Chapter 9
The bedroom door is open and Jace is huddled near the headboard, one leg dangling off the bed, the duvet haphazardly tossed over his shoulders. He's on the phone with someone. His voice is soft, groggy even. He sniffles, sneezes once and clears his throat.
"I'm fine, babe," he says into the phone.
Jealousy rides my ass like nobody's business when I pause behind the wall, eavesdropping on his conversation with Sasha Vernon. That girl isn't here yet she's upsetting me. Hearing her side of the conversation takes no effort with my acute senses.
"Are you sure you're alright? You sound a little sick."
"A little sore throat. But I'll be fine after some sleep I guess," he responds. He clears his throat again. Hopefully, the warm Chamomile tea will help with that.
Walking in, I'm distinctly aware of the glare burning into my side. I'm not sure if he's upset that I interrupted his privacy or about the earlier incident.
"Okay. I'll let you rest. You sound tired. Bye. I love you."
"Yeah. See you." He hangs up and tosses the phone on the bed. The fact that he doesn't return her I love you feeds my ego sending it soaring to dangerous heights. I won't read much into it. For all I know, he's probably too tired to entertain anyone for too long.
"What's that creepy grin for?" he analyzes, glaring at me so hard I'm half-tempted to reach out and smoothen that frown on his brow. "Did I say something that's worth laughing at?"
"Guess you don't love your girl as much." I hold the cup of tea out amused by his attitude, but he doesn't refuse the gesture of goodwill. He blows into the cup to cool the liquid a little before carefully taking a sip.
"Butt out of my relationship with Sasha. You know nothing. You already have a jealous girlfriend to deal with and I'd rather you focus your time there," he spits bitterly, confirming the reason for his coldness.
I don't blame him. He's a guest in my home and it's my responsibility to take better care of him.
I should be taking care of him. He's my mate though he has no clue how precious he is to me or how biased I am toward him.
"I don't have a girlfriend."
Jace frowns. I sit down with less than an arm's length of distance between us. "Right," he drawls in the greatest tone of sarcasm I have ever heard.
"I'm serious. I've never had relationships before. Just one-night stands, and friends with benefits." Jace curls his lip in disgust at the confession. He shouldn't talk. I'm not the one bullying innocent people to fit in.
"Then why the hell was she looking at me smug as shit all afternoon? Why lock me outside? In fact, why the hell does she think I'm interested in you when I can barely tolerate your ass? I'm only tolerating you because you asked me a favor and you're willing to pay up."
"So, that's all I am to you? A benefactor?"
I'd love to tell him why she feels threatened but he would freak out. Jace needs to like me enough to accept a possible relationship. He also needs to be open-minded to the possibility of werewolves existing.
In his view, I'm a fucking myth. That is a tragedy in and of itself.
"We're not friends, Daniels. Never was and never will be."
I have no intention of building a friendship with him. And I know better than to say something stupid.
"What if I want to be friends?"
Jace pauses, clutching the cup with both hands. His eyes bore into me. First in shock. Then humor gleams in them, lighting up those green eyes. He tilts his head back and just as he starts cackling, he gasps and sneezes.
Instant karma.
"Why would you want to be friends with me?" he drills, rubbing his nose. "You hate me, and you hate the people I hang out with." He checks his fingers for snot, and I pull a tissue from the nearby box. He accepts it with a soft, "Thank you."
"I'm beginning to realize that hate is a particularly strong word. Probably the wrong one, too. You intrigue me. Putting up a front at school so everyone thinks you're quote-unquote cool, but different when they're not around."
I take the change to get closer, propping on my elbow, my body nearly halfway curled around him like a cocoon. His gaze follows. "I like this Jace and definitely wouldn't mind being friends with him if he's open to it."
Jace pouts but quickly wipes it away. "And why would I want to be friends with you?" He scoffs as though the idea is an absurd concept.
"It's inevitable. You like my friends and we're a packaged deal. One way or some other, you'll be acquainted with me."
He's quiet now, staring down into the steaming cup of Chamomile tea as if it holds the answers to his problems. "I don't know."
"Say you'll try."
He passes a finger over the brim of the mug. Eyebrows pinched, caught in an internal battle weighing the pros and cons of such acquaintance.
Hanging around me and my friends would put a dent in his high school reputation because the popular crowd consists of shallow, stereotypical douchebags who seem to hate three-quarters of our group for no valid reason – or perhaps one we're not privy to.
The only exception is Carter though sometimes are moments when he is an egotistical ass I want to strangle with a length of chain link.
It's up to Jace. Spend his high school career miserable and in the company of people who worry about irrelevant reputations and materialistic things or find himself friends who would push him forward in life. I don't like the popular crowd for a reason – or multiple.
It's my hope that Jace sees he's worthy of friends like mine. If I'm accepting him as my mate, I have one condition: Ditch his friends because I hate who they force him to be in their presence when he is the opposite.
He shouldn't change himself to fit in when he's fine as he is.
"Okay." He sets the mug aside, clasping his hands together.
Pretty candy-apple green eyes stare back with a hopeful shine.
He's only agreed to my proposition and already he looks as though a giant weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
"I'll try. Your friends are cool. Just, one condition.
" He hesitates, nervously wringing his hands together.
I know where this is going. "My friends. ..they don't like you and yours."
Tell me something I don't know.
"It'll be best if you and the others don't talk to me at school or when I'm around my friends."
"What about Carter? He's my best friend."
"He's the exception. King of Jasper Falls High, remember?"
I hate this. He wants the best of both worlds. Using me and my friends to give him a fulfillment his own fail to provide but denying us in public at the risk of his reputation. But I can't get mad. I understand.
Everyone cares about making a mark constantly worrying about reputation, status, always being perfect. At least he's giving us a shot unknowingly giving me a reason to be close.
If I play my cards right, I could win him over. Make him mine, and use my friends as the way in.
Jace was out sick for a little over a week.
After the rainstorm ceased, it took one day to clear the roads of fallen trees and debris. The temporary end of the rains is marked by scorching hot weather and flood waters resided as though the torrent never happened.
The heat is unbelievable. Walking in the sun for five minutes feels like running a marathon with no water breaks. But that's the cycle in the county. Scorching hot sun, then heavy rainfall.
And it gets worse and more unpredictable the closer summer comes.
There are less than three weeks left before the school year ends and vacation starts. We're one week away from finals. It's already Thursday and Jace's second day back to school after battling a terrible cold.
I got his number from Carter. Over the last week, ridden with guilt, I called and texted him numerous times. It's partly my fault he suffered a cold, and I should have done more to help him fight it off.
He would reply and we'd talk late into the night.
Whenever I called, he sounded so sick over the phone that it hurt my heart to hear him like that.
Since his father is a doctor, the man had confined him to bedrest until further notice, only leaving the house for emergencies at the hospital.
Jace said his father is terrified of leaving him by himself when he's not well.
It was an intriguing discovery and one I teased him for.
At school, you'd think he doesn't have perfect relations with his parents only to find out that they coddle him every chance they get.
The snippets of conversation I caught while we spoke over the phone paints a picture of doting parents and that he's close with them.
His mother worries about him constantly, and his father absolutely adores him.
I wonder if they know what their precious angel is like during school.
Since Jace was bedridden with a cold and high fevers, it was impossible to hold tutoring sessions. He apologized for letting me down, but I wasn't angry. No amount of tutoring from him could save my sorry grades at this point and his health is more important.
It's my fault anyway since I should've paid more attention in my classes, putting my education before pack politics I'm not due to oversee until later down the road.
I must graduate with exceptional grades if I plan on getting into college.
That's the basic requirement for every pack head and his or her successor because Marcana believes in earning status and wealth – not abusing it.
No predecessor of Marcana leaves their position to an uneducated, incompetent fool when those successors will run the largest conglomerate in town: Aegean Industries, its subsidiaries throughout the county, and be involved in different branches of the law that governs the town.
I made it clear to Jace that he could tutor me for summer school instead.
If I'm going to pass, perhaps a different method might work, and I prefer Jace to my current math teacher.
He has a way of explaining things that's easy to understand.
His notes are simple, tailored to maximize retaining information.
It's decided. I'll pull a few strings for Jace tutor me in accordance with the summer school curriculum, then come in and write the final.
Jace was unsure, intent on tutoring me so I wouldn't be at a loss during the coming finals, but I only argued that he should spend time catching up on his own studies.
"What'd you say, Sky?"
Blinking, I turn to Carter. He closes his eyes realizing that I haven't heard a word out of his mouth. We're on lunch break at our usual table out on the picnic lawn, my mind and eyeballs preoccupied with the prettiest picture I've seen all week.
My friends' conversations hold no interest when I can't take my eyes off of Jace. This is the first time in so long that he and his friends are having lunch outside and he's fucking distracting.
He looks like a model straight off a billboard.
Dirty blonde hair tousled in a boyish way while those candy-apple eyes are bright with warmth I find so inviting.
His attire today matches that appeal creating serious palpitations every time I glance his way.
I catch myself going over his attire, appreciating how well that white jersey and stylish black jacket hug his sinful figure.
I want to touch but we aren't there yet. In fact, I've no idea how he views me. We've spoken every day since he was able to leave Marcana. He's grown comfortable with me. He's open about many things and would sometimes talk my ear off.
He admitted to enjoying our conversations because he could be himself and express how he really feels – his thoughts, ideas, and stance on various topics without worrying about a backlash and ridicule for having a different perspective.
"Sky! For fuck's sake!" Carter whines. I've zoned out again, barely stopping the smile that curls my mouth when Jace suddenly laughs at something one of his friends says. If Carter wants my attention so badly, he should march over there and tell Jace to switch off the magnetizing sex appeal.
"What?" He's disrupting my sightseeing. Carter rolls his eyes.
"Don't get pissy. I was just saying that this weekend is the last time we'll be able to hang out until summer break. We should invite Jace to the get-together since we're all on speaking terms and he's your mate. That is, if he wants to hang out with us rather than go to that party."
"Somebody's throwing a party?" Ash queries, taking a ridiculously large bite of a hamburger. His cheeks puff out and he has trouble clamping his mouth shut but that wouldn't stop Asher Stone. He finds a way around it, sticking his finger into his mouth and shoving the food down.
The sight turns my stomach, and I have to look away. I swear he's downright disgusting at times.
Carter is seated in front me obstructing my view of Jace and his girlfriend.
Jealousy surges when he kisses Sasha on the cheek. She returns the gesture by cupping his chin, planting a kiss close to his mouth.
"Harper's girlfriend is throwing a party tomorrow night. I'm not going," Carter supplies.
"Aren't you expected to show up to these things?" Ash pipes up, taking another bite of his hamburger. It's then I realize that three-quarters of the burger is gone in three bites.
"Yeah, but nobody said I have to go.
Besides, it's tradition. Can't break it over a party," Carter explains looking back to me.
He's wearing a stupid-ass grin that I want to smack off as he turns, glancing at the 'popular table'.
"So, want me to do the honors or do you have the balls, Daniels? "
"I have enough balls to go around the table but I'm not going over there. I might kill somebody."
Ash gasps dramatically, a large grin splitting his face. "Is that jealousy, I hear? The Sky Daniels is jealous of somebody! Hold up! Wait a damn minute!" he continues, plopping the quarter of his burger down and lifts his hands.
"Somebody call the local newspaper!" He thumps his palms on the table making our friends chuckle at his antics.
"Breaking news! Local blue blood heartthrob and man-whore, Sky Daniels is jealous of someone!
You've heard it all! Who is this mystery person who has captured the heart of one of Jasper Falls High's most notorious golden boys?
Care to give a comment to your loyal fans?
" Ash finishes, imitating a news reporter holding out a microphone.
"I'm not jealous." I know they see through my fa?ade but I've no desire to admit that Jace and Sasha's subtle gestures of public affection bother me. He's my mate for gods' sake! Seeing him happy in the embrace of another is killing me – figuratively – and worse, I'm physically close to them.
If she runs her fingers through his hair one more fucking time, I'm breaking all ten of her fingers, and shaving Jace bald –
Motherfucker!
My mouth curls into a nasty snarl as Sasha Vernon runs her fingers through Jace's blond hair. A kiss to his cheek follows and he responds by pulling her closer, kissing her smack on the mouth. My hands ball to fists.
"If you're not jealous," Ash comments coolly, glancing at my fists clenched so tight, my knuckles are turning white.
I glare at him, but he sips his juice without a damn that my control is slipping.
He's challenging me. I hate that they can get to me so easily.
"You shouldn't get so worked up about their PDA. "
There's a warning in his voice and it's clear.
I need to calm down before I make a scene and get us all into trouble.
This close to finals week, it would be a total disaster that I'm sure we'll never escape or hear the end of until time itself stops.
We'll get a scolding lecture from Principal Dalton, swiftly followed by lectures and individual punishments from our parents.
I utilize the breathing exercises I learned when all this hormonal shit started a year prior. It's solely for the purpose of controlling the anger from lapsing human instincts that give the animal side more power.
Those primal instincts want to mark Jace because it's a territorial bastard. He's mine. Anyone who poses a potential threat or challenge is just looking for trouble.
Feeling the primal instinct simmer as logic pushes to the forefront, I sweep my friends with a quick glance.
"I'm not jealous." My voice is cool. Even.
Carter grins in challenge. "Prove it. Go over there and invite Jace."
I don't want to go over there. Not while Jace is so handsy with Sasha. Not with Brent Harper and his cronies there who would up the irritation factor by simply existing.
"I can't. I told Jace I wouldn't approach him while he's with his friends.
" The word comes as a sneer, disgust filling me.
I barely restrain the urge to shudder in revulsion because he could do so much better.
"On top of respecting his wishes, I'd rather be maimed with a dull spoon than go over there. "
"Chickening out, Daniels?" the idiot taunts.
"So," Asher drawls, "you'd rather sit here, glare, and get wrinkled before your time instead of going over there? What happened to asserting dominance? Never took you for a quitter."
A quitter?
My focus flits back to handsy couple. Their bodies are angled toward one another. They're close.
Too close for my liking.
Jace tucks a lock of dark hair behind her ear and leans in, giving her a passionate kiss on the mouth. It lasts no more than a second but to me, it's like watching that shit at the slowest speed imaginable. On repeat.
Over the mild chatter from the surrounding tables, there's a faint but audible skip in my heartbeat.
It's too much to handle! He's breaking my heart without knowing.
Before logic could get the better of me, I'm marching over to the table of popular boneheaded idiots.
"Five bucks he gets turned down," I hear Carter whisper to Ash.
Acute hearing is such a blessing sometimes.
"You're on," Ash retorts. "This is going to be epic!" he sings quietly, earning a snicker from Carter.
"This is going to end in disaster." The comment comes from Laken, leaving his lips in a mere whisper.
Less than a foot away from those boneheaded idiots, I'm practically steaming.
"Conner!" His name leaves my mouth in a vexed growl, startling him. The speed at which he separates from Sasha is so fast that I worry he's pulled something. Jace stares up at me, eyes wide like those of a doe-eyed fawn caught in the headlights of a speeding truck.
He looks both so guilty and remorseful that my rugged exterior almost falters.
Almost.
"Sk – Daniels?"
Fuck! Seething with fury is all well and fine but now that I'm in front of him, my mind goes blank. The entire table looks on with intrigue, their stares judgmental, condescending in nature as though I hold no pedestal high enough to be in their presence.
Half of them are a bunch of broke bitches who lack substantial substance. Their judgment means nothing.
I let the rugged exterior fall, but I'm not going to be friendly either. How hard could it be to just tell him?
So, I do what my father taught me as a child. When it feels like the world is against me, like nobody is listening, look it straight in the eye. No flinching or blinking. A blank face. Assert my dominance and leave no room for negotiation.
Seize control.
"Carter's having a get-together tomorrow. Be there. He'll text you the address."
Snickers break out making a muscle thump in my jaw. Their immaturity grates on my nerves. I know there are things that Jace doesn't like about me, but his friends aren't any better.
His evident shock at the invitation fades, replaced with a condescending smile. Now, he's laughing at me along with the other idiots. Enter Bully Jace.
"He's got guts," some idiot named Katy Durnst says.
"Who the fuck is going to that? Why is Carter even hanging around those losers?" an asshole called Blake Dalton butts in.
"Can you believe this guy?" a certain bigmouthed fool queries, jabbing a thumb in my direction. The table is having a laugh at my expense, Jace included. The only two who don't participate are Sasha Vernon and Ashton Meyers.
"Right?" Jace replies to his dumbass best friend, bolstering the urge to curse the mate bond to hell and back. A simple 'no' would have sufficed and I don't think Jace realizes my nonexistent tolerance for disrespect.
"I applaud your courage, Daniels," Jace tacks on with a smirk, much like the same one that usually pisses me off to no end.
It's like he's determined to eradicate any friendliness between us. If there was no bond, I'd have broken a couple bones by now. It's the only thing that holds me back from reprimanding his disrespect.
There's no shred of the person who spent a day, and two nights stranded in Marcana, gushing over the simplest of meals I made him, spewing off about topics in random, rapid succession, or sitting with me in silence while we read.
This here is the Jace Conner I loathe with everything I'm worth.
And since I'm not about to let this disrespect continue, I hit him a smirk watching the self-satisfaction in his demeanor falter in uncertainty.
My sweet mate. He has no idea who he's playing with.
"Carter invited you out of kindness," I begin, keeping my tone quiet like I'm talking to a child I don't care about. "You don't have to show up if you're not interested. You could go to Katy's party, get shit-faced drunk and wallow in misery and self-loathing for all I care."
I sound like a monster. My words cut him to the quick because they're true. He knows it. I know it. And he knows I know because I see the humor drain from his face, the hurt that dulls the shine in those beautiful eyes and the fact that he looks like he'll burst into tears if I don't shut up.
But I want him to hurt as much as I feel disrespected. Disappointed in his persistent need to play this useless game of charades for their validation when he is worth gold to me.
"In fact, go to Katy's party." It's no longer a suggestion. It's a command. "Don't ruin my Friday evening by showing your face. It'll be quite the dampener being around someone whose irrelevant, fake, and who doesn't have a backbone."
The insult cuts him deep. It's there in the deepening dullness of his gaze, the bitter truth and weight of the implication shocking him so badly, those eyes become unfocused.
Good. That should be a wakeup call.
I'm not above putting my mate in his place and it's about time that somebody teaches Jace Conner that respect is a two-way street.
I won't tolerate being disrespected by somebody who's too afraid of being his true self.