Page 119 of Nash

Playing along, I get dressed and wrap myself in a plush white robe before venturing downstairs.

“Hey.” Jace doesn’t look up from his laptop.

I glance around the first floor. “Where is everyone?”

“Not here yet.”

“Where’s Nash?”

“With Grant. He’ll be back soon.”

I study Jace’s profile. Black ink on his thick neck peeks from under his starched white collar. His inked fingers click and tap, securing the fake footage for tonight.

It’s just him and me and a conversation we need to have.

“So, about you fucking me.”

His thick fingers pause over the keys. He doesn’t look up. “Yeah?”

“You okay with it? We’ll be cool after?”

“Cool?” he chuckles. “Is this a John Hughes film? Are you giving me your diamond earring afterward?”

“Gah,” I sigh. “I love that you’re his biggest fan.”

I know so much about Jace.

He loves Blair’s paranormal romance books. He can max rep three hundred and seventy pounds on a deadlift—whatever the hell that means. I just hear him bragging to Grant about it. He loves peanut butter and hates bananas. He owns a Nikon and collects photography books. He’s a hopeless romantic who, by my count, has broken nine noses outside the door of the sex club.

Now, I realize he did it for his mom, punishing the men who broke her rules.

But this? Me and him? I don’t know how he feels.

“I’m fine with it,” he answers, setting his laptop on the stool beside him.

“Finewith it?” I roll my eyes. “Jeez, I’m not a wallpaper pattern you have to live with.”

He grins, finally meeting my eyes. “Have you seen yourself, fox? You arefine. Fine as fuck. Don’t tell Nash. He’ll kill me, and I wouldn’t blame him.”

“But me and you.” I point between us. “Our friendship. I cherish it and don’t want to lose it.”

“You will lose it,” he says stoically. “I’ll be more than your friend. I’ll be your second husband. That means if we lose Nash,” the thought clenches my heart, “I’ll protect you and take care of you … if it’s what you want.”

I shuffle in my Mary Janes, worried. Not about my love for Nash. I’ll always worry something will happen to him. But now, I worry I’ll hurt Jace, too. “What if you get feelings for me?”

“I already got ‘em.” He cocks his thick brow. “I told you; I love you, but not like Nash. No man loves you as much as him. But I’ll kill anyone to keep that smartass mouth of yours alive.”

I bat my lashes. “It is pretty brilliant, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he huffs, amused. “You’re brilliant, and you belong with Nash. He’s so fucking in love with you, and we’ve known it for years. It’s about time you’re his queen.”

“What about you? Who do you belong with?”

I’ve never seen Jace with anyone. I’ve seen him invite hotties home, but for all I know, he fed them Reese’s peanut butter cups while they watchedThe Breakfast Club.

Jace spins the platinum ring on his pinky. “I belong with my family. I was seven when we got out. This scar,” he points to the one down his cheek, “is courtesy of my father. It’s what he gave me for picking up my baby brother when he was crying.” Pain, tinged with rage, storms his blue eyes. “The only reason we survived him is because we did it together.

“When I got older, I was the first one who saw our mom’s scars. She’s a proud woman who hid them well. But one morning, I needed toothpaste and barged into her bathroom and saw her in the shower. I saw her back and what our father did to her,” he swallows, “and I’ve never been the same.”

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