Chapter 22
PRESLEY
I need a soundtrack. A good one.
One that’s going to inspire me to get my ass in gear.
Swiping at my brow, I look around my living room, more excited than I should admit to that I can actually see the floor.
The very dirty floor, but I can see it nonetheless.
Thankfully, Otis went along with my makeshift “game” this morning to get all his toys picked up.
I have a long day of cleaning ahead, and the last thing I needed was to start the day with a fight.
Now, if he’ll play along with hanging out in his room and entertaining himself, I might be able to do this all today. Maybe. Hence my need for a soundtrack. A superb musical interlude to keep the blood flowing.
How did Barney Stinson put it when it came to his “Get Psyched” playlist? All rise? That’s what I need today—a playlist that is all rise.
Scrolling through my playlist, I settle on one that I think will work. At least, it’ll be a good start. Hitting play, I throw my head back as a strong guitar riff plays through the speakers. Ahhh, eighties rock at its best.
I get to work, losing myself in the music, keeping it at a reasonable volume so that I can still keep an open ear on Otis. Another reason this often ends up taking what feels like forever—my little “helper” getting involved.
“Doorbell!” Otis screams as he runs toward the door.
I jump, startled by his sudden presence and his super speed. Doorbell? Is he sure? I didn’t hear anything, so how could he?
“I got it!”
“Otis, wait…”
I seriously need to work with him on this…
I don’t bother to turn the stereo down, rushing after Otis like he’s a sheep that escaped the pen. My socks slide across the hardwood floor just in time to appear behind my kid as he struggles to open the door.
“Jace!” Otis squeals.
Jace…
My heart leaps, hovering in my throat as if waiting for me to choke on it. Chills rush over my skin, everything coming to a complete halt.
Jace is here.
“Hey, Little Man,” he greets, not skipping a beat.
Kneeling down to Otis’s level, he holds out his fist, his bright, disarming smile firmly in place.
Otis bumps knuckles, his little balled up hand looking so small compared to Jace’s, giggling his greeting.
“Do me a favor? Will you go get dressed while I talk to Mama for a second?”
I start to respond, my objection right on the tip of my tongue, but I’m cut off by the cute, squeaky voice that makes my heart squeeze.
“O-tay!”
Skittering off without a care, Otis disappears almost as quickly as he appeared in the first place. My pulse picks up even more, thumping in time with the beat of the music that is still playing, waiting for whatever comes next.
“Hi,” Jace says, as confident as ever, pushing to his feet.
“H-hi…” I stumble, my response a lot breathier than I intended. To the point where it almost can’t be heard over the music.
Oh shit, the music.
I hold up a finger, signaling him to wait a moment as I rush across the room and grab for my phone. I fumble it more than a little as I try to hit pause, my nerves shining through, but I finally manage to connect finger to screen, halting Journey’s live jam session.
“Sorry,” I say, turning back to the door. “I…”
I what? Don’t know what to say? Yeah, that’s obvious. Am wondering what on earth he’s doing here? That too. After the other night, I have no idea what he thinks there is left to say. I thought I was clear.
Guess I need to double down.
“Jace—”
“Me first,” he cuts me off. Making sure the front door is shut, he closes the gap between us. “I’m sorry.”
Errrr…come again?
I don’t think I heard him correctly. Did he…no. He didn’t just apologize. I’m hearing things. Making this all up in my head. The audio hallucinations have returned. This time without the orgasm.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t listen when you told me what you needed,” he continues without prompting.
There’s those two words again. So I’m not hallucinating. Sweet mercy…
But wait…when did I tell him what I needed that he didn’t listen?
“I’m sorry I tried to solve a problem that you didn’t have. I’m sorry I didn’t ask how I could help.”
I am so confused. I couldn’t have any less of an idea of what he’s talking about if you paid me. Although, I could use the money, so I’d at least try to fake it.
Jace must register my confusion, because he pauses, a single chuckle escaping as he shakes his head. Two more steps and he all but erases any space left between us, lightly placing his hands on my hips.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was adding things to your plate, rather than taking them off.”
Five. Jace has said sorry five times since walking through that door. All of which have been heartfelt.
Five heartfelt apologies that I don’t know how to react to.
Other than melt.
There’s no time for melting though.
“Jace, you have nothing to be sorry for. But I meant what I said—I’m not what you want.
My life is messy. It’s not wild and free, or fun, or anything like that.
It’s chores, and responsibilities, and a child who still doesn’t grasp that stranger danger means not just whipping open the front door, and—”
Yanking me into him, Jace cuts me off with a kiss. A hot, wet, punishing kiss that is still somehow gentle and reassuring. One that I feel all the way to my tippy toes, as if lightning were shooting out of each one. It steals my thoughts—and my breath—making everything else fade away.
“I know.” His whisper is quiet, gruff, and echoes down into me. Resting his forehead against mine, he tightens his grip on my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh. “But I also meant it when I said I got you. Because Pres, I got you. And Otis too.”
I got you…and Otis too…
Well, fuck me. Oh, wait, he’s done that. Rather well too.
I should tell him to go. I should start rebuilding the wall that he’s managing to tear down brick by brick. But something inside me is screaming that I should trust him. A little voice way down in the bottom of my gut.
“I got you something.” Jace steps back, just enough for cool air to whoosh in between us, making me shiver.
Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out a book.
He looks at it for a split second, a smile tugging at his lips, before he hands it to me.
Against A Wall, by Cate C. Wells. I’ve never heard of it.
Then again, I haven’t had a ton of time for reading recently, so I’m sure there are lots of books in this world I’ve never heard of.
“It’s one of my favorites.” Jace clears his throat. “They hated each other in high school because he was a jackass and well…you have to read it to see what happens.”
Tears prick the corner of my eyes and my heart squeezes. On top of apologizing, he’s handing me a piece of himself via one of his favorite books. Holy shit.
Maybe he really is in this.
“I went through and made some notes in the margins at all the good parts.” He laughs, running his hand through his hair. “And no, I don’t just mean the sexy bits. Although, those got notes too. But it’s not just them.”
“Thank you. This means a lot. I’ll try to make some time to read it.”
Jace whips his head up to look me in the eye, his face suddenly as stone-cold serious as I’ve ever seen it.
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Mama. You don’t need to try. Because you have all day today to get it done.”
What?! Is he insane? I have to clean. It’s like he didn’t listen to a word I said.
“Jace, I have to—”
“You have to go change, because there is a car waiting for you outside to take you away from here. To give you the break you deserve.”
And here he goes again. So much for all those apologies. He really does not understand the meaning of I have to clean my house. He must think that I have a whole cast of small woodland creatures to help shoulder the burden like I live in some cartoon fairy tale.
“No.” I stand firm—I am not going through this again. “I have to clean this place. I have to—”
“You have to go get changed and get in the car.” His voice is stern, matching the look on his face. “Presley, how many times do I have to say it? I got you. Which means I’ve got this. Otis and I will take care of anything that needs doing, while you go have yourself a break.”
I start to object, but Jace holds up a hand, stopping me.
“I will pick you up and put you in that car myself if I have to.”
Well, now that’s a threat.
“Where are you sending me? And what about Otis?” I continue to object.
“Mama?” Otis calls, appearing out of nowhere, as if on cue. “Curious George?”
“Little Man, what do you say we have a guys’ day, while Mama goes and does her thing?” Jace asks, picking him up and resting him on his hip.
Otis lights up, all thoughts of the squeaky little monkey gone. “Yeah!”
“It’s unanimous then.” Jace smiles like a man who got his way, those brown eyes sparkling with delight. “The council has spoken, or whatever it is they say on that castaway show.”
“Survivor.” I spit out the answer reflexively. “And it’s the tribe has spoken.”
“Right. Well, your tribe has spoken. Go get changed.”
My tribe…Jace just called himself my tribe. He voted himself onto the island…
Swooning, I take his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “At least give me some kind of hint? And what do you plan to do all day with—”
“Pres.” Shifting, he readjusts Otis on his hip, giving me a mockingly stern look. “Do you trust me?”
“I—”
“Pres…do you trust me?”
I don’t even need to think. “Yes.”
“Then trust me. Go change. Wear something comfy. Little Man and I are gonna be just fine. Right, buddy?” Emphatically nodding, my son wiggles in Jace’s arms, doing his happy dance. If that’s not a telltale sign, I don’t know what is. “Tell Mama bye-bye and we’ll see her later.”
“Bye-bye, Mama!” Otis opens and closes his hand to wave goodbye, almost dismissing me.
Well then…I guess I’m off on a mystery adventure…