[COMPLETED] Mila Wilson is quiet, anxious and a little bit of a mess. Panic attacks have ruled her life for as long as she can remember-but starting college is her chance to take control. Love? Not something she believes she's built for.
Then she me...
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His words make me pause. Done a lot of things wrong—what does he mean by that? The drug dealing? Or maybe choosing not to maintain a relationship? I decide not to ask, even though curiosity tugs at me. Still, a faint wave of disappointment rises in my chest. I understand where he's coming from, but that doesn't stop me from feeling rejected.
I reach for my sweater and pull it over my head quickly, smoothing my hair down with my hands as I settle back under the blanket. A small attempt to regain control.
"I'm sorry, Mila, okay?" Jace says, trying to catch my eye. "I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret," he adds, looking down at the floor.
His voice is careful, sincere. I can't help but soften a little. He really is trying.
I let the cold wall I'd just built between us fall, and turn toward him.
"Why would I regret it?" I ask gently, hoping he hears the honesty in my voice.
"You know I'm new to this. I'm just trying not to fuck anything up," he replies.
I want to ask more—what exactly is he new to? But I sense it's a conversation better saved for another time.
"No, I'm sorry," I say, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning against it. "I appreciate you putting in the effort."
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I feel the last bit of tension ease between us.
Who would've guessed Jace Evans had insecurities?
"Do you want to go grab some popcorn then?" he asks, clearly noticing how restless I still am.
"I'd like that," I tell him with a smile, kissing his cheek before standing up to pull on my jeans.
"Just leave my sweatpants on," Jace says as he stretches.
"They're way too big. I look ridiculous," I reply, laughing.
"That's right—you actually care what people think about you," he teases, and I stick my tongue out at him like a kid.
He grabs his keys and heads toward the door, but I stop him.
"There's a supermarket around the corner. Let's just walk."
He gives in without protest. We're about halfway there when his phone rings. Jace slows his pace and steps a few feet away before answering.
"Yeah?" he says flatly.
I can't hear the other voice, but I already know. His next words confirm it.
"Not tonight. I'll text you," he says, then ends the call.
Without looking at me, he slips his phone back into his pocket.
"Was that—" I begin, but he cuts me off.
"Yeah," he says simply.
Silence stretches between us.
It was a client. I'm relieved he told them no. That he chose to stay with me instead.
