My mom would’ve welcomed Nova into her life with open arms. She would’ve been the daughter she never had. It makes me sad to think about what could’ve been if she hadn’t died, but she’s gone, and I can’t change that.
I twirl Nova around the dance floor and we grow quiet, lost in our thoughts.
The ballroom is decorated in blacks and whites with large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The floor is shiny black and white marble and it’s so clean that I can see my reflection in it when I look down.
“Confession—I dream in black and white.”
I look down at Nova at her words. The irony of them, when I was just thinking about the black and white room, isn’t lost on me.
“Color is overrated,” I whisper in her ear.
She shivers and her body moves closer to mine.
I breathe in the scent of her shampoo—lavender and something else that’s entirely Nova.
“Your turn,” she says, as I spin her around.
I think for a moment. “Confession,” I begin, “I used to think happy endings were overrated.”
“And now?”
“I’m looking at mine.”
Her cheeks warm at my words and she pillows her face on my chest, over my heart.
This girl has singlehandedly turned my whole world upside down. It’ll never be the same again, and neither will I, but it’s all for the better.
We dance to another song before everyone’s called to the tables to eat.
I groan as I find our place at my father’s table.
I wish I could avoid him all evening, but it’s an impossibility.
Thankfully, he’s tied up beside some politician buddies of his so Nova and I end up a few seats away from him.
When we’re seated, Nova’s nervousness returns. She seems jumpy and almost like she’s looking for someone. It makes no sense.
Our meal is served, and with my father across the table it makes it difficult to talk to her about it, but I know something is going on.
The meal seems to drag on forever, and by the time we’re finally served dessert I’m ready to make a dash for the door.
My dad tries to drag me into the conversation any chance he gets, because apparently looking like a family man makes him more desirable or something. I don’t fucking know.
“This is my son, Jacen,” my father introduces me.
“Nice to meet you,” the man holds his hand out to me. He’s tall with black hair, speckled with gray at the roots. “I’m Harry Mitchell.”
“No,” Nova gasps beside me.
“Novalee?” the guy beside Harry, who’s closer to my age, and probably this guy’s son, speaks.
My head swivels from the guy to Nova. I’ve never seen Nova look so utterly terrified before. She’s pale and sweaty, like she’s just seen a ghost.
“Novalee,” he says again, “is that you?”
She forces her head up to look at him and she looks like she’s about to burst into tears. “Hi, Owen.”
“You two know each other?” I ask.
Harry clears his throat and fiddles with his tie. “They were friends growing up.”
“We dated, Dad.” Owen rolls his eyes. “How are you?” he asks Nova.
“Fine,” Nova replies, her eyes darting down to her lap.
“Can we talk?” Owen asks her.
“I don’t think that’s the best idea—” his father interrupts and Owen glares at him.
“Please,” Owen says to Nova.
She nods and stands from the table.
“Nova?” I question, my hand grazing hers.
She shakes her head, pleading with her eyes for me to let her explain later. I nod and watch her go, even though it kills me.
Once they’re gone, Harry clears his throat. “I’ll see you later, Heath. Take care.”
He melts away from our table and I’m left alone with my father. His eyes flash as he appraises me.
“I take it you didn’t know about Novalee and Owen?”
“And you did?” I counter—because if he did …
He shakes his head and smiles slowly. “No, just … fate, perhaps?” He smiles and leans forward, crossing his fingers together. “If you didn’t know about this, what else do you think you might not know about this girl?”
I clench my teeth, anger eating away at me, because for once, he’s right.
Nova
The door to the apartment closes and Jace throws his tux jacket on the kitchen chair.
Three, two, one …
“I didn’t want to talk about this in the car, but I need to know about that guy.”
I shrug and kick off my heels, audibly sighing in relief. “You know I dated once before.”
He wets his lips, his hands on his hips. I can tell he’s fighting not to get angry, and I can’t blame him.
“Do you still love him?”
I snort. “Owen? Of course not.”
“I saw the way he looked at you,” Jace whispers. “He … he looked at you like you’d been ripped away from him and he’d been starving ever since.”
I bite my tongue, fighting tears. “My history with Owen is … complicated.”
“I just, I want to know if … if there’s any part of you that longs for him.”
I step forward and close the space between us. “Absolutely not,” I answer. “What I had with Owen is long over. He’s a part of my past, a huge part, but that’s it. Nothing more. I promise.”
He nods, and gently caresses my cheek. “I’m beginning to realize that you’re incredibly important to me. Maybe too important.” He rubs his finger over my bottom lip, tracing the contour. “I love you.”
Cold.
I am cold all over.
Frozen.
I can’t move.
“What?” I gasp, the tiniest little sound.
“I love you,” he says again with such surety.
Three words I thought I would never hear from Jace. Three words I never counted on. Three words that I longed for desperately.
The tears that had pooled in my eyes, spill over. “Really?”
He nods, his hand gliding down to rest at the back of my neck. “I love you,” he says again.
I laugh through my tears. “I love you too,” I breathe.
I’m not just saying the words because he did, I do mean them. Jace has meant the world to me for far longer than the time we’ve been together, and this time has only served to show me how perfect we are for each other.
He crashes his lips to mine and I gasp into his mouth. His tongue slides against mine as he backs me up until I hit the wall. He picks me up, sliding my dress up my legs so he can caress my bare thighs.
He carries me to the bed and sets me down beside it.
I turn around and look at him coyly.
He gets the messages and finds the zipper of my dress, sliding it down.
When it’s undone, I let the dress fall down and pool at my feet.
I turn around to face him in my black lacy lingerie. I never wear anything so fancy, but Thea told me a fancy dress called for matching lingerie, so we ended up shopping some more after lunch that day.
Jace’s eyes heat with desire and my nipples tighten.
The expensive lingerie was worth every penny for that look in his eyes.
He makes quick work of the buttons on his black vest, then his dress shirt, and finally his pants.
When he stands in only his boxer-briefs, we stare at each other for a moment.
I’m sure he must be able to hear my heart because it’s beating far too fast and loud.
Love.
Jace loves me.
And I love him.
I never in a million years imagined this scenario, but we make perfect sense.
“Are you going to touch me?” I ask.
He smirks. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”
He moves lightning fast, and I scream as my feet go out from under me.
My back lands on the bed, and I boun
ce a few times.
“That was mean.” I laugh.
He drops down on top of me, holding his larger body above me in a push-up position.
“You like it.” He grins and kisses me.
My whole body sings at his touch.
He kisses down my neck and between my breasts and over my stomach. He stops with his lips poised above my panties.
My chest rises and falls with each heavy breath I take as I wait.
It feels like forever before he loops his fingers into each side of my underwear and pulls them down my hips. He drops them onto the floor and his eyes shine as he appraises my body, stopping on my covered breasts.
“That needs to go too.”
I sit up and he finds the clasp easily. It pops and the straps slide down my arms, falling to the bed.
He covers my breasts with his hands, testing the fullness. My back arches into his touch.
I’ve never craved someone before.
Their touch.
Their scent.
Their everything.
But Jace awakens some slumbering beast inside me that I never knew existed.
I push at his shoulders and he falls to the bed with a smirk.
“Why do you always get to have all the fun?” I ask.
“What do you want to do?” he asks.
I lean over him, my hair making a curtain around us, and whisper in his ear, “Anything I want.”
He lies back on the pillows, crossing his arms behind his head.
“I’m yours.”
I lick my lips as I remove his boxer-briefs and my heart thunders in anticipation.
I take him in my hand, making a fist around him.
He hisses between his teeth and my head jerks up. “Did I hurt you?”
He shakes his head. “No. Definitely not.”
I lower my head and wrap my lips around him.
“Oh, fuck.” His hips buck off the bed.
I’m used to being the powerless one, so having him come undone beneath me fills me with feeling I’ve never experienced before.
I lower my mouth down, bit by bit.
I release him and then swirl my tongue around his tip.
“Fuck!” His hand fists in the back of my hair, and I moan.
I lower my head again, taking as much of him as I can until I gag before pulling back.
Again and again I take him until he snaps and pushes me away.
“No more,” he pants.
He pushes me onto the bed and covers my body with his.
I watch as he fists his cock and guides it inside me.
My fingernails dig into his arms as he slides all the way in.
“Oh, God,” I moan at the fullness.
He moves slowly, rocking in and out of me with a gentleness that threatens to make me cry. He rolls so that I end up on top.
I grab the camera off the nightstand and take a picture of my hand on his chest.
Then another of his face that gets blurred by my hair falling forward.
“Give it to me.”
I hand him the camera and he takes a photo of his hand on my back.
Then another with him digging his fingers more forcefully into my shoulder.
There’s a reason I chose the title Moments for my project.
It’s moments like this, ones where we’re so close to losing our minds, that time slows down the most.
Where his finger on my lip and my nails in his back adds up to a much larger picture.
Each moment is precious in its own right, but you put them together and it’s magic.
***
Jace lifts his coffee cup to his mouth, his eyes glued to the book he’s reading. Every little bit he looks up at me and I know there’s something on his mind that he wants to talk about, but I wait for him to speak.
He looks adorable this morning. His normally harsh edges are softened by his sex-rumpled hair and the dorky glasses he wears in the mornings.
I eat my cereal quietly, waiting.
Finally, he closes the book with a sigh.
“Are you sure this Owen thing is over?” he asks.
I laugh. “I told you I loved you and then spent the night showing you how much—so yeah, I’m over him.” He doesn’t look appeased. I sigh. “Will you feel better if I tell you about him?”
“I don’t know?” he answers honestly. “Maybe.”
“We broke up two years ago—and I’ll be honest, it wasn’t our choice to break up. My parents are very strict and his parents wanted to avoid scandal.”
“Scandal?” he repeats, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“His dad was our Mayor but he was running for Governor.”
“Oh, I see. I know how that is.” Jace nods. I’m sure he does know. If his dad is a Senator he’s probably been in politics for a long time. “But how was you dating Owen such a big scandal?”
“My dad’s a minister and he didn’t feel like I should be involved with a politician’s son, and Owen’s dad felt like my background might harm in the election,” I explain. It’s not the whole truth, not by a long shot, but I can’t get into it.
Jace grins. “Bet you never thought you’d end up involved with another politician’s son.”
I sigh. “The irony isn’t lost on me. I fled my hometown, moved hundreds of miles away, and ended up back at square one. Life’s funny like that.” I push my cereal bowl away and cross my fingers together. “I promise you, Owen and are done. If he feels anything for me still that’s on him. I’ll admit, I’ll always feel a sense of fondness for him, but that’s it. It’s certainly nothing like what I feel for you.”
“Thank you,” he says, and I know he means it. “This whole relationship thing is new to me. I’m not used to feeling so jealous and protective all the time.”
I reach across the table and wrap my hand around his. “Trust me, you don’t need to worry about Owen, but if you need to ask me something about him you can. Any time. Okay?”
He nods. “Thanks. I will … if I need to.”
He goes back to reading, and I finish cleaning the dishes.
Even though things should feel better I still feel like Owen hangs over us like a dark cloud marring a clear blue sky.
Something tells me a storm is coming.
Jace
Thanksgiving passes, and Nova and I spend the day with our friends. It ends up being a surprisingly nice day. Probably one of, if not the best, Thanksgivings I’ve had since my mom died.
Now, with a little over week until Christmas, I’m overcome by how different my life is now than from a year ago.
“I’m playing tomorrow night at W.T.F.—I think I’m going to invite everyone,” I tell Nova.
She looks up from the Polaroids splayed out on the kitchen table. Her project is due tomorrow and she’s been slaving away over it for the better part of two weeks, piecing together the photos to make … something.
I don’t know what yet because I’m not allowed to look. Any time I try to sneak a peek she yells at me.
I tune my guitar and wait for her response.
“What?” she says after a moment, having registered that I’ve spoken. “What’d you say?”
I sigh. This project has killed some of her brain cells, I swear.
“Tomorrow’s Friday night, and I’m playing at the bar. I was thinking about inviting everyone. I know Xander’s back in town.”
“Oh.” She thinks for a moment. “Yeah, that’d be awesome.” She bites her lip.
“Spit it out, Clarke,” I urge, knowing she wants to say something.
“Can I invite Joel?” I groan. “Please,” she begs. “He’s been dating this one girl, so he’ll probably want to bring her. But I haven’t hung out with him in a while, and this is perfect because everyone will be there.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, sure, why not.”
“Thanks.” She smiles.
I sigh. I think I’d do anything to make that girl happy, to see her smile. I’ve become everything
I used to make fun of. I’m a lovesick sap, and you know what? I’m glad. Loving Nova has been the bravest, and greatest, thing I’ve ever done.
I work on my newest song while Nova finishes her project.
Sometime later, she says, “I’m done. You can look now.”
I set my guitar aside and hop off the couch like my ass is on fire, but I’ve been dying to see this thing forever.
I jolt when I see it.
“Is that … that’s me?”
She grins. “You can tell?”
I nod, my mouth slack, completely blown away by the complexity of what she’s done. I see now why it’s taken her weeks to complete. Pictures of me, and her, are laid out together in a way that forms my profile. It’s remarkable.
“You’re amazing,” I tell her, and bend to kiss her.
She wraps her arms around my neck. “You think it’s good?”
“I think it’s fucking incredible. I’m framing it and hanging it above my bed when you get it back.”
She laughs, positively giddy. “Really?”
I nod. “It’s incredible. So are you.”
She kisses me again and releases me. I look down at all the photos on the table.
Pictures of my hand on her hair, her hand on my chest, our legs tangled together. So many intimate photos placed together.
“What’s your professor going to think of this?” I ask, worried that she might get marked down for the sexiness of it.
“She’s cool with it. I told her my idea early on and she thought it was unique and couldn’t wait to see it.”
I smile and kiss her again. I can’t seem to stop kissing her. Or touching her. I’m like a moth drawn to a flame.
“Nobody else is going to see this, right?” I ask. “It’s not like you have to present it to the class.”
She laughs and shakes her head, her messy bun bobbing. “No. Just the professor.”
“Good,” I breathe. “One stranger seeing me in my underwear is enough.”
She frowns, thinking maybe I’m not okay with this. “None of the photos show your full face and if it does it’s shadowed.”
“I’m messing with you,” I tell her. I look down at the photos again. It’s truly amazing and I understand why she chose to title it Moments. It’s perfect. I kiss her again quickly and back away. “I’m going to call Cade and tell him about tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she asks, puzzled.
Dark Hearts Page 20
