21. Jace Holloway

Chapter 21

Jace Holloway

It was supposed to be a quiet night. I’d planned on reviewing a stack of case files, maybe ordering that greasy takeout that always made me feel half-dead the next morning. Instead, I found myself on Theo’s doorstep, my pulse banging in my ears.

I don’t know exactly why, but I had the urge to text him, and I had really hoped he answered.

Which he did.

He responded to me with a simple request: I need air. Let’s go somewhere high.

Normally, I’d fire back a question—why, what’s going on?—but a gut feeling told me he needed this more than he was willing to say. He wasn’t one to spell out all the details, but I felt like something was going on with him. Something that gave him those sleepless, haunted eyes.

So here I was, outside his apartment door, telling myself not to overthink it. When he answered, I saw that flicker of relief on his face, the same flicker I felt in my chest. He didn’t smile widely—Theo rarely did—but the corners of his mouth lifted just enough. A silent thank-you.

It was a smile I was really growing to like.

“You ready?” I asked, trying to keep it casual.

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing a dark hoodie off the couch. “Let’s head up.”

I followed him down the hallway to the elevator. It was a much smoother ride than the elevator back at my place. We rode it in near silence as we reached the top level, then took a creaky metal staircase that led to the rooftop. A big red sign warned us about authorized personnel only.

I wasn’t supposed to ignore signs like that. But tonight, I guess we both felt like bending the rules.

As soon as we pushed the door open, the city’s nighttime breeze rushed around us. It smelled like recent rain, exhaust fumes, and something similar to freedom. Fresh and open. Much less stinky than the trash covered streets down below. The rooftop was dim except for a single floodlight by the door. We could hear the heartbeat of the city below—sirens, engines, random shouts. The sky was a deep navy, the last traces of dusk gone. Stars flickered overhead, but the city lights drowned out most of them.

Theo exhaled. “This’ll do,” he murmured, crossing to the edge. A tall concrete ledge provided a barrier, but it barely reached mid-torso on him. I hovered behind, wanting to be close in case his mind was somewhere else and he accidentally tipped forward. Paranoid? Maybe. But then again paranoia was something that was pretty important in my profession.

“Everything ok?” I asked gently.

He slid me a sidelong glance. “Could be worse,” he said, voice low. Then he shrugged in that way he did—like the rest of the story might strangle him if he let it out. “Thanks for coming.”

“No problem,” I said. “I was about to bury myself in paperwork and leftover lo mein.”

A faint curve touched his lips, maybe close to a real smile. “Paperwork can wait, right?”

“Exactly.” I leaned on the ledge, letting the wind brush over my face. The city below looked like a painting made of glittering lights, each building winking in its own pattern. Chaos, but from up here, it looked almost orderly, almost pretty. I couldn’t imagine a better view.

Then I glanced at Theo and realized I very well could.

He rested his elbows on the ledge. He stared out, jaw tight. “Couldn’t stand being cooped up in that apartment, waiting for another text or knock on the door.” He seemed to have caught himself on something. “Work’s been wild.”

I fought the urge to ask a thousand questions. Instead, I simply said, “Makes sense. I want to climb into the sky, too, on some days.”

A pause, filled by a distant siren and muffled horns from below. Then Theo inhaled deeply and turned to me. “I appreciate you,” he said, voice unexpectedly raw. “For not pushing me when I can’t share everything. And… for coming here.”

The sincerity in his eyes made my chest tighten. “Hey,” I said, stepping a little closer, “I’m just glad you texted instead of trying to handle it alone.”

He let out a shaky exhale, as though that tiny bit of vulnerability cost him. “Alone gets old.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I had my own brand of lonely, especially with my work, coming home at weird hours, burying myself in coffee and takeout, ignoring the emptiness. But I’d gotten used to it.

Theo was a reminder that maybe I didn’t have to be so used to it.

The wind gusted, ruffling his hair. He wore it shorter on the sides, a bit longer on top. Messy, but in a way that could be deliberate. Something about the darkness overhead, combined with the way the city lights glowed against his face, made me aware of every subtle shift in his expression. Tension in his jaw, shadows under his eyes.

What the hell is going on with you, Theo?

We stood like that for a minute, letting the city speak for us. The warm throbbing of nightlife drifted up, a reminder that life went on despite everything. Eventually, he pulled something from his hoodie pocket: a pair of beer cans, half-chilled from his fridge. He held one out.

I laughed softly, accepting it. “How’d you know I’m into IPAs?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Because you’re gay,” he said, getting a genuine laugh out of me. “Besides, it felt like the right vibe.” The can hissed as he popped it open.

“Well you’re right. On both accounts.” I took a sip. The slight fizz felt good on my tongue, tasting like it had hints of mango and guava. We clinked cans in a silent toast. “To fresh air,” I said.

“To surviving,” he answered, a bit too darkly, then shot me a crooked smile like he was trying to lighten it. “I mean… to surviving the day.”

I nudged him with my elbow, more gently than usual. “You’re not alone, you know.” The words came out, plain and simple. “Whatever’s going on, I’m around if you need me.”

Theo studied me, gaze flicking over my face as though searching for any sign that I was just giving him lip service. “I know,” he said softly, then sipped more beer. “And… thank you, Jace. That means a hell of a lot.”

My name on his tongue sent a warmth through my chest. I looked away, clearing my throat. The large and open—and empty —space of the rooftop made my thoughts drift. Made my cock twitch. Our sexual chemistry was explosive and my dick was practically trained to start leaking in Theo’s presence.

But this moment went deeper than sex. I just wanted to be. Wanted to let this moment cradle us. “Anyway, how about we forget the city for a second.” I gestured at the swirling mass of black and purple overhead. “Look at that sky. Think we’ll get stars tonight, or is the light pollution too bad?”

His gaze shifted upward. “This is New York, light pollution is dog shit every day.” Then, “But I see one star out there, right?” He pointed. I squinted, noticing a faint twinkle near the horizon. It could’ve been a plane, for all we knew, but I liked to think of it as a star.

“It’ll do,” I said. We both chuckled. A weird sense of comfort settled between us, reminiscent of late-night teenage confessions—like we were kids, lying in the grass, dreaming big. Except now we were grown, jaded in our own ways, meeting in the margins of each other’s lives.

We lapsed into quiet again.

This time, it felt deeper, more intimate. The hush unspooled between us. I thought about telling him I’d gotten an invite to a dinner with the Stonewall team in a couple of nights—some social gathering I was half-dreading, half-looking forward to. Maybe I’d ask him to come afterward, or if he wanted to meet me for a drink once I escaped. But I hesitated. We were still balancing on the edge of each other’s worlds, neither fully stepping in.

But, well, fuck it. Maybe it was time to dive head first.

“I’ve got a dinner thing soon—with some colleagues. Not something I can skip. But after that, maybe we… do something normal? Grab a bite, or watch a movie, or…” I trailed off.

He glanced my way, head tilting. “Yeah. That’d be good.” A small, real smile. “I could use some normal.”

“Me too,” I admitted. “Between murder investigations and… whatever it is you’re juggling, a night of mindless fun sounds like paradise.”

He let out a breath, some tension in his shoulders loosening. “It’s a deal then. Let’s plan it.” He paused, eyes roaming the rooftops like he was trying to store this memory, lock it away for darker days. “If I vanish for a bit, though, don’t freak. I might have to… handle things.”

I swallowed, mind conjuring up all sorts of scenarios. “Just keep in touch. I might be a detective, but I don’t want to go sniffing after you if I don’t have to.” It came out lighter than I felt.

Truth was, I would flip the entire city to find him if something went wrong.

He gave a solemn nod. “Deal.” Then, like he couldn’t bear the weight of that seriousness, he held up his beer in a small toast. I tapped my can to his again.

“You cold?” he asked, noticing the slight shiver I tried to conceal.

“A little,” I admitted. The night air was crisp.

He peeled off his hoodie and handed it over without a second thought. “Here. I run warm.”

I didn’t bother refusing. Slipping it on felt like a hug from him—a comforting, subtle closeness that made my cheeks heat. Smelled like him, too. Like pine and leather. Sexy. “Thanks,” I said, voice quieter than usual.

We both looked out again, the city lights glowing, a million stories intertwining below. Even from here, I could see headlights creeping along jammed roads. Such small movements that amounted to an endless swirl of life.

“You sure you’re okay with heights?” I asked again, half-joking.

He snorted softly. “I’m not about to jump, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I flinched at the dark humor. “I just… want to make sure you’re good.”

Theo’s gaze met mine. Loaded, heavy. “I’m good,” he said. “Here, with you, at least.”

And that. That shit stripped me bare. I managed to smile, hooking a finger lightly with his. The simplest contact. He let it happen, squeezed back gently, and let go.

“Someday,” I murmured, “we’ll do this in a more normal way. Maybe we’ll find a rooftop bar that actually allows us up there, no danger of security chasing us off.”

He huffed a laugh. “Now where’s the thrill in that?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “True. Guess we’re both drawn to the edge.”

The wind picked up, swirling behind us, rattling the door we came through. Storm clouds loomed, turning the horizon black and hazy. The hush felt final, like the city giving us permission to call it a night.

“I should probably get going,” I said eventually, draining the last of my fruity IPA. “Still got case notes to flip through before tomorrow. Lucky me.”

Theo’s fingers brushed my arm lightly. “Thanks,” he said again, “for coming up here with me.”

“Anytime.” I shrugged. “You need me, you’ve got my number.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgement, eyes saying more than his voice ever would. It was almost odd experiencing him out here, away from Chained, away from that sexually loaded environment.

Odd and thrilling and intoxicating. Same way I felt when he rescued me from that terrible Tinder date.

Theo was a rush of pleasure and passion even when he simply stood next to me.

Fuck. I was really falling for this man…

We started back toward the metal door, leaving behind the hum of the rooftop. The moment we were inside and descending the stairwell, it felt like the world closed in again—narrow walls, the whiff of stale air. My phone buzzed in my pocket, probably a reminder about the Stonewall dinner in a day or two. I ignored it for now.

At the hallway leading to his apartment, we paused. I felt the quiet tension, the weight of what wasn’t said. All the secrets he kept, all the details I never asked. But maybe that was okay. Maybe we were building trust one step at a time.

I took of his sweater and handed it back to him before reaching out and touching his arm. “Take care of yourself, Theo.”

He nodded, mouth forming a small, grateful line. “You too, Jace.”

He leaned in and we shared a soft, passionate kiss. Someone down the hall unlocked and opened the door, causing us to separate much sooner than I would have liked.

We went our separate ways, me heading toward the elevator, him turning back to his door. I glanced over my shoulder once, caught him watching. My heartbeat kicked. I gave a short wave and disappeared behind the sliding doors.

As the elevator descended, I stared at my reflection in the metal. My face looked tired, but there was something else there—hope, maybe. Tomorrow, or whenever we next met, we’d tackle dinner plans, maybe get lost in mindless jokes. We’d try normal.

And for two men used to shadows, that sounded like one hell of a dream.