“Yeah?”
“Ask me,” he says on an exhale, and I smile against his skin, knowing exactly what he means.
“Tell me something new.”
“I think… this was the best birthday I ever had.”
His words melt straight into me—burn away all the lonely, hollow pieces from the last five months and fill them with warmth. With peace. I hold him a little tighter, a little closer, and savor it. This moment. Thisnow. This precious time that wedohave.
I don’t care what the future brings. Because in the end, I know he’ll come back to me, and I’ll come back to him.
Because this, right here, is exactly where we’re meant to be.
SEVEN
“Jace,pleasestopdoingthat to the poor banana. It’s obscene,” Missy complains from the sleek couch in the living area the next day at breakfast. Or lunch, actually.
Jace and I fell asleep somewhere around four or five in the morning. We talked for hours after our second round—one filled with languid kisses and lingering touches as he made slow, slow love to me, having gotten hard again while still inside me.
I really,really, loved that part. It’s like he owns me, body and soul.
With his nose pressed to mine, our mouths pushed together, and our eyes locked, he took me unhurriedly, lovingly, passionately, until we came on mutual gasps. We talked, and cuddled, and talked some more. Until we went for number three—because sleep is overrated and time with him is limited. That time, he railed me from behind until he stuffed his fingers in my mouth to keep me from screaming too loud.
I’m kinda glad the bus was driving, so the hum and rumble drowned out at leastsomesounds that we made.
Regardless, it wasawesome.
Just an hour ago he took me to mind-blowing heightsagainas I woke up on my belly, with him atop me and already inside me. After showing me how much he missed me—pounding me into the mattress, hands entwined above my head, whispering endearments and filthy things into my ear until I came all over the sheets in a shuddering, incoherent mess—we stumbled into the tiny bathroom to shower together.
Yeah, we had to take turns under the spray, because it’s tight as fuck, but we somehow made it work. Washed each other, kissed each other, our lips puffy and bruised.
I have more than one bite mark, have beard-burn every-fucking-where from his stubble, and my skin is not the only thing that’s aching. My ass is deliciously sore, but I’m not complaining. I missed that. Fuck, I missedhim.I haven’t been this freaking happy andsatedin what feels like forever.
Even now, I can’t stop touching him—even though he’s in front of me at the breakfast nook, mere feet away. Our legs are tangled beneath the table, my left hand in his right as we both try to eat one-handed, stealing glances at each other and smiling like goofballs the entire time.
It’s ridiculous, really. Ridiculously perfect.
Even if heiscurrently molesting a banana—sparkling gray eyes focused on me as he pushes the peeled fruit all the way to the back of his throat.
“That’s just bizarre,” Ava mutters from the couch. She’s curled up between Missy and Asher, clearly distracted from whatever’s playing on the flat screen before them. She’s clad in a very fuzzy pink robe, munching on some Froot Loops. “I can’t top that. Sorry sweetie.” She pats Asher on his knee before finger-gunning me one-handed. “You’re one lucky dude, King.”
I almost choke on my blueberry oatmeal, face flaming. Yeah—he went on a grocery run yesterday in between interviews to get me healthy food so I could stick to my diet on this bus. It’s too damn cute that he thought of that. Didn’t even cross my mind when I hopped on the plane. Fuck my diet. Seeing Jace is more important.
“I’m just happy you’re back to being you, Jace. Banana blowies and all,” Ava goes on.
I slant my head in her direction, frowning, concern rising. “What do you mean, he’s back to beinghim?”
She tucks a strand of pink hair behind her ear. “Oh, he was still Jace. Just… less, you know,Jace.”
“Less morally offensive,” Missy adds before taking a bite out of her own bowl.
“Ah. You mean pornographic?” I grin, already knowing my man.
I squeeze his hand, and he winks at me, mouth full of banana, the hickey I left on his neck dark and proud against the white collar of his v-neck.
“If you’re done with your banana-dick. Here’s some fan mail for you guys to answer.” Jodie strolls over from the kitchenette, a stack of papers in one hand, a mug of tea in the other, which she sets on the table. She hands some papers to the trio on thecouch, then slides in next to Jace and hands the rest over to him, minus a couple from the top.
“Don’t people just message on social media or send emails and stuff?” I ask her as she blows on her tea, eyeing the papers. “Is sending actual fan mail still a thing?”
