Chapter 11 Jace #2
“But it wasn’t necessary. I had the high card. You don’t over-trump your partner.”
Ruby stands, jostling the table. She throws her cards down, and then, as if that’s not enough, she mixes all the cards on the table together.
Effectively ending the game. “There,” she says, and I swear she has tears in her eyes.
“You’re not the most important person in this family, Jace.
” She runs off, and moments later, the door to her room slams.
“Wait, is there crying in Rook?”
I jump to my feet, the words there before I can stop them. “Shut up, Colton. Go back to your video game.”
Mom stares at me, her mouth open, and I expect anger—I can deal with anger—but the tears are too much.
I stand there uselessly. Still full of rage at the unfairness of it all.
But I also feel helpless with Ruby’s words on repeat in my head and the wounded looks I’m getting from Colton.
I need to apologize, but I can’t speak. Can’t move.
Luella studies her iced tea like it contains the secrets to playing Rook. Lannie stands, his expression unreadable. “Jace, can I speak to you?”
I nod. God, I’ve fucked up. I’m ashamed of my actions, but I also need to yell and scream at Lannie. I turn toward the kitchen.
“Outside,” he says in a hard voice.
My eyes dart to his face. His jaw is tight—his entire body tense—and I swallow my anger. “Fine.” Well, maybe not all of it.
I stomp out the door. On the porch, I turn. He shakes his head and walks to his house. I follow him through his front door, trying not to think about being here the night before. At this point, we’ve christened every piece of furniture he has. Or tried to.
Once we’re inside, his glare holds me in place. “What’s going on?”
I open my mouth, but everything I want to say—scream—sounds lame. Childish.
You’re my partner. My boyfriend.
Pressing my lips together, I shake my head.
Lannie lets out a frustrated sound. “This is your chance, Jace. Yell at me. No one can hear us.”
My voice is calm. “You like her.”
“What?” He laughs, but it’s short. Abrupt. Not his real laugh. “She’s nice. But I don’t like her like her—oh, for Christ’s sake, Jace. There’s no reason to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” I say, stubbornly. “Not just jealous. I’m…envious.”
“What? Why?”
“Because she gets to have what I want—” I stop because I’m not explaining it well. And what’s the point anyway?
“It’s just a card game. One we’ll play many times.”
“It’s not about the cards, Lannie!” Now I’m yelling. I swing my arms wide. He’s being obtuse, and I’m not sure if it’s real or an act, but I’m done. “She can smile at you. And flirt with you. And…” The rage seeps out of me, leaving me drained.
“You’re the one I—” He stumbles over his words. “I care about you, Jace. You.” He grabs my hands and kisses my fingers, his eyes pleading. “She’s not the one I want.”
“I know.” I squeeze his hands and drop them, giving him a sad smile. “But she’s the one my parents will accept.”
His face falls. “Jace, sweetheart. Do you want to tell them about us?” he asks, but his words are hesitant. Careful. As if he’s afraid I might say yes.
“No.” And it’s true. After the way his parents disowned him, I can’t do that to him. “Do you?”
“No.” His eyes are sad. Heartbroken. “But it’s not for the reason you think.”
It doesn’t matter the reason. It won’t change anything. “I’m sorry I yelled.”
“I told you to yell, remember? I took you far enough away so you could yell.”
“True.” I smile. It’s the response he wants. “We should get back.”
When I move for the door, Lannie grabs my arm and his eyes search my face. “Wait. Is this— Are you breaking up with me?”
“Over a game of Rook? No.” I try to make light of it. And then an awful thought hits me. “Do you want to break up?”
His eyes widen. “No. Not at all. But you yelled at me and…this is the first time we’ve been in a room alone without you kissing me.”
I cradle his face in my hands and kiss him. A soft, sweet kiss lacking the usual heat. And I’m reminded of Lannie teaching me how to kiss. My eyes sting as I pull back and then surge forward to kiss him again.
I should end this now. How can it ever work between us? But I’m not strong enough to give him up.
We go back to the game, and I play nice. And the next day, I pack my bag. Mom’s not happy that I’m returning to school early, but I need time to myself. And the apartment will be empty.
I should say goodbye to Lannie in person. But he’ll ask me to stay, and I’m afraid I’ll give in. I need to process everything. As long as we’re hiding our relationship, this will keep happening. But the thought of telling my parents terrifies me.
So I wait until I’m out of town to send a text. And that gives me the perfect reason for not responding. I’m driving. It doesn’t explain why I don’t answer his calls. I know he’ll keep calling.
Once I’m at home, in my apartment, I check my phone. Ten messages. And two missed calls.
Not bothering to unpack, I grab the pint of mint chocolate-chip ice cream from the freezer, settle on my bed, and wrap myself in warm, comfy blankets.
Lannie must be freaking out, and I hate that. I meant what I said. I’m not breaking up with him. Just processing.
I’ve always been goal-oriented. And for the longest time, my goal has been the same. Get over my crush on Lannie.
Goal accomplished.
My crush is gone. I’m no longer that starry-eyed kid. I see Lannie and all his faults. Why does he have to be nice to everyone? And his need for constant approval drives me bonkers, but I also completely understand.
And he still doesn’t know how to play Rook.
My tears fall into my ice cream, and I don’t even care.
When I was crushing on Lannie, I would do anything to be with him. And now, that’s no longer true.
The stakes are too high. If Lannie wants to openly be with me, he has to risk the one thing he’s always wanted. A family that loves him.
I can’t take that away from him.
I’ll keep us a secret as long as he wants. Until he realizes he can’t have both. And when he chooses my family over me, I’ll gladly—but not happily—support him.
Because this isn’t a crush.
I’m hopelessly in love with Lannie Reynolds.
And love fucking sucks.