Page 121 of Enemies with Benefits

"And I'm an egotistical ass who doesn't know how to stop running his mouth, and I tend to avoid shit rather than deal with it, or make jokes so people think I don't take shit seriously."

"You do, though," he said with a frown. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have been here like you were."

"Well, I was hoping you'd figure that out on your own. I just wish it didn't take Kayden getting shot for me to get through to you and for you to open your eyes finally."

Jace snorted, glaring up at the building. "It just sucks he didn't break his jaw when he fell. Then they'd have to wire it shut, and I wouldn't have to listen to him."

"You know, I hear how you talk about Kayden, and I’ve wished you would talk about me like that."

"Wishing you got your jaw wired shut?"

"Yeah, but before now, I would have said that you'd say that and mean it. But with him, you don't, you just...you’re you."

He eyed me sadly. “I stopped hating you a while ago. I was just?—"

"Pissed?"

"Confused."

I opened my mouth and closed it because what could I say? He had every reason to be confused, and it wasn't like I wasn't right there with him, just as lost and just as confused. It made sense that his confusion would turn into anger; it fit him perfectly. I hadn't been joking when I'd said he had control issues. That made complete sense with his history, but it also meant that if he wasn't sure about something, he wobbled back and forth trying to make sense of it. The more the sense eluded him, the more frustrated he got.

So, of course, he’d lashed out at the person who seemed to be at the core of it. And I hadn't dealt with it well because, yeah, I liked attention, but that didn't mean I enjoyed being the target of all his problems and anger. I wasn't to blame for everything, not even our problems rested on my shoulders alone.

"I get it," I said after a minute of thinking, shaking my head. "But that doesn't mean things can keep going like they were."

"I know," he said, shrugging his shoulders and making his shirt move. I realized it was the same one he'd worn to the club with me, and despite enjoying the sight of the slightly too small shirt move around because of his broad shoulders, I was reminded that, for how tired and worn out I was, he was even worse off. "But...but I don't want shit just to stop. And I know what I said, alright? I know what I did, but that...can I take it back?"

I chuckled softly. “There's no real taking anything back, Jace. You have to know just as much as me that you can't change things that have happened. The question is, what do we do from here?"

"Well, we can't go back," he agreed. "But, uh...is there a chance to move forward?"

"You can't ask me that."

"Why?"

"Because it's not up to just me."

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mason. I know that. I'm asking if there's a chance to move forward for you."

"Is there for you?"

"Don't start answering my questions with questions."

"Why not?"

He growled, and when he reached out, I wondered if he was going to hit me, but instead, he shoved my shoulder. “Quit!"

I caught his hand before he could pull it back, enjoying the surprise on his face. "Yes, okay? I want to move forward."

"I do too," he said, still staring at my hand wrapped around his, slowly dropping them until they were between us. "But we can't...do it like we did before."

"On that, we both agree," I said, pausing as he changed our grip, lacing his fingers through mine and giving a soft, questioning squeeze.

"What...does that mean?” he asked, wrinkling his nose at the question I assumed, though I might have a bit of Cheeto dust on my fingers that he was finally noticing.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Probably shit like talking and listening to each other. Not always jumping down each other's throats. Oh, and we probably shouldn't be so quick to start beating the shit out of each other."

He snorted at that. “You like it rough."