Chapter 6 Lannie
SIX
LANNIE
“So how do we do this?” Jace asks, shifting nervously. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Jace nervous. It’s cute. He used to be nervous around me all the time.
I consider his words. “What are you looking for in a guy?”
“Geesh, Lannie,” he says with a laugh. “I don’t know.”
“Your perfect guy. Come on. You’ve never thought about it?”
We’re in his living room. I’m sitting on the worn couch and Jace is curled up in an oversized comfy chair. As far away from me as he can get.
Where did that thought come from?
He jumps up as if he’s on a mission, but then circles the chair and stands there. “This isn’t easy to talk about.”
A memory pops up from when Jace was in high school.
“Are you mentoring that guy?” I shoot the basketball and miss.
Jace gets the rebound and does a perfect layup. He grins because he’s competitive as fuck. “That guy? You mean, Mason?”
I dribble the ball and slow things down. “The one you were studying with today.”
He shrugs, getting in my space. I turn to protect the ball. “More like he’s mentoring me.”
“In what?” Jace is the smartest person I know.
Instead of answering, he slips a hand in and steals the ball. He shoots, but it bounces off the rim. I get the rebound and take the shot. It’s good. Jace scowls and shakes his head. “You’re distracting me.”
“Excuses.”
As he dribbles the ball, he zigzags to lose me. “I…um…like him.”
I’ve been circling, looking for a chance to steal, but his words stop me. “Oh. You’re…um…”
He bounces the ball again and then holds it in his hands. “I’m into guys. Is that a problem, Lannie?”
“What? No. Of course not. Thank you for telling me.” I groan at that. But Jace laughs. His smile is back in place.
He dribbles the ball but doesn’t move around. “You’re the first.” His eyes meet mine. “The first person I’ve told.”
It means a lot that he trusts me. “Not even Mason?” I ask to lighten the mood.
He throws the ball, making a three-pointer, and gives me that small grin. “He guessed.”
“Lannie?” Jace is watching me, so I refocus on him.
“Basketball.”
“What about it?” He folds his arms over his chest.
I stand and snap my fingers. This could work. “Competition.”
Jace has always been easy to read. This look—with his brow raised and his lips slightly parted—is the one he gives me when he thinks I’ve lost it. “Throwing out random words now?”
“Not random. It’s easier to talk when we’re doing something. Like basketball.”
“Right.” He scrubs his face with his hands. “It’s a little late to go to the Y.”
“And competition. You like guys who are competitive.”
“Uuuuuu.” He turns and walks away.
“Hold up.” I follow him into the kitchen. “Why am I getting the buzzer? And what are you doing?”
He opens a cabinet and closes it again. The kitchen is small with the basics: stove, fridge, sink, but no tables or chairs.
It’s obvious this isn’t where they eat most of their meals.
In the middle of the counter is a statue of a naked man, torso only.
And where an arm would be, if he had one, is a hook with keys attached.
It’s almost a bronze color, and I bet Jace could tell me the exact shade.
An entire bookcase in the Smitt home is dedicated to Jace’s pottery, and I also have a shelf in my home.
“Did you make this?”
“Focus, Lannie.” He takes the statue out of my hand and returns it to its place next to the coffeemaker.
“What am I focusing on?”
He slams another cabinet shut. “I’m starving and there’s nothing here to eat.”
“We could go out.”
He drops his arms and sighs. “Tried that—didn’t go so well.” He grins that grin. “And I’d hate to ruin another shirt.”
“That’s fair.” I’m so distracted that I’m not even sure what I’m saying. Jace has these slight indentations—not quite dimples—on his face when he smiles. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep them still.
He touches my sleeve, rubbing the material between his fingers. “Is this new? The color matches your eyes.”
“Um, thanks. I just got it a few days ago.” Why is it so hot in here?
As he traces the seam of the cuff, his fingers brush my skin, causing a weird reaction in my body.
“Nice,” he says, and our eyes meet.
He’s close. In my space. Something that normally only happens when we’re guarding each other in basketball. It’s definitely too hot in here.
My heart beats faster, like someone’s dribbling it. But the moment stretches, slowing everything down.
Jace ducks his head. “My perfect guy is generous, sweet, has a nice smile…” He grins, and I can see the edge of it. “And a nice ass.”
He’s still touching my wrist, and every nerve in my body is connected to that point. I swallow so I can talk. “Anything else? Tall. Short. Muscular?”
I can only see one side of his face, but that cheek pinkens. “Honestly? That stuff is nice, but I want someone I can laugh with. Someone I can just…be myself with. No drama. Unless we’re playing cards.”
“Competitive.” My voice is as soft as his. Like we’re in our own little bubble, and if we talk too loudly, it will burst.
“Nothing wrong with wanting to win, Lannie.”
I close my eyes, needing a moment. It’s like standing in the aviary with the birds flying above my head.
Majestic. Graceful. Bright, colorful wings.
And the sounds. The flutter of wings. The sharp cheeps of the finches.
The chirrup chirrup of the parakeets. Their songs full of hope.
Joy. I feel alive. As if I can soar above it all.
I’ve never shared that with anyone. And now, being with Jace—I shake my head.
“What?”
I blink. His forehead crinkles, and I want to smooth it with my fingers. “You’re so—” I stop. What the hell am I doing? This is Jace.
“What?” He squeezes my wrist. “Now you have to tell me.”
You’re beautiful. But I can’t say that. “You’re so grown up.”
His laugh is short. Abrupt. “That happens, Lannie.”
Standing this close, breathing in the scent of Jace and coconut—and something citrusy—I can’t stop the words I’ve been holding in all night. “I’ve missed you.”
He closes his eyes. “You can’t say that to me.”
“Why? It’s true.”
He shakes his head. Did I ruin everything? Then he opens his eyes and smiles, and it’s so…Jace. I swallow again. Before I can do anything else, he slides his hand into mine and squeezes. “I’ve missed you too. Let’s go.”
“Where? To a restaurant?”
“Nope.” He drags me out of the kitchen. “A bar. How else are you going to help me pick a guy?”
“Right.” Disappointment sits in my chest. Is it because I don’t really enjoy going out? Or do I want Jace to myself for a little longer?
I drive so Jace can drink. He names off different bars, but I let him pick. I don’t care.
“How about Come Hither? It’s a gay bar.”
“I figured. We’re not looking for me.”
After that, he’s quiet until we get there. The place is packed. But it’s Friday night, so that’s expected. Inside the bar, there’s too much…everything. People. Noise. Activity.
Jace seems right at home. He’s lived in the city for the last four years. Why wouldn’t he be comfortable?
There aren’t any tables available, so we find open spots at the bar.
“Hey there.” The guy leans closer to Jace. He’s cute. Muscled. And maybe just a bit too friendly. “What’s your name, cutie?”
Jace freezes. “Oh, um…hi.” He laughs. “Jace. I mean. That’s my name. Jace,” he finishes with a weak smile.
“Well, Jace, you’re adorable.” He leans in even closer, and I shift to hear his words. “I could just eat you up.”
Jace laughs, but it has an edge of panic in it. “Excuse me.”
He rushes off, and I give him a few minutes before I follow. I find him outside, leaning against the building with his head in his hands.
“What was that?” I ask as gently as I can. Which isn’t that gentle if his glare is anything to go by.
“He’s just… He’s not…” He trails off, and I don’t press.
“He came on pretty strong. I think your instincts were correct.”
“Instincts. Yeah.”
After a moment, he nods, and we go back inside. Then it happens again. And again. Every time a guy starts talking to him, Jace freezes or stumbles his way through the exchange. The guys don’t seem to mind, but Jace bolts every time.
We’re back outside watching throngs of people enjoying the nightlife.
“What’s going on, Jace?”
“I told you. I’m not good at this. I tried okay. Not just now but before. And you witnessed the disaster with Felix.”
I study his face. “You want my thoughts?”
“No.” Then he sighs. “Fine.”
“The thing I noticed, besides the fact that the guys in St. Louis are way too friendly, is that you’re a mess.”
He laughs and rubs his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”
“The Jace I know is confident. Sure.” He doesn’t respond to that. “Talk to me, Jace.”
“God, Lannie. I just…I don’t know what I’m doing.”
His words. His bright red cheeks. “You’re still a virgin?”
He shushes me, his eyes wide. A girl walking by says, “Bet,” and gives him a high-five.
“Oh my God.” Jace turns and faces the building.
It doesn’t surprise me. Although Suz had worried he was “putting himself at risk” due to something she heard from Ruby, who heard it from Nikki. Evidently, they were all wrong.
“It’s not just that,” Jace whispers, running his fingers over the grooves in the brick. He doesn’t look at me at all. “I have zero experience.”
I want to ask how that’s possible. All those dates. Jace is hot. Even straight, I can see that. But my heart beats faster for some reason. “None? You’ve never kissed anyone?”
He turns to face me. “I’ve kissed guys before, Lannie. Geesh.”
“Okay.” I lift my hands. “Sorry.”
“I just suck at it.” He stares at my shirt for a while. Then he raises his chin and his eyes meet mine. “You didn’t sign up for this. We can just pretend it never happened.”
“Hold on.” I grab his arm as he moves past me. “I said I’d help, and I will.”
He laughs. “How? By finding a guy who wants to kiss me?”
“That wouldn’t be hard,” I say, unable to hide my irritation. There’s a line of guys in that bar who’d love to kiss Jace. Hell, they’d love to teach him how to kiss. And I can’t let that happen. Jace is innocent. Sweet. And they’re all piranhas. “But that’s not what I had in mind.”
“Then what?” Several guys dressed like punk rockers jostle him as they walk past. Is that back in style?
Taking his hand, I pull him closer. “I want to teach you how to kiss.”