Page 67 of Malice and Surrender
Marching across the small terminal, I pushed open the doors to the private jet and jogged up the stairs. I expected Jace to be asleep, but he was lying in bed writing in his songbook.
As soon as he looked over, I knew that he was right. I’d leaned on him from the moment I got back from that camping trip and never stopped.
“I’m sorry.” Jace lowered the book. “You’re right. I never asked you if you were okay. I figured you’d tell me if you weren’t, and it was selfish of me to think that just because you were the rock I needed, you weren’t suffering.”
“Pfft, he got what he deserved,” Jace said, pointing to the other side of the bed. I smirked.
“True, but still.” I sat down and kicked off my sneakers before stretching out.
“You’re not the only one that needs to apologize. I don’t do the sharing thing well, and I find it easier to let you lean on me than share, but I can’t get mad when you did exactly what I expected you to do.”
We stared at the ceiling as I tried to picture living like this all the time, traveling the world and sleeping in the jet with him. The moment I thought about it, Raine’s face floated into my mind, and my chest ached. No, I didn’t want to leave her, but I didn’t want Jace to go without me, either. I felt like I was in a trap of my own making.
“What were you writing?” I asked.
“New ballad. Was kinda thinking of doing a love song about being torn between two people,” Jace said, turning his head to look at me.
“Is the song for me or about me?” I smiled, feeling like he’d hit way too close to the mark.
“I guess we will have to see once it’s done,” Jace said.
I pushed myself up and stared down into his eyes. “You know I love you, right? Don’t ever think that has changed.”
“What happens if I say I have my doubts?” Jace ran his tongue along his lip, and that one little act had my blood heating and my cock twitching.
“You may need to be reassured that I do still love you. I wouldn’t want you flying off and having any reservations,” I said, laying my hand on his stomach. His abs flexed under my touch.
“Is that so?” Jace wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. “Then I think I have many, many doubts.”
I leaned down, and our lips met, as potent as the first time we kissed. I really did love make-up sex.
Kaivan
“Fuck, my head,” I groaned as the man with the ice pick stabbed me in the eye.
I grabbed my forehead and sucked in a breath as I tried to push myself up. I didn’t remember much of what happened, but it definitely involved large amounts of alcohol. Had I been singing? I had a warped memory of “Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” from earlier in the night.
The pain throbbed and gripped my brain as my stomach flipped. Not good. Jumping up, I ran to the bathroom and looked like I was doing a fancy dance move as I dropped to my knees and slid the last couple of feet to the toilet. I made it just in time. Gripping the sides of the bowl, I emptied my stomach and then wanted to throw up again from the stench.
“Fuck,” I mumbled, flushing the toilet and leaning my head against the wall.
“Well, isn’t this a pathetic fucking sight?” Roach yelled.
I cringed with every word, like he was screaming right beside my ear.
“Shh,” I managed to get out and turned my head enough to see his arrogant and way too happy expression as he leaned against the doorjamb. Prick.
“Oh no, no. Not after what you pulled last night. I’m going to make your life a living hell, and I’m starting with this. I’se The B’y that builds the boat and I’se The B’y that sails her,” he roared at the top of his lungs.
I groaned and cowered away from the noise, praying that the wall would swallow me.
“I’m going to kill you when I can stand,” I said, slowly pushing myself to my feet.
Roach laughed. He turned on the water faucet, and like a homing beacon, I followed the noise and braced my hands against the counter as I let my stomach settle.
“How much did I drink? Feels like I tried to chug everything in the clubhouse,” I said, splashing my face with some water and rinsing my mouth out before that felt like too much exercise.
“You drank more than I’ve ever seen you drink, and there was no sipping. You started the night drinking from a bottle of whiskey, and things didn’t improve from there,” Roach said as he slipped an arm around my waist and helped me back out of the bathroom.
