Page 142 of The Run Back Home

It's him.

Much earlier than I thought was possible.

That ticking clock seems to stop altogether.

Jace stands just inside the automatic doors—hat pulled low, the hood of his sweatshirt resting over it. He's clearly trying to be discreet, but I would know that face anywhere. That stance. That presence.

"Wait, what…" Dylan follows my gaze, twisting so far around she nearly falls off the counter.

"Oh," she breathes. She looks back at me, a slow, dangerous grin growing on her face. "Ohh."

She pops up and moves to stand beside me right as Jace reaches the counter, an easy smile settling on his face.

I search her face, confused, then look at Jace again and smile back before I can stop myself. "You're here," I say to him, still a little stunned by it all.

"I am." His gaze flicks briefly to Dylan. "Hey."

"Well, hello again," she quips.

"But it's only—" I turn to look at the clock I was obsessing over just minutes ago. "Five twenty-two."

Jace shoves his hands into the pockets of his dark—perfectly sculpted—jeans. "I was hoping you hadn't gotten dinner yet."

"Oh, um, well…" My eyes flick to the computer. "I was actually—"

"She hasn't." Dylan drops her arm around my shoulders and pulls me in tightly.

I shoot her a look.

"What about the labs?" I grind out under my breath, my eyes drifting back to Jace.

"I'll handle it," she whispers back.

Her voice grows louder as she steps away from me. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it, honestly."

She flashes the fakest smile I've ever seen and waves us off. "Go."

I practically fall from behind the station as Dylan hip checks me toward Jace.

He looks me up and down, smiling his charming smile. I contemplate what exactly to say when Dr. Cherry's raspy voice floats around the corner.

"How do you feel about mashed potatoes?" I blurt, looping my arm into his and pulling him away from the hospital Trunchbull toward the main elevator.

Jace lets me yank him away, pushing his hand deeper into his pocket so his arm wraps tighter around mine. "Mashed potatoes?" he asks as we wait for the elevator to make its way to our floor.

I laugh under my breath as I glance down the hallway, making sure the coast is clear. My elbow starts to slip into the perfect valley between Jace's bulging bicep and solid forearm, and without even acknowledging it, he lifts his other hand and clamps mine gently in place.

"I was just kidding," I say, watching his palm slide off my arm.

At the same time, the elevator door dings open.

Jace waits until the very last second to break our connection, pulling his hand from his pocket and placing it on my lower back. Once it's just the two of us in the big metal box, he adjusts his hat higher on his head, and relaxes more, leaning back onto the handle that sits around the perimeter.

"You looked like you weren't expecting me back there," he says, crossing one foot over the other, waiting for me as I push the button for the cafeteria floor.

I rest my shoulder against the wall beside him, turned toward him. "Not this soon," I explain. "What'd you do? Kick Vienna out while the car was still moving?"

"What? No, of course not," he explains, eyes straight ahead. "I came to a full stop first."