Page 53 of When Ben Loved Jace (He Loved Him #2)

I’ve been performing at the theater for the better part of a year.

The work isn’t as intimidating anymore, even the acting parts that don’t involve much singing.

Whatever emotion my character needs to embody, I simply draw from past experience.

Which feels like a super power, because it allows me to relive the good and repurpose the bad.

All those times I was bullied, for instance.

Now I have a place to put the fear, the indignation, the humiliation.

Fuel for my furnace. I’d love to see Bryce and Darryl in the front row, forced to watch my command of the stage while their wives swoon over me.

Okay, maybe I’m getting a little carried away.

I’m not the best actor. I still refuse any role that doesn’t allow me to sing, because only then does the audience truly react, like I’ve managed to reach them.

Even in the back row. That’s where I saw him last week, in the far corner, light reflecting off those unforgettable silver eyes.

The table was empty when I took a bow at the end of the play, a few beer bottles the only evidence that anyone had sat there at all.

The same thing had happened earlier this week, albeit at a different seat. And now…

We’re about to enter the final act. Flickering lights will move across the audience, indicating the passage of time.

When they do, that’ll be my chance to see him clearly.

Or whoever it is. I’m not sure what result I want.

Some part of me wants Tim to witness how well I’m doing.

My life is great. If we were going to run into each other again, this would be the ideal time.

And I am curious about his life, because neither of us has a presence on social media.

I don’t know what became of him after we parted ways. How long has it been exactly?

“ Years and years and years! ” I sing, turning to the audience so I can watch the lights sparkle across them in a wave.

“ And always this same feel— ” The note catches in my throat because it’s him.

Our eyes meet—a jolt running straight to my heart.

Speaking of which… “ This same feeeeeling! ” I belt, hoping the mistake seemed intentional, like my character was overwhelmed by emotion.

Which I truly was, no matter how briefly.

Did he notice? This is the third time Tim has seen this play.

That I know of. How come he’s sitting by himself? What does that mean? Anything?

The role demands my full attention until the final curtain call.

When the house lights come up again, the table is empty.

What is he trying to do, pass himself off as a ghost?

Then again, I totally get it. I did the same thing back in high school when showing up at his baseball game after we’d broken up.

Hell, I’d do that now. If there was an opportunity to watch Tim partake in some public spectacle, I’d indulge my curiosity and make a discreet exit toward the end, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

I did though. There can be no doubt in his mind, considering the way my voice faltered.

I’d be surprised if he comes to another of my performances.

“Great show, everyone!” Brian says as we make our way backstage. He falls in line beside me. “You uh… Missed a note out there, Ben. You sure made it work though. That was a really nice save. Especially the way you clutched at your chest, like your heart was going to break.”

I wasn’t aware of having done that. “Thanks,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t clock my flushing cheeks. “You always write such emotional stories. It just comes naturally. ”

“Maybe you should make that an intentional part of future performances.”

“The inspiration has to be there,” I reply diplomatically. “I’m not sure I can fake it.” Or that I want it to ever happen again. Seeing him again was a thrill. Now it’s over.

I report to the long dressing room that I share with the rest of the cast. We joke around and blow off steam while changing into our civilian clothes, transitioning back to our usual selves. They’re teasing me about the screw-up when Brian reappears.

“Ben? There’s someone here to see you.”

My stomach sinks. I’m not ready for this. “Probably one of my many adoring fans,” I say grandly, getting back at the others for taking me down a notch. “You know how it is. Oh wait, I suppose you don’t.”

A sweaty T-shirt smacks into the side of my head. A couple of towels soon follow. I rush from the room, Brian shielding me like a bodyguard. Why can’t it stay like this? A nice simple night. No complications. Just me, tired and content after another performance.

But then, if I’m honest, I do want to see him again.

“He’s quite the looker!” Brian says, walking me toward the front of the building. “Were you expecting anyone?”

“I noticed him in the audience,” I reply. “We go way back.”

“Were you his babysitter or something?”

The comment confuses me until we step into the lobby, which has cleared out except for one person.

And it isn’t Tim. The guy is young. Fresh out of high school.

His build is slender. Platinum blond hair spills across his forehead and around his ears to tangle at the back of his neck.

I’ve never seen him in my life. Holy crap!

Maybe I actually do have a fan! Although those sky-blue eyes are pure ice.

The young man opens his arms and walks toward me, as if wanting a hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Benjamin!”

I feel myself tense. If the sickly-sweet sarcasm wasn’t hint enough, the name he used gives away the game.

I take a step back as he nears, and it’s a good thing I do, because he swipes at me, painted nails moving through the air just inches from my face.

The crazy bitch is literally trying to scratch my eyes out!

“Hey now!” Brian says, trying to insert himself between us.

Not that it helps .

“Stay away from my boyfriend, you fucking slut!” The young man lunges at me, his face twisted up with rage. And somehow he still manages to look pretty. No doubt about it. Tim landed himself a hottie.

“I’m married ,” I shout back, walking in an arc away from Brian so he doesn’t get caught in the crossfire. “I don’t know what you think is going on—”

“I know exactly what this is!”

Clearly not. “Calm the hell down and listen to me!”

“I don’t take orders from you!” He launches himself toward me again. I keep stumbling backward to avoid him, but the lobby isn’t that big, and it’s just a matter of time before—

“RYAN!”

A dark blur moves across my path. The next thing I know, Tim is standing with his back to me. He traps one of Ryan’s arms in each of his fists and begins throttling him while shouting.

“What are you doing here? Huh? What the fuck are you doing?”

Ryan begins to whimper and blubber.

“Why do you always have to be so damn crazy?” Tim insists, still shaking him. “You’re driving me nuts!”

“That’s enough,” I say while cautiously approaching.

Ryan is weeping openly now.

“Tim!” I shout. “That’s enough!”

He finally looks at me—his anger shifting to shame—and lets go.

“Is this what he did to you?” Ryan snivels, lifting the sleeves of his T-shirt to reveal red bands where Tim grabbed him.

A darker pair is just beneath them, rendered in black and blue.

“Is that why you left him? You know what? I’m sick of this.

You can have each other!” He marches toward the doors.

I turn to Tim for an explanation.

His attention isn’t on me. “Where are you going?”

Ryan spins around and wipes the snot off his nose. “Home! I’m going to run myself a nice hot bath and slit my wrists!” And with that, he bursts through the exit and disappears into the night.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tim murmurs, sounding exhausted.

He looks it too. Dark bags accompany the weary eyes he trains on me. His face is covered in scruff. The strong build I once adored ends in paunch when nearing his waist .

“I’m really sorry,” Tim says, voice raw. “I didn’t intend for any of this to happen.”

I cross my arms. “Shouldn’t you get after him?” I ask, nodding at the doors. “Or was that an empty threat?”

Tim swallows. “I don’t know anymore. But um… Yeah. I guess I’d better. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he never comes back here.”

His gaze lingers on me, full of longing, but instead of lust or barely concealed love, it’s more like a prisoner who sees a chance for escape.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Tim manages a half-hearted smile. “It was worth it,” he says before turning and trudging away.

As soon as the door closes, Brian rushes over to lock it and the others. “Should I call the police?” he asks while working.

“No. I’m all right.”

But is Tim? What about Ryan? Those bruises on his arms…

“Who was that?” Brian asks.

“An ex of mine. And his new boyfriend.”

“Oh. Ooh .”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry that I came and got you. Had I known—”

“It’s fine,” I assure him. “But in the future, if I get any surprise visitors, just take a message.”

I crack a smile to reassure him that no harm was done. Which isn’t completely true, because I’m deeply disturbed. My mind whirls on the drive home. What sort of person has Tim become? Is he abusive? Or being abused? He seemed so defeated. Beaten down. What the hell happened to him?

I’m relieved, when parking in front of my house, to see the windows glowing warmly. Jace just got back into town a few hours ago. I’m glad he’s home. I need him.

“Hey!” he says, meeting me in the entryway. Which is really just one corner of the living room. “How was tonight’s show?”

“The public went crazy,” I reply when hugging him. “They’re so desperate to get at me that I might need to hire some muscle.”

He pulls back with an inquisitive expression. I sigh and tell him everything. We’re on the couch by the time I finish, my head in his lap as I gaze up at him.

“That’s really sad,” Jace murmurs. “Are you okay?”

“Me? I’m fine. Tim is the one with a messed-up life. ”

“Sure, but I still remember how hard it was to see Victor hit rock bottom. That wasn’t easy. I would rather have found out that he was better off without me.”

“I would definitely prefer that.” Like if Tim kept showing up at my plays with an unbearably hot husband, drinking champagne with him at a table right in the front row where I had to look at them for the entire performance.

Give me that version of reality! I reach up to stroke my husband’s cheek. “Especially since I’m so happy.”

Jace nuzzles his face against my hand. “He might find that for himself still, you never know. Hey, did you eat at the theater?”

“No. I just snacked. My costume is kinda tight. I feel like every bite shows.”

“Then you probably don’t want to hear about the cheesecake I brought back for you.”

I sit up in excitement. “Direct from New York?”

“Mm-hm. We could share it.”

“How about you watch me eat and I’ll give you the leftovers when I’m done.”

He laughs. “That works too.”

We’re almost to the kitchen when I feel my pocket vibrate. I pull out my phone and see a text.

Hey! I hope this is still your number. Sorry about tonight. I’d like the chance to explain. I don’t want that to be the last time we ever see each other. Please.

“What’s up?” Jace asks when he notices me staring at the screen.

“Tim texted me,” I reply before handing him my phone.

Jace exhales when giving it back. “That’s a tough one.”

“I know. What would you do?”

Jace takes a small cardboard box out of the fridge. “The same thing I did for Victor—I’d try to help him.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t married to the sexiest flight attendant in the world back then. I am, and that makes it more complicated.”

Jace chuckles. “Somehow I don’t think the flight attendant will mind.”

“Are you sure? If the thought of me seeing him again bothers you, even in the slightest, then I won’t. Your feelings are more important to me. Or we could meet with him together. ”

Jace sets the box on the counter, places his hands on my shoulders, and looks me right in the eye. “I trust you, Ben. Do what you have to do.”

I wrap myself around his torso, squeezing him tight. “You really are the best, you know that?”

“I don’t mind being reminded on occasion,” he says, his arms tightening around me. “Now grab a fork. I’m looking forward to dessert, and I don’t mean the cheesecake.”