Chapter Two
Ivy
What do you want to be known for?” Jace asks a few cookies later. His eyes are alight with curiosity and a hint of what could only be described as playfulness.
What a question. I grip the diner mug of candy cane hot chocolate and draw it closer, the rings of cocoa on the inside an indication of how long we’ve been here, enjoying each other’s company.
I’m down to the dregs, a swirl of cocoa and remnants of whipped cream hanging onto the sides, like I have been to every word Jace has said.
I’ve discovered he’s funny, interesting, and intelligent, asks riveting questions, and is clearly capable of creating with his hands.
In addition to being a boxing coach, he’s also a woodworker.
He’s told me that his dream is to own an artisan furniture business, and at that bit of information, I tried not to focus on said hands.
Jace looks at me as if he wants to never forget me.
The longer I sit with him, the safer I feel, despite the fact that he towers over me and could move me across the room in his arms better than any of the dancers I left behind in New York City.
The thought of dancing with Jace in any way sends heat climbing my neck.
I clear my throat to will away the foreign emotion.
I’ve felt attraction before. Of course I have.
But a sense of more accompanying the attraction is new.
As much as I love dance, I don’t often love being touched.
Ironic, considering how many times I get tossed and lifted during any one rehearsal or performance, but it’s true.
You have to earn my trust to get my affection, but then I give it with everything I have.
Which is why it’s shocking that I’m still here with Jace.
With other men, even Dmitri, I thought of them holding me, and everything got fuzzy, almost like the rest of the vision would have to play out only after they made a move.
But with Jace, I’m seeing our future play out like a movie in my mind.
I can picture the way his fingers would wrap around my chin to lift it so I could fully look at him.
I can see the warmth of his smile when my eyes widen at his touch.
I can feel the softness of his curls against my skin if he buried his face in my neck.
For the first time, I can feel it all even before I’ve lived it, and it makes me want more from a man than I’ve ever wanted in my life.
When Jace shifts on his side of the table, the movement pulls me out of my thoughts. His eyebrow lifts as he studies me, almost as if he can sense what I was just imagining.
“To be known for?” I barely get the words out, returning to his question.
He nods, a grin at play on his face. He’s on his third cup of coffee, while I’m holding on to my mug like it’s a lifeline.
The grip of my fingers around the ceramic says maybe if I don’t take the last sip, this evening will never end.
I look about the shop; there’s a hint of sugar and butter in the air, along with the scent of melted chocolate.
“Well, I mean, I’m a dancer. It’s what I’ve always been known for,” I finally answer with a smile, putting the more surface-level answer out there in case that was all he was after.
Recently, I’ve been on a stage almost every day, so I must be doing what I always wanted to be known for, even though the experience of life as a professional ballerina hasn’t been as satisfying as I’d hoped.
He shakes his head, somehow understanding I’m holding back. “The real answer.”
I laugh, disbelief lacing my voice. “You know, we still don’t know each other very well, and here you are, asking deep, soul-searching questions.”
“I’m trying to get to the real heart of your response. As for the questions, I want to really live, to ask the questions that matter. And something tells me you don’t want to settle for less than that either.”
Humming, my hand swirls the remnants of whipped cream in my mug as I wait for clarity.
What do I want to be known for? But though I think I don’t have an answer, I hear it, the whisper deep within my ribs.
Somehow, I will the courage to speak it.
Counterintuitively, looking into Jace’s eyes helps.
His gaze says I’m holding something he’s been searching for, and I dare to try to see if it’s true.
“It’s not so much what I want to be known for; it’s just that I want to be known in the first place,” I confess, casting my eyes down but glancing back up to find his warm face once more.
His torso leans even closer to me across the tiny wooden table. Well, it isn’t so much that the table is small as that he makes it look tiny in comparison to his strong frame.
“You can trust me,” he urges. “I’ll call my sister back if needed.” His wink tells me that he’s easing me into the truth, sensing I need the support.
I take a breath, his proximity giving me a hint of spice and something else that is soothing, like a calming forest at Christmastime.
And maybe it’s wishful thinking to reveal parts of my soul to a near-stranger, or maybe honesty is exactly what I need to get out of the general sense of heartache that’s been crushing me for months.
“I want to be known,” I admit. “Not just the facts or the feelings. I don’t want to be driven by the need to be perfect or think that if I could only fix one more flaw, I could be loved more in return.
Not only that, but I want to want to be held by someone, and I don’t want that person to ever let go.
If home can be found in a person, I want to find out. ”
The words rush out of me, stinging my throat and eyes.
I focus on the crumbs from the cookies we demolished an hour ago between us on the table, the sound of jazzy Christmas music playing softly through the speakers.
The taste of glorified chocolate milk lingers as I finally finish off the mug of what was once hot chocolate.
I’ve laid it all out there, and now I feel exposed.
There’s silence at the table, and I calculate how quickly I can grab my bag from between our feet on the floor.
How quickly can I make it around the corner and disappear into the streets of Birch Borough?
I know that wouldn’t play out because we have only one main street.
Instead, I play with the handle of the mug and keep my attention on my hands.
Suddenly, I see Jace’s large hand reach out to cover one of my own.
Immediately, the warmth of it releases the tension stuck in my system.
My eyes flash up to find his, the amber color arresting and intense, kindness hovering around the edges.
In the dim light of the cookie shop, I can almost believe the color is in motion, painting his emotions in real time.
“Like starlight,” he says, the richness in his voice like a blanket.
“What?” I don’t think I heard correctly.
“Like starlight. Sometimes, even in the noise and the pollution, you have to look for it, search for it. But once you see it above, you realize it’s the most beautiful light. It will always be where you are if you only look up.”
“Not the moon? Or the sun?” I reply with a smile, my heart jolting at the aftermath of his words.
“Overrated. Give me the gentle, steady light from the stars any night to remind me that the world still holds beauty.”
“You’re very smooth, you know that?”
He lets out a laugh before his grip, though still gentle, presses on my hand. “Ivy, don’t settle for anything less,” are the words he lays between us next. I cling to them, the unexpected permission to pursue my own kind of dream etching itself into my heart. “Promise me?”
And while I can’t imagine that my promise could mean anything to him this soon, I know I must find a way to hold on to it. “I promise,” I whisper.
He nods, his shoulders release, and his swoony smile returns to his face. “Now, tell me, has your voice always been this mesmerizing?” The humor returns to his tone.
There’s a sense of affection brewing and infusing my system with more energy than I know how to handle. I don’t care that it’s growing later and later, and I’ve ruined my rigid bedtime routine. For tonight, I’m free.
Finally, I can fully breathe after my confessions, and it feels right to order another cup of candy cane hot chocolate, fully intent on being here until the place closes down.
∞∞∞
After Jace’s fourth cup of coffee and my second hot chocolate, we step into the night once more.
The cold air snaps with even more frigid briskness after the warmth of the cookie shop.
We wander down the street, neither of us thinking of the time, talking like we’ve known each other forever.
Somehow, we find our way back to the ice-skating rink.
It’s empty, the lights hanging above the only illumination.
It’s freezing, and my red coat does little to keep out the chill.
Still, I don’t want to leave him. Something pulls at my soul, telling me that this moment is too good, and it will soon be gone, never to return to me.
It’s been a beautiful, fulfilling evening, full of surprises and exactly what I’ve needed. Jace’s hand moving to the small of my back grounds me in the moment. I turn toward him, willing this night to become a core memory.
What’s happening between us feels like wholesome intimacy.
It feels like time standing still, or perhaps I feel like the most gloriously bright version of myself.
I don’t want this night to end. My heart once again picks up speed like the train in our town moving down the tracks.
There’s a reason we’ve found each other tonight, and I pray I’ll know the answer to the questions I have for the future—if not tonight, then one day.