Page 5 of When Ben Loved Jace (He Loved Him #2)

I connect the words to what he’d been saying previously and am blown away by his smoothness. In more than one way. “You’re one hell of a skater!” I praise as he helps me up again.

He shrugs humbly. “The perks of growing up in a small town with not much else to do.”

Jace guides us over to the nearest wall, so I can take hold of it.

“Show me what you can do without dead weight hanging off your arm,” I suggest.

He nods with a smile. Then he takes off.

I’ve watched my share of figure skating, drawn to it by the way some men fill out a pair of tights.

Even with a haze of hormones obscuring my vision, I’m always awed by the talent and dedication that goes into each routine.

Jace isn’t quite at that skill level. He doesn’t do any high-speed scratch spins or gravity-defying toe jumps, but he does glide around the ice with enviable grace.

His attention remains locked on me for most of this.

He even skates backward after blowing past so his eyes don’t have to leave mine.

“Teach me how to do that!” I say once he’s returned.

We venture back out onto the ice, chatting in between the pointers he provides.

I learn that he’s twenty-five. With a birthday coming up in April, that makes him about four years my senior.

He only moved to the area at the beginning of his freshman year of college.

The subject of education follows us after we leave the rink and go to a restaurant attached to the mall.

“What’s your major?” he asks once we’re seated at a warmly lit table.

“Malfunction,” I reply before shaking my head. “Sorry, that’s sort of an in-joke between me and my best friend. I’m an English major.”

He snorts, but I don’t think my sense of humor is the culprit.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he says. “That just happens to be mine as well.”

“Oh no!” I cry in mock dismay. “Does that mean I’m going to end up passing out peanuts in the sky?”

“Hey, it’s a noble profession,” he counters.

“I know people think we’re glorified waiters, but we’re closer to nurses.

That’s who Ellen Church was. She was also a pilot, but history remembers her as the first female flight attendant.

She believed that passengers would feel less fearful of flying with a trained nurse on board.

The industry was much younger back then.

The job still focuses on that same role today.

Flight attendants are there to ensure passenger safety and comfort. Ellen Church pioneered all of that.”

“That’s really cool! I was only being facetious. In truth, I’m jealous that you figured out what you want to do. I don’t have a clue.” I wiggle the menu. “I’m not even sure what to order!”

We focus on the problem at hand until the waiter stops by our table.

“What made you decide to major in English?” Jace asks when we’re alone again.

“I like to read. It was always my best subject. I sometimes write to entertain myself. So I figured I could turn that into something. Maybe as a journalist. Although I’m not very political or into current events, so probably not.”

“What sort of things do you write for fun?”

“Stories.”

“About what?”

I shrug. “How it feels to be me, I guess. And the way I want things to be.”

Jace smiles at this. “An idealist and an artist. It’s my lucky day!”

“I’m not an artist. Nor do I want to be.”

He tilts his head. “There it is again.”

“What?”

“The edge of sorrow. What was his name?”

Jesus, can he read me that well? “It was a long time ago,” I say dismissively .

“Was it one of the guys you played doctor with when younger? Maybe you should go for a medical degree instead. It sounds like you already have a lot of experience, Dr. Ben.”

This makes me laugh. “Would you be my nurse?”

“I think about that sometimes,” Jace says with a nod. “I could’ve gone into nursing. I like helping people. If you were a psych major, you’d probably diagnose me as having rescuer syndrome.”

I pantomime flipping open a notepad before holding an invisible pen at the ready. “Did that begin after your suicide attempt, when you were rescued? Do you feel the need to repay that debt?”

“Maybe,” Jace says, his green eyes losing focus.

I set my hands on the table. “What was his name?”

“The old man who rescued me? Bernie.”

“No. I mean the guy that you tried to rescue.”

His gaze flicks to mine, and I swear I feel an intense connection. A mutual understanding. Maybe we would have gotten to the bottom of it if the waiter didn’t show up then with our drinks. I don’t feel like conjuring up old demons anyway. I’m more interested in the present.

“So why did you decide to major in English?” I ask.

Jace shrugs. “I like to read. It was always my best subject.”

I stare in shock. “I guess we both know how this is going to turn out. Think you can get me a job at the airline you work for?”

“Sure,” he says with a chuckle. “Why not?”

We talk more about his work, and his love of travel.

While dining, we compare notes on the literary genres we each prefer.

He’s into non-fiction, biographies in particular.

I’ve always been prone to flights of fancy, so fiction suits me better.

I try to get a sense of his taste in music, but Jace is happy listening to whatever.

I don’t reveal how much I enjoy singing.

I tend to hold back that information when on a date with someone new.

Not because I have performance anxiety or anything silly like that.

I just don’t want to retread old ground.

I’m looking for a fresh start, not a rerun.

We walk the mall together after dinner, but it closes early tonight, so we’ll need to go somewhere else. I’m not ready for that just yet. For more than one reason.

“Sorry,” I say after yawning. “I had to get up early to pack for this trip. I always do it at the last second. ”

“It’s a long drive out here,” Jace says, not seeming offended. “Can I walk you to your car?”

“Sure!”

The exit I parked near isn’t far away. Soon we’re standing in front of each other, awash in amber light, puffs of steam accompanying each breath.

“I hope you bought that used,” Jace says, nodding at my car, which is dinged and dented.

“It got left out in a really bad hail storm,” I lie.

His face scrunches up in puzzlement. “Really? Because the roof is fine.”

“I don’t want to talk about it!”

He laughs and returns his attention to me. “So uh… When can I see you again?”

I suck in, like it’s a tall order. “I don’t visit my parents often. My mom barely let me go on this date.”

“And tomorrow is Christmas,” Jace says, nodding in understanding. “I’ll be out of town until the thirtieth. What about New Year’s Eve?”

“You mean the holiday that, ideally, always ends in a kiss?” I bite my bottom lip and nod.

His eyes are half-lidded as he studies me. “I can’t wait that long.” He glances around the parking lot, which has mostly cleared out. “And this doesn’t feel like the right place.”

“I’m not picky,” I assure him.

“I am.” He looks to the horizon and seems to find inspiration. “Do you mind following me in your car real quick?”

I shrug. “Where did you park?”

He nods, his yellow whatever-it-is the next row over.

What were the odds? Not only have the fates aligned, they’re doing a chorus-line kick!

My pulse is racing as I follow him and—thanks to all that is holy—manage not to ram his vehicle along the way.

Our destination is a small public park two blocks over.

Except for a playground, a baseball diamond, and a shelter with a few picnic tables, not much else is there.

At this time of night—and year—we’re the only ones around.

“Works for me,” I say after stepping out of my car.

Jace takes my hand. “Almost there.”

I stumble along beside him to the baseball diamond. One corner of it in particular.

“First base?” I say in disbelief .

He nods with a shameless smirk.

“You’re ridiculous,” I say, my voice full of warmth, but it’s nothing compared to the heat I feel when he pulls me close and places his lips on mine.

All the other guys I’ve kissed before are forgotten in this moment.

The feel of his body against mine, the protective arms that wrap around me, the affection dancing in his eyes when he pulls back…

I’m sold! I take Jace’s hand and pull him toward second base.

I don’t even know what it’s supposed to represent. I just want more!

Jace laughs and resists me enough along the way that I stop.

“I don’t want to rush this,” he says. “Is that okay?”

“Of course!” I grin as we meander toward our cars. “Wait, exactly how slow are we talking here? I mean, it took you three months to ask me out.”

“Was it that long?”

“Yes! I kept trying to lure you back in too. All those stickers I put on your Lucky Licks Loyalty cards? You must have redeemed them on someone else’s shift.”

“I never went inside if I didn’t see you working there.”

“Really?”

He nods and pulls out his wallet. Beneath the parking lot lights, I watch him fan out a bunch of the cards, all of them filled to capacity.

“How come you never used them?”

“I didn’t want you to think that was the reason I kept coming back. I hoped you’d realize I was only there because of you.”

I stare in disbelief. “Do you even like frozen yoghurt?”

He shrugs, as if apathetic.

I can’t help but laugh.

“I had a nice time, Ben,” he says, taking my hands in his. “I’ll see you at the end of the year.”

“Just one more,” I plead, placing my palms on his chest and pushing myself up on tippy toes to reach his lips again. The kiss is just as intoxicating as the first, if not even more so, but it does nothing to satiate my appetite.

I already know that I’ll never get enough.