Page 6 of When Ben Loved Jace (He Loved Him #2)

My parents always spoiled my sister and me on the holidays when we were growing up.

Now that we’ve both flown the coop, they try even harder.

We have so many presents to open that we get fatigued halfway through and save some for the next day.

My mom makes our favorite meals. My dad breaks out old photo albums and gets weepy while rekindling old memories.

Karen and I often exchange looks during all of this, like we’re glad to have escaped their madness, when in truth, it does feel good to be home again.

Although I am eager to get back to my adult life.

Jace calls the day after our date to wish me a Merry Christmas. I hear from him again a few days later, the sounds of an airport in the background. “The airline I work for is throwing a big party downtown. There will be an open bar.”

“Most of them are on New Year’s Eve,” I reply.

After a pause and then a chuckle, he says, “Open bar means the drinks are free. The party won’t actually be at a bar.”

“I knew that!”

When he laughs again, I nuzzle the phone affectionately and accidently hang up on him. He calls right back, thankfully.

I try to keep myself occupied over the next couple of days.

When not hanging out with my family, I spend time with Allison.

We drive around our hometown to see what’s changed, although there’s one street in particular I don’t let us go down.

We do walk around the perimeter of our old high school, which seems to have been robbed of its power.

Previously it was a place of ridicule and fear.

Now the school seems small and insignificant.

I get my hair cut the day before New Year’s Eve—just a trim—and on the day itself, put on a dress shirt and slacks that Allison helped me shop for with the cash I got from Santa.

I’m glad she has good taste, because when I drive downtown to the location Jace provided, the neighborhood is a trendy mixture of boutique shops and high-rise apartments.

The specific address he gave me has valet parking out front, which I find too intimidating to use, so I drive to a parking garage and backtrack on foot.

I’m relieved to see Jace waiting for me on the sidewalk.

I smooch him in greeting before we go in and line up for the coat check .

“Impressive,” I say, glancing around at the sprawling interior.

“It is,” he replies. “Which makes me wonder why the airline can’t pay us more.”

“Preach!” a woman behind us says. “I’m filling up my purse with hors d'oeuvres .”

I’m amused to see, when Jace takes off his long coat, that he’s wearing his flight attendant uniform. “You said you like it,” he murmurs when noticing my smile. “And uh… I just flew into town an hour ago.”

“I love it,” I assure him.

“You look stunning,” he murmurs, taking my jacket from me so he can hand them both to the attendant.

We ride an elevator up forty stories to a penthouse.

When the doors ding open, I’m especially glad I got dressed up, because it’s an elegant affair.

The sort I’ve only ever seen on TV. Chandeliers, waiters carrying trays of appetizers, a live jazz band…

Tuxedos and evening gowns are prevalent. I suddenly feel underdressed.

I turn a manic smile on Jace as we walk into opulent surroundings. “Wow,” I squeak.

He doesn’t seem as impressed. “I’m guessing most of these people work for corporate.” His face lights up. “ That is my tribe.”

He points to a bar on the far side of the room where the vibe is much rowdier.

I hear screeching laughter. The revelers aren’t dressed as formally.

I already feel better when we escape into the din.

Jace keeps getting stopped by people who recognize him, but he insists on continuing until we reach the bar, where he turns to me.

“What’ll be?”

“Can I just get a Coke?” I ask with a grimace.

“Of course!”

That’s a relief. I’m not much for booze. I do indulge on occasion, but it only takes a few drinks to unleash the emotionally turbulent slut in me. I’m not ready for him to see that side just yet. Jace orders a martini.

“Shaken, not stirred,” he says, shooting me a wink.

“What’s that actually mean?”

“No idea,” he admits. “I’ve never had one before.”

After taking a sip, he nods in approval. “Not bad.”

I decline when he offers it for me to try.

“At least have the olive,” he insists. “These things gross me out. ”

“Deal! Next time you should ask the bartender to make it with a fortune cookie instead.”

He opens his mouth to reply but doesn’t get a word out because someone shouts his name from behind.

We turn to face the newcomer, which initiates a marathon of mingling with his coworkers.

That’s not what I wanted from the evening, but it’s not so bad, because he always makes sure to include me, and I get to hear funny stories.

Like how Jace will give pop quizzes to passengers who don’t pay attention to the safety demonstration, embarrassing them into learning, or rewarding those who know the right answers with candy.

“If you’re sitting in the emergency exit row, you better have the card in the seatback memorized!” an older woman cackles. “Otherwise your ass is getting moved to next to the lavatory.”

Jace has a reputation for being able to successfully deal with even the most unruly customer.

That gives me hope for us, because I can be a bit much at times.

He’s clearly popular with his colleagues, a small crowd of them surrounding us.

They’re a likeable group. Still, I wouldn’t mind a little time alone together.

Neither would he, judging from the way his gaze becomes more and more apologetic as the evening progresses.

After a few more rounds, he checks his watch and politely disengages himself, taking my hand and guiding me toward the roof terrace.

The fresh air is invigorating, despite being cold.

“Sorry about that,” Jace says. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea for a date.”

“No, I liked it!” I assure him. “Even though it’s hard sharing you with other people. I’m a greedy boy.”

He smiles at this. We move to a corner of the building to take in a stunning view of the sparkling city lights that surround us. “Ten more minutes,” he says, checking his watch again.

“Really?” I ask in excitement. “I didn’t realize it was so close. Wait! We need champagne!”

He pushes away from the rail. “Let’s go get some.”

“And lose this spot?” Our timing was lucky. People line the roof, wanting the same view. Which just happens to be the ideal place for a midnight kiss. “Wait here. I’ll go get it.”

I dash back inside, glancing around for one of the waiters I saw earlier.

The first two have empty trays. The third time is the charm.

I swipe two flutes and hustle back to the roof.

I slow once there, because Jace isn’t standing where I left him.

I see him pushing through the crowds, as if trying to reach someone, his expression drawn.

I follow his trajectory and see a guy not much bigger than me.

His hairstyle makes him stand out—a sort of overgrown mohawk that has flopped over to cover short-cropped hair.

Jace reaches him, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder to spin him around.

I can’t tell what they say to each other, but after exchanging a few sentences, the other guy laughs and pats him on the arm.

Then the stranger resumes talking to the woman he’s with.

Jace heads back to our corner, his expression pained.

He even pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.

I feel uneasy when walking over to meet him.

“Who was that?” I ask while handing him a glass.

“Hm?”

“The guy you were just talking to.”

“Oh.” Jace swallows. “Nobody. I think I’ve had too much to drink.”

“What do you mean?”

“TEN!” someone shouts.

Jace smiles at me. “Here we go!”

“NINE!”

I set aside my misgivings as the countdown continues, after carefully filing away the incident for later. Which is good, because Jace’s eyes have locked on mine again, making it easy to forget all my woes, no matter how old or recent they might be.

He clinks glasses with me. “I hope you’re a big part of my life next year. I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

“Same here,” I tell him. “Which is weird, because we barely know each other.”

“I feel like I’ve always known you,” he replies.

I don’t hear the countdown anymore, too drawn in by everything he has to offer.

The world around us erupts in cheers as soon as our lips touch, as if celebrating something long awaited.

Jace takes my glass and sets them both on the rail so he can wrap me in his arms, shielding me from the cold.

His heart is racing against the ear that I’ve got pressed against his chest. I think it might be the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.

He releases me again when booming explosions erupt. We turn to see colorful bursts of light fill the sky. We really do have the best seat in the house.

“Shit,” Jace hisses under his breath. “He hates fireworks. ”

“Who?”

He grimaces. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

I knew it! Here it comes…

“I’m a single dad.”

“You’re what? ”

“A cat dad,” he clarifies with a sheepish grin.

I glance toward the sky. “And he’s scared of fireworks?”

“Yeah. I’m worried about him. I hate to cut this short but— Actually, are you sober enough to drive?”

“Stone cold,” I assure him. “Let’s go!”

We dodge left and right through the crowd to reach the elevators.

“You probably think I’m crazy,” Jace says on the way down.

“Nope. The dog I grew up with was terrified of thunderstorms. He’d always press against one of us while shaking, the poor guy. So I totally get it.”