Jace stands with both hands shoved into his jean pockets. His posture looks relaxed at first glance, but I know him well enough now to see the tension in the set of his shoulders. The way he holds himself back from everything. Like he isn’t sure how much space of the room he is supposed to take up. As if he is ready to disappear the second someone tells him he doesn’t belong here.
His blue eyes stay fixed on my dad, before shifting to me. A flicker crosses his face before he quickly hides it behind that quiet indifference he always wears. It’s that carefully built wall he raises between himself and the rest of the world.
“Dad,” I say softly. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Still holding my dad’s hand, I turn toward Jace.
“Jace,” I say. “This is my dad.”
Jace steps forward slowly.
He walks across the room until he reaches the side of the bed. His hands slip out of his pockets and his shoulders lift. There’s a new sense of respect in the way he carries himself, one I have never seen before.
I never thought I would ever see that from Jace Cooper—the guy who shows up late to class, talks back to teachers, and treats authority figures with casual indifference at best of times.
“Sir,” he says. The word sounds almost foreign coming from his mouth. Too formal. Too polite. Nothing like the way Jace usually talks.
Dad studies him. Those warm brown eyes sweep over Jace from head to toe, taking in the messy blond hair. The kind of boy parents warn their daughters about.
“The... boy... you take extra... food... for.”
My whole face burns. Heat rises up my neck and spreads over my cheeks so quickly I swear the room temperature just shot up twenty degrees.
“Oh my God,” I mutter, pressing my hand to my forehead. “You really went with that one.”
Out of everything he could have said, he chose that.
My dad’s eyes crinkle at the corners, with the right side more than the left, but still enough to show he’s ridiculously pleased with himself.
“She... talks... about... you.”
Embarrassment hits me so hard I almost groan out loud.
“Dad,” I warn.
I risk a glance at Jace. His eyebrows lift, and a flicker of surprise crosses his face before he can hide it. It’s as if the idea that I’ve ever talked about him outside of school is something he’s never even considered.
“Well,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hope it wasn’t all bad.”
My eyes narrow.
“Oh please,” I shoot back. “You wish you were interesting enough for full conversations.”
The corner of Jace’s mouth lifts, a hint of a smirk threatening to break through.
“Good... things,” my dad says slowly. “She... worries.”
I freeze, and every muscle in my body tightens up.
“Dad,” I say again, my tone warning this time—a clear plea for him to stop talking.
I look over at Jace and instantly regret it, because that smug spark has grown into something close to satisfaction. His eyes are gleaming with it.
“Bells worries about me?” he says. There is amusement threaded through his voice. “That’s sweet.”
The cocky bastard.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Cooper,” I shoot back, my face still burning. “I worry about the general safety of the public. You’re a walking hazard.”
