20. Jace
twenty
Jace
Sienna Jones was not in fact “born ready”, after her fourth attempt at doing the keg herself, successfully shooting beer up her nose. I pull her away from the keg, trying to mask my laughter.
The frustrated pink haired girl pouts as she’s successfully taken away from the large barrel.
“Wait! The videos said that I need to do it like this!” she exclaims, her pout deepening as I roll my lips in trying hard not to laugh in her face—and failing.
“Babe it’s a keg, not open heart surgery.” I laugh as she glares at me.
Sienna huffs, her small body turning in an instant to face the monster of a keg next to us.
“I don’t need your stupid help, anyways! I am a powerful queen…” she says, slurring her words as she positions herself in a perfect handstand once again, doing the exact same thing that resulted in her getting a shot of beer up her nostrils.
Chuckling quietly, knowing that laughing will only hurt her feelings more, I take a step back.
Sienna’s handstand is flawless thanks to her years of gymnastics as a kid. I grimace, thinking of the summer she convinced Ryan and I to do it with her.
I can still remember the leotard wedgies we had… Eugh.
She’s positioned in a perfectly straight handstand, but the longer she stays like that, the more she shakes on the keg.
This is not how you do a keg stand…not in the slightest.
Crouching to where her face is, I smirk up at her as she groans, “Need help? ”
“Fuck…off,” she replies shakily, getting more beer in her nose this time around, her legs begin to teeter in the air and I’m on my feet in an instant, holding them steady and pulling them to an angle so she doesn’t drown herself.
In seconds, a crowd forms, cheering her on as she does the keg stand like a champ, chugging it. By the time she’s done, there’s people cheering for her and someone has gotten her a paper towel.
“Girl, you did that!” some random girl shouts as I escort her back into the house, parking her in the kitchen.
“More drinks puh-lease !” she shouts from next to me, I flinch as I hoist her up onto the kitchen island by her waist. I know my way around the Omega house after spending a considerable amount of time here, gaming with some of the guys who live here.
“Stay here,” I command the girl, and she grins up at me, a flame sparking beneath her hazel eyes as she salutes me.
“Yes, sir.” She nods sassily, making my cheeks warm as I leave her on the island to find some more napkins and liquor for her.
I promised myself, and her, that I would be sober. And after only taking a single shot almost an hour ago, I’m sober as hell. My only job tonight is to make sure my girl has fun and is taken care of.
A loud drill song plays as I’m looking through the different liquor bottles for something that won’t mix badly with the liquor already in her system when a familiar giggle rings through my ears.
It’s Sienna’s.
What could she possibly be laughing—
A tall, brown-skinned guy stands in front of Sienna, towering over her. Her and I aren’t officially together. No matter how much I “manifest” it, we haven’t made anything official.
So why does my heart feel like it’s about to be ripped out at the sight of another guy talking to her? Anger courses through my veins as the dickhead caresses her face gently, and I’m not thinking as I make my way over, her drink in hand .
“My boyfriend is not gonna yike that…” she slurs, loud enough for me to hear, warming my heart and heightening my anger as the asshole responds, “I don’t see him around,” shrugging carelessly.
Don’t do it.
Don’t do it…
Don’t hit him.
He places a hand on her bare thigh, and Sienna flinches, trying to slip away, but he grips her tighter.
In less than a second, he’s on the ground and my knuckles burn from sucker punching the asshole. The burn of the punch sends a smile to my face. It was well deserved, but did you hear what she said?
Sienna just called me her boyfriend! I need to get that printed and hung up somewhere.
On this day, Sienna Sola Jones, publicly announced to a stupid ass guy at a party that Jace Eros Heart is the love of her life.
Maybe I can get that printed at CVS or something…
Sienna’s eyes are bright and wide as I slide the last shot of the night to her. I watch as she quickly downs it and holds her arms up for me. In an instant, my hands are on her waist, picking her up off the counter and placing her heel clad feet back on the ground.
“That was a good one, Jacey…Take me home?” she asks lazily, slurring a bit as she pats my cheek softly.
Chuckling lightly at her, I hold her hand, kissing the palm. “With pleasure.”
Sienna steps over the guy on the ground, who’s still clutching his face as I follow behind her.
This girl is making me insane…in less than a month, I’ve punched two guys on her behalf and feel zero remorse about it. For Sienna, I’d walk through the pits of Hell just to see her smile. Punching an asshole at a party is nothing.
By the time we’re safely in the car and on the way to my apartment, I realize Sienna is asleep, her head at a weird angle where her neck looks like it’d been snapped as she lets out soft snores.
When I get to a red light, I immediately turn on her seat warmer to combat the short dress she’d been wearing in fifty degree weather.
It’d been warmer when we left, but the chilly fall night is now upon us.
Leaning over, I try to position her differently to prevent her neck from hurting as she shifts.
Our noses are practically touching, my skin heating around my cheeks and neck as she blows out a mint and alcohol flavored breath.
She looks so peaceful when she sleeps. Her nose twitches just a bit, and soon enough she’s changing her position, cuddling her knees in the seat.
Careful to not wake her, I chuckle softly and begin driving when the light changes.
It takes little to no time for me to get Sienna out of the car without waking her, considering she’s a pretty heavy sleeper.
I carry her bridal style from the car to the top floor where the loft is located, making sure not to bump her against anything.
Sienna only shifts once in my arms, her breathing changing as she adjusts herself before she’s out like a light once again.
Carefully, I take off her shoes and place them down on the rack next to the door that she always ignores. Sienna may be the biggest perfectionist in the world, but she never puts her shoes on the rack. I like to keep everything neat. No mess, no bugs.
I may be an artist and a hockey player, but the thought of messiness makes my skin crawl.
As I carry Sienna up the stairs of the loft, I grimace as I realize what she has on.
She’d taken off the gym shorts when when we got to the car, leaving only the sparkly dress on.
There’s no way in this world she’d be comfortable sleeping in this dress, but there’s also no way in hell that I’d take off her clothes while she’s asleep and drunk.
This isn’t that kind of party.
I cringe as I lay her down on the bed in her outside clothes.
She’s going to be so uncomfortable . I plant a soft kiss on Sienna’s forehead before going into the bathroom.
Picking up the supplies I’d bought yesterday after practice, I make my way back out to the bedroom with a large purple bonnet, makeup remover, a wash cloth, and face wash .
I’m careful as I lift Sienna’s head, cradling it in my lap.
When we were kids, her and Cleo taught me how to braid their hair as a way to get me to stop bothering them all the time.
Her hair is soft as I gather it in my hands, separating it into two sections to braid, mindful to not comb out her curls with my fingers.
It takes almost ten minutes to braid two plaits in her hair without waking her, but I do it successfully and put the purple bonnet I’d bought yesterday on her head to protect her hair as she sleeps.
She looks like an adorable, sparkly mushroom with her matching light purple dress. Softly, I kiss her temple and then get to work on her face, gently taking off her makeup and wiping her face down with a wet washcloth with cleanser on it.
By the time I’m done pampering her for bed, twenty minutes have passed.
It doesn’t take any time for me to shower and throw on an SFU hoodie and sweats.
I’m careful as I slide in the bed beside her and sigh as I make myself comfortable.
Sienna breathes heavily, deep in sleep. A singular curl pokes out of her bonnet, framing her sleeping face and my chest tightens.
She’s a work of art, whether awake or asleep, Sienna’s beauty is captivating, my fingers itch to draw. They itch to hold a pencil and capture this woman in all of her essence. Setting her in this moment on a blank page.
Sienna has been my muse all of my life. I’ve filled pages and pages of sketchbooks with her face and silhouette, but never have I been able to capture her asleep.
In this state, she’s comfortable and trusting.
It’s an honor for someone to feel safe enough to sleep around you, and she is out like a light.
Carefully, I crawl out of the bed and stalk towards the trunk at the foot of it where I keep all of my sketchbooks and supplies.
When I turn back around to the bed, Sienna has shifted.
Her body, once cuddled into itself, is now splayed across the bed and she’s gripping the cover tightly in one hand.
I smile at the image of her under the paintings I’d created in honor of her hanging on the wall.
I don’t think she noticed the angel wings above my bed or the ballerina silhouette when she’d first come over, but they’re there .
Sliding back into my spot next to her, I flip to a new page in my book and begin sketching.