Twenty-five

Twenty-five

JACE

Almost nothing centers me the way running does. The cold morning wind whipping at my face, my muscles burning as I press them to move faster than normal. I feel invincible when I go a little farther or finish a little faster. All the mental stress leaves my body. I'm clearheaded and in a zone where anxiety can't reach me. It's the only time that I feel like I have complete control. I'm superhuman.

I run up the path to the house, only stopping when I reach the porch. I open the top of the water I left on the front step and gulp down half of it before I enter. Everything is quiet this early in the morning, and I normally like the time alone, but today it reminds me that Desideria will continue to find a way to avoid me. It guts me to think that she regrets what happened in the pool the other day.

After removing my running shoes, I grab my protein drink from the refrigerator and head down to the gym, flipping the switch on the wall. The room lights up and my workout playlist of angry punk and contagious '80s rock music pumps through the speakers. After putting on my workout shoes, I begin my upper body routine.

Placing the weight to the heaviest I can pull down, I straddle the bench, grip the handle, and begin my set. I try to clear my mind and focus on controlling my muscles, but I'm haunted by the image of red waves of hair and soft skin. Even if Desi regrets what we did, how can she possibly hide from it? I think about it more than I should. And dammit if I don't crave that rush again.

I'm lost in thought and finally nodding my head along to the beat of the music, getting into the steady rhythm of lifting when I get that odd sense that I'm not alone. I glance up into the mirror in front of me and see Desi standing at the doorway, her hands tucked into her hoodie pocket . . . a hoodie that's so long it's covering the shorts she's surely wearing underneath.

Cannon's hoodie.

Ouch.

"Jace? Can we talk?" she asks, stepping down into the gym, and my heart immediately goes into overdrive.

Not only is someone in my sacred space, the one place in this house besides the bathroom where I can truly get away from all my thoughts, avoid the never-ending spirals, push away the anxiety even if only for a moment . . . but it's Desi. She's in my space.

I want her here.

I don't want her here.

I can't have her here.

"Yeah, of course," is what I say, though. Because of course I want to talk to her. I ease the bar back in place and pat the bench next to me after wiping it down with a clean towel. "Sit."

With a small smile, she sits next to me, leaving some space, but not much. That makes me feel a little better. Maybe she doesn't completely regret it. "Hey."

"Hey," I say, bumping her shoulder with mine. And because I can't help myself, because I need to know why, I add, "Nice hoodie. Little big for you." I throw her a knowing look for good measure.

Her face flushes and she shakes her head, turning her entire body toward mine, her knees brushing my thighs. "It's Cannon's, but it's not like that. We went ice skating last night and I got cold. I forgot to give it back, and what can I say, it's cozy. Give me something of yours and you'll never see it in your closet again," she teases.

Images of Desi wearing my button-up shirts, boxer shorts, and my favorite Spider-Man T-shirt flash in my head. I'm tempted to go pull them all out of my closet and hand them over to her. "I'll think about what I can spare," I say, hoping I match her playfulness. A few days without her and I missed our easy banter. "I'm taking it that you didn't come down into the dungeon of self-inflicted torture, as you once called it, to ask if you can borrow my evolution of the cyborg T-shirt."

That pulls a real smile from her. "You'd never give me that T-shirt. But I'd take it." She clears her throat and pushes a curl behind her ear. "No. I wanted to talk to you about something important. I think you and I need to cool it a little bit, put some space between us."

And there it is, another thing in my life that was too good to be true. I wasn't expecting forever with Desi, but I was hoping that she would want this with me for a little longer. Her line is so clearly drawn, and I won't push to cross it, but I want to know why.

"Can I ask what brought you to this decision?"

"Of course. You may not like it, but I'll tell you the truth because you deserve that. I'm going to be leaving soon, Jace. I've only got a little over five weeks left. And when I go, I won't be coming back. Ever. And the more I—" Her voice cracks and tears fill her eyes. I move to pull her into my chest, something, anything to make her feel better, but she stands and holds up one hand. "Let me get this out. The more time I spend with you, the more and more attached I am. And that's only going to make it worse when I leave. Do you understand? It's not—it's not anything you've done, I just—you've made it real clear that you can't be what I need. And if I have any hope of finding that in the time I have left, I can't spend every second with you. No matter how badly I want to." Her last sentence is a whisper, and when she looks up at me, her eyes are full of such profound sadness, it pierces my heart.

"I'm sorry, Desi. I wish—"

"That I would have come into your life sooner, when you still had half your heart to give me."

I flinch as she repeats the words I said before leaving her room the other night. My desire to confess my feelings while I thought she was asleep was so stupid. I should have kept my mouth shut.

"Desi, I didn't mean to hurt you. I wanted to tell you how much I care for you, but that wasn't the right way to say it or do it." I stand and move in front of her, but I don't touch her. Not yet. "But I don't want to lose you as a friend. Tell me that's not changing."

When did I become so needy? What has this chaotic demon-woman done to me? Nothing I would ever want to change, but it's not something I'm used to either.

"Of course not," she says, and she takes the tiniest step toward me. "I wish nothing had to change."

"Me too." I lift the hem of my shirt over my face, pretending to wipe away the sweat, but it's just an attempt to hide for a second. Everything I say feels wrong. Every thought I have is damning. I don't see how we recover from this. How do we go back to just being friends when I would bleed just to touch her one more time?

"So you're going to start dating again?" That question shouldn't hurt as badly as it does. I have to pull it together. I'm falling apart over a woman who was never mine.

"Not exactly," she says, pushing her fingers through her hair. A tiny bit of hope rises in my chest. Maybe I won't have to endure watching her fall for someone else. I don't know if I could handle it.

"Then what is your plan? It seemed like you were going to try—"

"I told Cannon," she blurts. "I told him I'm a demon, the truth about why I need to find a partner so fast, and I asked him to come back to Infernis with me if I can't find someone else. Because I don't want to marry a stranger my father picks for me. I at least want to be with someone I like. And he agreed." She takes a deep breath. "He agreed to be my ‘backup plan' if I don't find someone else. But I know that may not happen. And to be honest, I can't even imagine searching for it again." She sinks down onto the weight bench and props her elbows on her knees, hanging her head. "I'm so lost, Jace."

"I'm sorry, Desi."

I'm sorry for so much that I can never say to her. I'm sorry I'm an emotional mess. I'm sorry I can't open myself up and be what she needs. I'm sorry that I've caused her an ounce of heartache. I'm sorry I let myself pretend for even the smallest moment of time that she could be mine.

I need to move, to refocus my thoughts. I'm two seconds away from growing my bangs out and spending my days wallowing in depressing music. I walk past her, but not before placing my hand on her shoulder and squeezing once, hoping it gives her some kind of comfort. It's not the touch I wish I could give her, but at least it's something.

"What can I do to fix this?" I ask, pacing the room.

She looks up at me and turns around on the bench, throwing a leg over either side. I struggle to keep my eyes on her face and my thoughts safely focused on the topic at hand.

"I don't know, Jace. Nothing short of—" She stops and shakes her head. "There's no use saying it because it's not going to happen. You've told me and shown me in every possible way, and I respect your decision. That's all I'm trying to do." Getting off the bench, she meets me where I stand. For the first time since she came into the room she puts her hands on me, sliding them up my abdomen, over my rib cage, and around to the back of my neck. "Because if I continue to spend time with you the way we've been spending time together the last few weeks, well . . . I'm going to become one of those people who just keeps pushing for the answer I want. And I don't want to be like that. I just can't leave this room with you thinking I don't want you or you did something wrong. Because it couldn't be further from the truth."

"Everything is so confusing about this. But I do know one thing." I cup her face in my hand and run my thumb over her cheekbone. "I meant what I said to you the other night. You deserve better than being handed my broken heart and my flimsy trust. I do wish it was different, Desideria."

The tears in her eyes finally spill over and she nods, swiping them away with the back of her hand. "I know you meant it. I think that's why it hurt so bad. Because it also enrages me to no end that Hannah and your mother wrecked your trust so much that you can't even let me all the way in. Not just me, but anyone. I wish you would've let me kick Hannah's ass the other day. I could've knocked her out with one left hook. And your mom. I don't even know the whole story about what she did but I'd—"

"She left a seventeen-year-old kid to figure out how he was going to pay for his dad's cancer treatments when she decided being a wife and mother wasn't her thing anymore. I was there holding my dad's hand when he took his final breath, and she was in Florida starting her new life without us. No one was there to comfort me through it. I planned the funeral, I paid the hospital bills, and I sent her what was left of the life they built together in a single check. She cashed it without so much as a thank-you. I gave Hannah part of me that I had protected against that hurt, thinking it would be enough. It wasn't, and when she left, she decimated that too." I stop talking and realize I'm out of breath. After everything she has done for me, I wanted to give Desi something. So I offered her the truth that I'd only shared with one other person, Dr. Holloman. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was a small token to show her how much she means to me.

Her lips part and without hesitation, she throws her arms around my neck and pulls me close to her. "Jace, that is . . . I don't even know what to say," she whispers against my ear. "I'm so, so sorry. You deserve so much better than that. I know that was hard for you to share with me. Thank you for doing that. It means more than you know."

I nod and pull her back to my chest. If this is it, if I never get to touch her again, I'm going to be selfish and make this moment last. The way her body fits against mine, the way she smells, the sound of her breathing, the feel of her skin, I'll take and take until she is done with me, because I don't want to be done with this little hurricane.