Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty Four
I stood just outside his door, trying to summon the courage to actually walk inside.
He'd already gone in, without looking back, saying, “Shut the door behind you “
I stood in the hallway trying to have a pep talk with myself.
Be professional, Lena. You need this job so you can send Gerard packing out of your family home. Be on your best behaviour, and don’t let him get a reaction out of you, no matter what he says or does.
The room was enormous.
I didn't know why that still surprised me about this house, that every room was just so much larger than it needed to be, larger than entire sections of the house I'd grown up in.
I'd been too busy being frustrated at the loud music situation the last time I’d been in here that I barely looked around the room, but I did now that I was more clear-headed.
I noticed it had high ceilings and a window that ran almost floor to ceiling along the far wall looking out over the back garden, and it was full, floor to ceiling, of expensive things.
A sound system that probably cost a fortune, shelves full of equipment and gadgets and many other things I couldn't name.
There was a gaming setup in the corner with a screen so large it was practically a cinema, the ergonomic chair in front of it moulded and padded and clearly worth more than my entire desk at home.
I briefly wondered what Jace would think if he ever came to her house, if he would wrinkle his nose at the ordinary broken-down stuff that filled her home.
Focus, Lena. That’s never going to happen.
I looked around for somewhere to sit so we could start.
There was the gaming chair.
And there was the bed.
The bed was a California king, which I knew because I'd seen them in magazines and thought they looked like something you'd need a map to navigate.
It sat in the middle of the room as big as a small country, covered in white linen sheets that were perfectly made, taking up a frankly irresponsible amount of floor space.
Other than that, the room was surprisingly bare of any personality. Expensive, yes, but I thought that was on purpose.
But there was nothing that said Jace Dawson lives here except for a wide display of dozens of athletic trophies and medals set up behind a showcase, and a row of pin-up posters along the wall above the gaming setup.
The posters had young women in various states of nudity looking over their shoulders with practised lewd expressions, and I looked at those for exactly one second before looking away with embarrassment.
Boys… so weird.
Speaking of the boy, Lena spotted Jace leaning against the shelving unit across from the bed with his arms crossed and his phone in one hand.
His sweatpants were riding so low on his hips that the waistband of his boxers was visible above them, revealing a happy trail and a perfectly sculpted V line.
He hadn't put a shirt on. I was trying not to notice this at all, because I wasn’t a perv, and I thought it was disrespectful to stare, but I couldn’t help it.
I had never met anyone built quite the way he was, wide through the shoulders, the kind of width that came from years of actual athletic training, his chest and arms and the flat plane of his stomach all communicating the same thing, that this was a body that was used, genuinely and regularly used, not just maintained for appearances.
There was a diagonal scar across his left ribs, small and faded, and a bruise at his shoulder, probably from tackling someone on the field, that was turning yellow at the edges. He wore all of it with indifference.
I set my books down on the small table near the door and cleared my throat, hoping my blush wasn’t too obvious.
"Where do I sit?" I asked.
He gave me a look. "Are you serious?”
"I mean… There's only one chair."
"There's also," he said, gesturing with his phone at the approximately seven hundred square feet of mattress behind him, "that."
"I'm not sitting on your bed." I scoffed, looking away.
"Why? It’s a bed, it’s only furniture."
"I'm aware of what it is."
"So what’s the problem then?”
"I'll sit here, thank you very much,” I said, and lowered myself to the floor, crossing my legs and arranging my books in front of me with as much dignity as the situation allowed, which was very little.
He looked at me on his floor for a moment, said nothing and went back to his phone.
I uncapped my pen.
"Also," I said, looking very his shoulders because I couldn’t bear making any more eye contact with him, "could you please put a shirt on?”
He looked up at me, one eyebrow raised as if to ask, “What the fuck is your problem?”
"It's distracting," I said, very calmly, like I was making a reasonable logistical request. "I can't concentrate. Also, this is a formal setting, and it would be better if you were dressed to reflect that. Please."
He held my gaze for a second with an expression I couldn't quite read. Then he pushed off the shelf, went to his wardrobe, and came back with a black Henley that he pulled over his head in one motion.
It did not help.
It was somehow worse, actually, the soft dark fabric pulling across his shoulders and chest too explicit for words, but I smiled and said "thank you" and looked at my notes because this was fine and I was a professional and I was here to do a job.
"Phone off, please, until our session is over," I said.
He looked at it, then at me, grumbling with irritation,” Are you seriously going to make me do this too?”
"The doctor says you’ll survive," I said, unable to stop the sarcasm.
He turned it face down on the gaming table, which wasn't off, but at least it was a compromise, so I decided to accept it.
"Okay." I slid the assessment across the floor toward him. "I need you to sit down, and I need you to do this assessment, okay? Abd no arguments."
He looked at it with eyes full of venom and hatred, as though the paper had personally offended him.
"It's not a test, Jace. So you can relax. " I said, for what felt like the hundredth time. "There's no grade. It just shows me where…"
"Where I'm stupid."
"No, not stupid. I’m sure you’re perfectly smart. It just shows where the gaps are in your abilities, which everyone has. Even me, the queen of nerds." I looked up at him. "So please."
He grumbled something under his breath, which I chose to interpret as agreement, and folded himself down onto the floor across from me, which was unexpected. I'd assumed he'd take the gaming chair and make me crane my neck up at him for two hours.
I had no idea what magic or maybe luck was making him so agreeable today, but I thanked the stars for it, because he picked up the paper, looked at it and nodded.
"Fine, I’m going to need a pen," he said.
I reached for it at the same time he did, and his hand brushed the top of mine.
The contact lasted maybe one second, probably less. His fingers over my knuckles, warm and accidental, and then we both pulled back at the same time, and the pen rolled between us, and neither of us picked it up immediately.
I looked at the page, biting my lip nervously while my heart beat a lot faster, racing in my chest at the buzz if electrify that passed through my fingers.
I picked up the pen and held it out to him without looking at his face, and he took it from the other end, and that was that. We were moving on, and this was fine.
For twenty minutes, he worked in silence, and I sat beside him making notes, and the room was quiet except for the scratch of his pen and the occasional sound of him exhaling hard through his nose when something gave him trouble.
He was struggling with question seven. I could tell by the way he'd written something, crossed it out in frustration, written something else, crossed that out too, and was now staring at the page as if he would murder it.
I shifted closer so I could see what exactly the issue was. It would be easier if there wasn’t as much space between him and me.
"Is that one giving you trouble?" I leaned in slightly to see what he'd written. "If you just show me where you're…"
In the exact moment that I turned my head to face him, he turned his too and to my horror, our lips brushed.
It was the softest, most accidental, most catastrophic kiss, and I pulled back so fast I nearly knocked my books over.
"Oh my God." I let out a small scream, scrambling to my feet, gathering papers with shaking hands, not looking at him, not looking at anything, my face absolutely on fire from my chin to my hairline.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I was just trying to see the question, please just finish the assessment, and I'll, when you're done, just, I'll be, I'm sorry…”
I ran out the door before I could finish the sentence.
Just when things were going well, I had to be a klutz and ruin it! Get a grip, Lena!