Present Day
Hannah Michaels Crestfall
JACE WAS LARGER-THAN-LIFE.
He was the same and yet completely different at the same time. Grown up, responsible, and still brooding, his presence was indomitable.
The banter we shared had come back in a heartbeat. The strategies we used to brainstorm were almost as formable as they once had been. Everything between us was pretty much unchanged except for one big difference . . . there wasn’t going to be any romantic involvement.
It was strange to think I could spend years in his proximity and he might never let me in. Strange because the man had been inside my head for ten years. Always a whisper, a memory, a regret I couldn’t shake.
Then again, I had turned my back on him over something I should have given him time to explain.
But like him, although I was the same as I had been in college, I was also completely different. And I no longer saw the world as black and white as I once had. I’d come to learn people do things for reasons that are sometimes unexplainable.
And I’d learned it the hard way.
None of that could matter, though. What mattered was that I had a job I loved for the first time in my life, and that, along with my son, was what I needed to focus my energy on.
Not Jace.
Not a man who was haunted by a wife that had died.
Not a man who wasn’t ready to, or simply couldn’t, shed his grief.
Not a man who would fuck me, but never look me in the eyes. It had been exactly a week since our encounter in the conference room. And if the fact that Jace had gone out of his way to avoid me the entire week wasn’t proof of that, having Ethan drop Jonah off tonight after their football lessons in the park was.
When I first saw Ethan get out of the car, I wasn’t certain how he’d react to seeing me. When he walked Jonah to the porch, I was nervous about what he’d say. But then he kissed me on the cheek, and asked me how I was, and I remembered that Ethan was like having sunshine on your back after a cold night. Always welcome. He was the same, although much more mature. And I had been glad for the chance to see him.
“Where’s Jace?” I had asked.
“It’s boys night out. Lucas is in town and he is insisting we meet early enough so he can have his pick of women.”
I laughed. “That’s a college student for you.”
Ethan smirked. “He thinks he’s hot stuff. Anyway, Jace wanted to get Scarlett to bed before he leaves,” he offered.
“Boys night, huh,” I smirked.
“Yeah,” he ran his hand over his ever-neat blonde hair. “Something we’ve been doing since Tricia died.”
My heart had sunk.
And now, hours later, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About how broken Jace was.
Closing my eyes, I willed myself to stop thinking about him in any way other than my boss’s boss.
Maybe it was because I couldn’t sleep, or maybe it was because the particular episode of the television show I had been trying to watch was a bit creepier than normal, but as I laid alone in the dark, I swore I heard noises.
It was all in my head, of course, but Jonah was fast asleep down the hall, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep myself until I made certain of it.
Getting out of bed, I went to the tiny, stuck-shut window in the hall, thinking the noise could have come from traffic, but heard nothing. Not even a passing car. After all, it was close to midnight on a residential street that wasn’t that big.
Once I crept down the stairs in the dark, I checked that Jonah hadn’t left a toy turned on, or that something wasn’t playing on my laptop. Anything that might account for the creaking noise that didn’t seem to stop, but there was nothing.
All silent.
I listened, hard, straining.
Nothing.
I didn’t realize I’d clenched my hands so hard until my fingernails stung my palms. The show had spooked me, and I vowed to never stay up this late again watching another rerun.
Listening with every muscle and nerve in my body, I heard a thump on my front porch, and realized one of the neighborhood dogs or cats must have been trying to eat the herb pants Jonah and I had planted over the summer.
Without thinking about consequences, I grabbed the baseball bat I kept in the hall closet and tiptoed toward the front door. Peeking out the small windowpane of the front door, I saw nothing. I loosened my grip on the baseball bat and wiped my sweaty palm before gripping it even tighter. Carefully turning the lock, I yanked open the front door and kicked the screen open as I leapt onto the front porch with my bat at the ready.
I made a noise. It was something meant to intimidate whatever small animal had taken up residence up on my porch.
Three things happened. First, I remembered, too late, that wild animals were known to roam the neighborhood at night. Skunks, squirrels, and God knew what else. Second, my knees buckled and my breath caught. And third, the man sitting on my porch steps jumped to his feet just as my bat swung, and then ducked, falling flat on his face.
“Jace.” The single word slipped off my tongue.
His expression was hard, and his eyes glittered with a fierce light I couldn’t interpret. “Holy fucking shit!” he scowled as he glared up at me. “You could have killed me.”
With my eyes wide, I dropped the bat and grabbed the handle of the screen door for support. I blinked and got my breathing under control.
Remaining stunned himself, it took Jace more than a few seconds to rise to his full height. When he did, he wiped his hands on his pants and stared at me in shock.
Although I shouldn’t have, I couldn’t help but devour the sight of him. Rarely had I seen him in jeans, except for the Friday nights he stood by his car waiting for Jonah to safely climb the porch steps.
Up close, I could see they fit him like a dream.
They fit him as they had in college.
They reminded me of him back then.
Faded and worn and perfect. Tonight he was wearing a long sleeve black t-shirt that molded to his muscled chest and was snug around his sculpted upper arms.
The night air in late September held a chill. I could feel my nipples peak under the thin fabric of my tank top, and I thought about grabbing a sweater, but I stayed where I was. After I breathed deep, I spoke softly. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t look at me when he spoke, both of his hands were in his pockets, and his gaze was steadily focused on his feet. “I needed to talk to you.”
“Where’s your car?” My voice sounded hoarse.
His eyelids fluttered, sending dark, thick lashes over his gray eyes under the glow of the streetlights. “I had a couple of drinks, so I took an Uber.”
That must have been the first noise I heard.
“A couple?”
He swayed slightly and touched his fingers to his mouth. A small amount of blood dripped from the corner from when he’d dodged my swing and dove to the ground. Unbothered, he wiped it away. “Maybe a little more than a couple.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I said, “but I thought, well I’m not sure what I thought.” In retrospect, I hadn’t thought, and I felt a little ridiculous.
Jace chuckled, and when he did his gaze twisted, just a little, and it settled over my face. It moved over my hair, tied in a messy bun. Briefly over my body. Then back to my face. “Next time call the police. Not only could you have gotten hurt, but you have shitty aim. We should work on that.”
We?
Heat, all through me, just like that. I opened my mouth to speak but found no words. My breath hissed out. “I—” I started to say, but didn’t finish, or couldn’t was more like it because he was staring at my protruded nipples and licking his lips.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Do you want to come inside and I’ll make you some coffee?”
There was a slight hesitation on his part, but then I shivered when a gust of wind whipped by and he looked at the chill bumps on my arms and conceded. “I won’t stay long. Promise.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered, and then turned to go inside.
He took hold of the screen door and followed me, but when I turned to pull it shut, because it never closed on its own, I came face to face with him.
My breath caught. I swayed and closed my eyes for the briefest of moments. If he kissed me, I thought, I would crawl up his body and wrap myself around him. I would taste the liquor on his tongue and it would be delicious. I would rock myself against him and urge his hands to grip my ass and hold me closer.
If he kissed me.
But he didn’t.
When I opened my eyes, I saw that his were closed. His brows were furrowed too, as if fighting against some kind of pain. He opened his eyes when the screen door slammed closed, and when he did I saw desire, but I also saw something else.
Guilt.
Anxiety of some kind.
The alarm it shot off in my chest had me stepping back.
“I want to kiss you so much right now,” Jace said in a low, rough voice on the edge of breaking. He blinked rapidly and licked at the blood on his lip. “I just . . . want . . . so much . . .”
This I could see. And for the first time since setting eyes on him again after ten years, I began to believe he wanted me, but that dark side of him, that brooding side, didn’t know how to have me. How to get past whatever was stopping him.
Guilt.
It wasn’t something I could ease, though.
All I could do was be me.
I drew in a breath, my mind racing even as my heart thumped faster. “That’s not a good idea.”
It was a simple thing.
But I knew it wasn’t.
He wasn’t unwilling, just incapable.
Like me, I was sure, he knew it would never end at a kiss.
His fingers gripped the edge of the door and he leaned closer. I tipped my head to look at him, but he didn’t move. He stayed motionless except for the rise and fall of his breath.
“I’m drunk,” he said quietly.
The words struck me, and it was all I could do not to cry. I wanted to push him away, I wanted to hug him, but instead I offered my hand. “Come on, let’s get that coffee.”
In the kitchen, I concentrated on making coffee while my hands shook. I poured coffee grounds into the filter and added water. When I pulled the cups from the cupboard and set them on the kitchen table, Jace had his eyes trained on the cans of paints, drop clothes, and brushes that lined the walls.
He said nothing while I put the creamer and sugar on the table, although I knew he used neither.
“Thanks.” Jace pulled the cup toward him that I’d filled with coffee. Lifting it to his lips, he drank it black without a wince.
I opted for decaffeinated tea. After I stirred some creamer into it, I brought it to my mouth and found Jace’s gaze on me over the rim of his cup. I set my cup down and held it between my hands to both keep them warm and steady.
“Do you think we can do it?” he asked.
This I understand. “Absolutely. I know you didn’t meet with Perry and me when we discussed the testing criteria on Monday, but—”
He was shaking his head. “I’m not talking about work.”
I tiled my head to the side. “I’m sorry, do what exactly, then?”
At first, he said nothing. Then he gave me a slow smile, the kind he doled out sparingly. “Friends. Do you think we can be friends?”
Tension eased inside me, and I found my own smile. “I think we can be anything we want to be, so yes, I think that is possible.”
Again, he said nothing.
“Jace . . .” I began, stuttering on his name. “About what happened . . .”
The memory of feeling his lips on mine unfurled in my mind and I couldn’t stop the hitch of my breath or the thump of my heart.
I wanted to tell him how I felt. Ask him if I was wrong. See how he felt about it. But an emotion I couldn’t decipher flashed across his face, and everything about him went very still.
So I stopped.
His fingers turned the coffee cup. Turned and turned and turned. He leaned forward, shoulders hunching, and rested his elbows on the table. “Yeah. About that.”
Jace’s smile was gone. “That isn’t something I’m proud of, and I’d really like to forget it.”
“Yes, of course. Consider it forgotten.”
The tabletop was wooden and had a grain pattern in it that Jace seemed to be studying. When he looked up, his gaze was flat. “Thank you.”
I cleared my throat. Awkward.
“Do you need some help painting?” he asked.
I found my smile again. “Is it that painfully obvious?”
He shrugged. “How about I bring Scarlett over next Saturday and we bang out what we can?”
“I can’t ask you to do that?”
He raised a brow. “What if I need something in exchange?”
Now I raised a brow. “Is it in the friend zone?”
The smirk he tossed me sent fire blazing through my veins. “I’m not the same old Jace, you know, I don’t only think with my dick anymore.”
That got a laugh out of me. “I’ll take that as a yes. What is it that you need?”
He shifted in his chair. “Has Jonah talked to you about our date?”
I took another sip of my tea. “Nooooo?”
Nothing about his movements told me he was comfortable with this topic. “Scarlett wants her and I to take you and Jonah out for tacos tomorrow, and she’s calling it a date.”
It was my turn to be surprised. “I heard rumblings of tacos every morning, but the context wasn’t made clear.”
“So, will you come?”
“Sure, we can do that.”
Jace stood, and it was evident he had sobered up. “And one more thing.”
Grabbing the empty cups, I stood too. “We really need to work on that swing of yours. What do you say you join us on Friday nights, and I’ll throw in a little batting practice.”
With narrowed eyes, I stuck my tongue out at him and then walked to the sink. “How about I call you an Uber?” I offered.
“Already taking care of it,” he said, tapping on his phone. “And I’m serious. Come with us. It will be fun. As soon as it gets too cold, I thought we’d switch to basketball.”
Running the water to rinse the cups, I managed a, “I’ll think about it.” I couldn’t say much more for fear he’d hear the crack in my voice.
Jonah would be over the moon, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.
“My ride will be here any minute.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Give me a minute. I’ll walk you out.”
Standing awkwardly in the doorway, not looking at me, Jace had one shoulder pressed to the doorframe. One hand cupped the back of his neck as he studied the floor. When he did look up, his gaze skimmed my face. “I think I took enough of your time. I’ll pick you and Jonah up at six.”
I nodded.
“Lock the door behind me, and don’t use that bat again.”
The world stopped for the time it took him to walk out the front door, and I feared that feeling was not going to go away . . . even if we had agreed to be just friends.