Page 2 of When Ben Loved Jace (He Loved Him #2)

Greg lingers a moment longer, waving a tenner in the air before putting it in the tip jar. He’s grinning so hard that dimples show in his cheeks. “We’ll be back,” he whispers with a wink.

I have no idea what to think as he walks away.

That tip was way above average. Was it a promise of more money?

For doing what? The thrill I feel is short-lived, because this isn’t what I’d dreamt of.

Casual hookups aren’t hard to come by in a college town.

That’s not something I indulge in often, because without love, it just isn’t the same.

Not for me anyway. And maybe I’m being judgmental, but this tarnishes my image of Jason.

I always imagined him being an old-fashioned romantic, not an open relationship kind-of-guy.

I can see him through the window. He’s standing in front of the car while talking to his boyfriend.

Judging from their body language, the exchange is getting heated.

Jason finally looks skyward in exasperation.

Then he hands the yoghurt cups to Greg and returns unwillingly to the store, his face flushed.

I can’t help but assume that I’m the source of their conflict.

Maybe only one of them is eager to invite me to their bed.

I flash a sympathetic smile as he enters.

I’ll shoot him down, they can go home and argue about it some more, and he can come back to me if they ever break up because I’ve already decided that I like him again.

There’s something in those eyes. They aren’t mysterious and impenetrable, like a certain someone I used to know.

Jason’s gaze is full of feeling, emotion dancing openly across those emerald irises.

“Someone forgot their keys,” he says when approaching the counter.

“Oh!” I notice a key chain in front of the tip jar and point before his voice demands my attention again.

“Listen. I’m really sorry about uh… He means well. I can’t imagine what you must think of me. If anything at all, but um…”

I’m not sure what he’s trying to say, and it’s hard to pay attention, because Greg has cupped his hands and pressed them to the store window so he can see inside, his nose squished up against the glass. “Is your boyfriend all right?” I ask .

Jason follows my stare and groans. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “No. He’s my best friend. And a terrible wingman.”

It takes a second before the implications hit home.

“I think you’re really cute,” Jason says, already grimacing in anticipation of my response. “If you’re not into guys, that’s totally cool. I don’t mean any offense. But if you are…”

“I’m super gay!” I blurt out.

He stares a second before laughing, the tension draining from him. “Thank goodness! I kept trying to find a way of telling you that I am, without coming right out and saying it. I don’t even like rainbow sprinkles!”

I chuckle, thinking of all the times he’s ordered them. “I just assumed you were,” I admit. “Mostly because I wanted it to be true.”

Jason beams at me. His smile makes me feel beautiful. I can’t believe those pearly whites are for me!

“That’s great! Are you…”

“Hopelessly single,” I assure him.

“Perfect! Should we try our luck?”

I gesture around me. “They don’t call it Lucky Licks for nothing!” I say before wincing. It’s such a lame line, but by some miracle he laughs.

“Then it’s a good thing I have my loyalty card,” he says, taking out his wallet. “Do you have a pen?”

“Yeah!”

I hand the pen to him, which is tied to a short string, so customers can’t run off with such a valuable prize. He notices.

“Hey, you have a pet pen too? It’s a good thing you keep it on a leash. These have been known to bite people. You don’t want to end up with an ugly tattoo.”

He’s goofy. I’m so into it!

“Actually…” Jason says, putting his wallet back. “I have a better idea.”

He takes out a tiny slip of paper—the fortune he got earlier—and writes on the back.

“I’d like to get to know you better,” he says when handing it to me. “Give me a call.”

“I will,” I assure him .

“Good.” He seems to have regained his confidence, his smile subtle but inviting. “I look forward to it.”

I nibble my bottom lip. “Okay.”

“All right.”

We both laugh, and it’s the best kind of awkward.

When he turns around, we both see a double thumbs-up on the other side of the window.

Best friends can be so embarrassing. As soon as Jason is outside, Greg jostles him while grinning.

Not such a bad wingman after all! Jason pauses as he’s about to get into his car and looks in my direction.

I’m not sure if he can see me past the reflections, but I smile and wave.

After he drives away, I notice how warm I feel, like someone cranked up the thermostat.

I glance down at the fortune I’m still holding and see the phone number written there. And his name. The one he must prefer because it’s different. And I like it. Especially when I say it out loud.

“Jace!”

— — —

I’m sitting impatiently at the kitchen table the next morning while obsessing over a tiny slip of paper.

On one side is Jace’s handwriting, which is careful and tidy.

Suddenly I’m a forensic analyst, extrapolating an entire personality from four letters and seven numbers.

I’d be willing to testify that he keeps a clean house and is considerate.

The kind of guy who never fails to send his mom flowers on Mother’s Day.

On occasion I flip this over to contemplate the other side.

Persistence holds the key to what you seek.

Fairly standard stuff. I never put much stock in fortune cookie wisdom, but this one speaks to me.

I’ve often thought that if I simply keep trying, I’ll find the guy I’m looking for.

Even if it takes most of my life. Falling in love at eighty is better than never at all.

Of course it wouldn’t be the first time.

That’s what always trips me up. Depending on the day, I either feel like I threw away my soulmate because I wasn’t patient enough to let him grow at his own pace, or that I did what was right because it’s important to take care of yourself.

Allison assures me it’s the latter, not the former.

Speaking of which, when is she finally going to wake up? I need her advice!

I check the clock. It’s nearly ten in the morning.

Until recently, she always got up before me.

I blame the new guy she’s dating. I liked Ken when I first met him, since he’s a lot of fun.

But what I’ve realized since is that he’s the life of the party even when there isn’t one.

And that means way too much drinking. Allison will be hungover, which is why I already brewed a pot of coffee.

A bowl and spoon await on her side of the table, along with two packets of her favorite instant oatmeal.

Once she gets all that into her system, her advice machine should be humming and ready for action within half an hour.

When I decide that I simply can’t wait anymore, I rise and noisily empty the dishwasher, making sure to slam the cabinets.

Then I turn on some music, gradually adjusting the volume to make it louder and louder, but I love her, so I choose tunes that are soothing. My annoying behavior finally pays off.

“Whadya doin’ Ben? Iss-so goddamn early. Ugh.”

“Good morning!” I say sweetly as she trudges into the kitchen. “I made coffee.”

Allison eagerly accepts the mug that I fill. “You’re a saint,” she whispers. “Turn off the music. Please.”

I do so, covertly checking the clock again.

T-minus thirty minutes and counting. I listen to her take sips between sighs.

I get her oatmeal ready, figuring that should speed things up.

Then I press my lips together to stop myself blabbering while she eats.

Once the spoon clatters at the bottom of an empty bowl, I press my luck and attempt conversation.

“What did you do last night?”

“Jello shots,” she says. “Ken’s special recipe.”

“Now we know how Barbie stays so skinny. She can’t keep any food down the next morning.”

My joke is ill chosen. Allison raises a palm, as if she’s about to fill her bowl back up again. Then her hand drops to the table with a thunk. “I’m glad we’re leaving town,” she says with a sigh. “He wears me out.”

“So maybe he’s not the one for you,” I say casually.

She raises her eyebrows at this. “You’ve seen him, right?”

“Point taken.”

Ken is breathtakingly hot. When he walks down the street, women get wet and men get hard. I certainly did the first time I met him.

“Speaking of cute guys,” I say leadingly. “Guess who came into the store yesterday?”

“Rainbow Sprinkles. ”

“No! Well, actually, yes, but that’s not his name.” I slide the fortune across the table.

“Persistence holds the key to—” she begins to read until I flip it over with a huff of impatience. “Jace?” Allison looks up. “You got his number?” The weariness recedes from her features. “You’re actually going on a date?”

“I don’t know,” I say, recoiling slightly at the idea.

She slaps the table. “Do not toy with my emotions! I’ve been trying to get you to step out of your shell for months now, and this guy has been the only glimmer of hope.

” She holds up an index finger and takes a deep breath, as if to steady herself.

“Okay. Let’s start from the beginning. Tell me everything. ”

I do so gleefully, sharing any detail I can dredge up. By the end of my story, I’m grinning from ear to ear.

“So what’s the problem?” Allison asks.

“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “The fantasy never lives up to the reality.”

“Never?” she asks with enough emphasis that I don’t need her to clarify who she’s referring to. “You don’t get to be a PGA champion by giving up after the first hole.”

I snort. “That sounds like something your dad would say.”