner peace—or a demon, “but I’m not sure why you always seem so shocked when I say smart things.”
Parker and I exchanged another look.
Jace cracked one eye open and caught us. “I see that look,” he said, his voice muffled through his steady breathing. “And I’m choosing to ignore it because that’s what leaders do.”
I tried to keep a straight face as I snapped on my gloves and Jace’s shoulders tensed immediately.
“Okay,” he said, his voice rising slightly, “maybe just count me down so I know when it’s happening.”
“Sure,” I said. “Three?—”
The needle hadn’t even touched him yet before he sucked in a huge, dramatic breath, his whole body locking up like he was bracing for impact.
“Two,” I continued, fighting a laugh.
“Wait, wait, wait, I wasn’t ready?—”
I pressed the pedal. The needle hit skin with a sharpbuzz.
Jace yelped. “OH MY GOSH, WHY DID YOULIE?”
Parker leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “If he passes out, I’m calling Riley.”
“Shut up,” Jace muttered, glaring at him.
Jace wascoveredin tattoos already. I suddenly felt bad for every artist who’d had to deal with this level of chaos while holding a needle.
He gritted his teeth, breathing like a man in labor again. “Okay, okay—this is fine. Totally fine. Pain is weakness leaving the body.”
“That’s what they say,” Parker agreed.
