I pace nervously around the small executive airport. Jace’s plane was supposed to land ten minutes ago and there’s still no sign of him, or of it.

I check the time on my phone again and tell myself to relax. There are still three hours until the wedding, and even with the hour it will take to make it out to Luke’s place, that still leaves plenty of time. He’ll make it.

He has to.

Martin had been able to call in a favor with one of his clients and get Jace on a private executive plane. He hadn’t exactly been thrilled about doing me a favor, but I reminded him that he owed me. The bastard still made me swear to never throw another baked good at him. I’d promised, but I was already mentally cataloging other things I could throw it him the next time I saw him. Preferably sharp and pointy things.

Still, I have to admit that I’m grudgingly grateful. Now Jace won’t miss the wedding … and there’s at least a slim chance that we can move past all of this.

That slim chance is all that’s keeping me going right now. I check my phone again and try to fight down the wave of nervous bile that’s filling my stomach.

I peer out the window, up through the clear sky. There isn’t a cloud for miles, and I scan the blue expanse, looking for anything that might be Jace’s plane.

I squint at a tiny black dot that seems to come out of nowhere. At first I think it’s just a speck of dust, and I even rub the window with the side of my hand. But the speck gets bigger, and I hold my breath.

It’s a plane. I think it might be him.

Only instead of being relieved, I now feel more nervous than ever.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jace comes striding across the tarmac. He’s the only one on the plane, besides the crew, and he looks so lonely out on the wide open stretch of asphalt. I want to run to him, to wrap my arms around, to kiss him and tell him that I’m the stupidest person on the planet and that he can even throw muffins at me if he’ll just forgive me.

But I don’t do any of those things.

Instead I stand there waiting, tapping my foot and twisting at a lock of my dark hair, until he’s finally inside the airport.

When he finally steps inside, his eyes scan the room until they land on me. There’s a moment where I think everything’s going to be okay. There’s a look of relief in his eyes. Not just relief either, but longing and … hope.

But as soon as it appears, it’s gone again. His face turns grim and he strides over to me. “We need to get to the hotel.”

“I have a cab waiting.”

We walk in silence out of the airport. The cab driver that I’d hired is still sitting there, fiddling on his phone and listening to some sort of Korean pop music. I had paid him to stay here and wait for me, because I didn’t want to risk wasting time when Jace landed. Come hell or high water, I am making sure that man gets to the wedding.

But the entire way back to the hotel, Jace won’t even look at me. He stares out the window, his thigh vibrating as he shakes his knee up and down impatiently. His body seems harder than usual, his muscles coiled and tense. The heat of him next to me usually sends me into a tailspin, but today it just makes me feel lonely and sad.

I want to apologize but the words feel stuck in my throat. Mostly I’m just scared though. Because what if I apologize and it’s still not enough? What if he hates me?

I can’t exactly blame him if he does. I had made such a mess of this weekend — he’s probably counting down the hours until we’re back in New York and he can safely avoid me forever.

So instead of apologizing, I just knot my fingers nervously in my lap and stare out the window, telling myself that I’ll talk to him after the wedding, and praying that there’s still a chance for us.

* * *

The wedding is at Luke’s place, but the wedding party is gathering at the Grand Windsor Hotel to get ready and take some pre-ceremony photos, so that’s where we have the cab take us.

As soon as we get there, Jace heads straight for the elevators. I follow him because I’m not sure what else to do with myself, but I hesitate when he steps inside.

He hits the button for his floor and then turns around to look at me. I’m still standing outside the elevator, looking on nervously.

Something twists in Jace’s face, and then he jerks his chin, gesturing for me to come inside with him. I step gratefully into the interior of the elevator, and the door slides smoothly closed behind me.

The elevator suddenly feels very small, even with just the two of us in it. Jace is wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans — he must have changed after he got back from the restaurant last night. God, was that really only last night?

The elevator stops at our floor, the one where we’d been staying together. Jace gets out and I follow along behind him like a sad little puppy. When we get to the room, his stuff is all still there — I guess he didn’t check out last night. The suit he’d been wearing at dinner is balled up in a pile on the floor.

I want to be helpful so I go to the closet and pull out the bag that holds his tuxedo. He takes it from me wordlessly, unzipping it and pulling out the crisply pressed fabric.

I sit on the bed as he changes. I can’t help but watch his sculpted body as he undresses, remembering all the times my fingers have grazed across his skin, the way his muscles tensed and flexed when he fucked me, the solid comforting weight of him in the bed next to me. A pang of loneliness rings out in my heart, even though he’s standing just a few feet away from me. How is it that you can be so close to someone and still feel so far apart?

When he’s finished changing, he turns to face me.

“Look okay?” He asks. He’s got a half-grin and it’s sweet and charming and self-effacing and all I want to do is kiss it right off his face. I stand up and take a few tentative steps towards him, then reach out and straighten the yellow bow-tie.

“You look amazing,” I tell him truthfully. Jace might be a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy, but God, he looks hot in a suit.

His grin deepens, carving out a dimple in one cheek.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

For a moment we do nothing but look at each other. My hands are still holding onto the ends of his tie — they seem almost frozen there. Afraid to move any further, but equally afraid to move away. The silence between us grows until it feels like an unbreachable chasm.

Jace glances down at his watch.

“Shit. I have to go. I was supposed to meet Trent ages ago for photos.” He grins ruefully. “I told him I was getting a haircut.” He runs his hand across the top of his head, to the clearly uncut hair.

I actually laugh. “He’ll be so preoccupied with the wedding, he won’t even notice,” I assure him.

“You’re probably right about that.” He pauses, and then takes a step backwards. I let go of his tie. He’s already walking towards the door.

Just before he goes, though, he turns back to face me one more time. I can’t read the expression that’s written on his face.

“We’ll talk later, okay?” He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t.

“Okay.” My voice is a whisper.

And then he’s gone.