Chapter 3
In his head, this means he's going to be spending less time with Leo, but that's not how it pans out.
Or, he tries, he really does, and then one night later Leo texts him after work and asks if he can come over, and what's a boy to do?
Jace is thumbing back a heart and a thumbs up before he can register what he's doing, purely out of habit.
That's half their text history.
The evening finds Leo seated between his legs in Jace's room as Jace cranes his neck to read the magazine Leo's holding, pointing at various builds and asking all the questions he can.
It feels good to be an authority on something, but— "We should switch.
I can hardly see over your shoulder these days."
"Have I gotten that tall, really?"
He hasn't, but having all of Leo right there, close and warm, is a little much for Jace's new-found fragility.
"I can be smaller," he offers, as if that's a real thing, but then he slides down until his head is resting against Jace's chest and half-lying on the floor instead of any approximation of sitting.
It's cute.
Jace slides his hands into Leo's hair.
Soft, like silk, and always a little cold, like he really is made of snow.
"Hey, Leo..."
"Mm?" Leo shifts, looks up at Jace through his long lashes, and oh that blue.
It can't be real, but like everything about Leo, it somehow is.
The audacity of his existence is wonderful and strange.
"Doesn't he mind?"
"Who?"
"Your boyfriend.
Doesn't he mind you being over here all the time?" Never mind that Leo is almost in his lap.
Something glitters in Leo's eyes.
"I hope not."
"Wow.
Boyfriend of the year.
He must be a saint."
"Sure is."
It's like Jace isn't even a threat.
Like it would never have occurred to Leo he was on the table at all, and man, that bites.
Was he never even an option?
Did Leo ever look at him that way?
His mind stutters to a halt.
Did he—does he want Leo to look at him that way?
Leo's blue gaze is sharp.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jace tells him.
"Just thinking about your board.
I kinda want to try something new with the wheels." Jace stabs randomly at a blurb in the corner of the page he'd been looking at earlier.
Leo is still a slow reader, and, as ever, Leo trusts him.
He could be full of shit and Leo would still look at him like his every word were some separate dictate from on high.
King of the Board.
At least someone thinks he's cool.
"I trust you," Leo says.
"Whatever you think."
Minutes later in their shared quiet, Leo's breathing evens out, and the magazine tips against his chest.
Jace only notices because it jolts him out of his own reverie of staring at Leo's hands.
He should get up, wake Leo, or at least move him where he won't get sore.
The sun is setting outside.
He considers it for two seconds and then pulls out his phone to text Leo's mom.
He got the number after the first time this happened, because he might have dragged Leo into X but he's not about to let it affect his homelife.
Leo is with me.
We're studying late. He sends a thumbs up emoji with it, and then a heart, because the hearts are cute, and it seems like Ms. Ashford would appreciate that kind of thing.
The phone buzzes in his hand a moment later, just as his eyes are drifting shut.
Thank you for taking care of him!
It comes with a heart, and Jace tries to pretend it doesn't warm something in him.
As his eyes slip closed, he wonders if Leo's boyfriend sends messages like this to Leo's mom.
If they've met.
If she likes this man more than Jace, and trusts him with all of Leo the way Jace is supposed to.
It isn't fair, somehow.
It aches worse than any fall he's taken.
He wakes somewhere around midnight with his arm asleep from the weight of Leo's head, Leo's face pressed to his chest in their little heap of shared limbs.
The magazine is crushed between them; Jace pulls it free with his good arm and pushes Leo off him.
And then his other arm wakes up and decides that he needs to be punished for sleeping on it.
A plate of biscuits is on the floor next to them, with a note in his mom's familiar scrawl.
You two are so cute.
He glances over at Leo, at the way his mouth opens when he sleeps, at the fall of his hair over his forehead.
Yeah, super cute to wake up next to someone else's boyfriend.
Super cute to feel this way about it.
Jace pulls a blanket off his bed and drapes it off Leo before he climbs up and sprawls out on it.
His arm hurts.
Leo's quiet breaths are too loud.
He fists his hand in the part of his hoodie that's still warm from Leo, and winces at the spot of drool on it.
Winces, because it isn't that gross.
Winces, because his heart starts going double time, and that—that's gross.
Maybe this isn't going to be as easy as he thought.
He lets the rush of the morning push Leo out of the house before it can get weird.
Between his sisters' endless questions and his mom pushing enough food to feed an Olympic team off on Leo, they don't have time for more than a nod and a few words.
After he sends Leo safely on his way, Jace makes a decision.
It's enough.
The thing gnawing at his gut, pulling at the space behind his ribs whenever Leo gets too close—it can't get bigger than it is.
He spends the rest of the day in the garage, working on a new rig, sanding it down to butter smooth and then polishing it to a mirror finish, trying to bat back the annoying voice in his head that can't wait to show it to Leo.
Ugh.
Avoiding Leo isn't so easy, it turns out.
Not in his own head, and not in reality.
It should be, but ignoring his texts only makes the ache grow.
Even the lame excuse he musters in reply feels like too much.
Spend time with your boyfriend, he wants to send instead.
Not your skateboard instructor.