Busted.
THERE ARE A FEW things that come with getting kicked out of a university. For one, it's living in that dorm room with Carter. The whole thing is smaller than my bedroom at home. It's definitely not enough space for two guys to live together in—especially if that other guy is Carter. He had a girl over the other night, and I couldn't sleep because even across the suite-style dorm, all I could hear was his headboard banging against the wall.
Another thing is having to do all my own grocery shopping. When we lived in the penthouse, there were people we could call for that. We simply told them what we were craving, and they took care of it. Unfortunately, the only way we were able to maintain access to our trust funds was to promise that we would live like normal college kids. That includes going to the store ourselves.
Carter and I have made it a routine to alternate who has to go. And unfortunately for me, it's my week this time. So, I grab the list and head to the store in the middle of North Haven.
Walking down the chip aisle, I grab two bags of each kind I like and throw it in a cart. It probably looks like I'm throwing a party, which wouldn't be a bad idea, but that's not it at all. I'm just snatching everything I see that makes my mouth water, because I’m hungry.
As I go to turn the corner, my cart comes inches from crashing into someone else's. For a second, I'm annoyed. Can't you watch where you're fucking going? It's a grocery store, not the Kentucky Derby. We'll all get our stuff and get out.
"Jace?" a familiar voice asks.
I look up, and my eyes widen as I come face to face with Mrs. McAllister—Paige's mom. I'm not sure which is more surprising, the fact that she's here in sweatpants and not a two-thousand-dollar dress, or that she's grocery shopping in general. Regardless, my mom always taught me never to be rude.
"Hi, Mrs. McAllister," I greet her. "How are you?"
She smiles warmly at me, the same way she always did. "I'm great, honey. How are you doing?"
"I can't complain too much. Just normal college kid stuff."
It's so far from the truth, it's laughable, but I'm not about to tell her the truth. Not even an ounce of it. I keep that shit tucked away, hidden under lock and key.
"You always were such a good kid," she tells me. "I'm so glad you and Paige reconnected. She really needs to get out of the house more."
"Oh, we didn—"
"Do me a favor? Try to get her to live her life a little more. I know she's trying to be helpful, but her father's illness can't be easy on her, and I don't want to see her throw everything away. Peyton wouldn't either."
My brows furrow. "Mr. McAllister is sick?"
"O-oh," she stutters. "I'm so sorry. I thought you knew. I figured she told you. I mean, she was with you all night last night."
I shake my head. "Only because she fell asleep on my couch. What's wrong with him?"
If it were anyone else, I wouldn't care half as much as I do now. But I've known Mr. McAllister since I was a kid, and he's always been nothing but nice to me. Hell, the man even taught me how to play football, when my dad was too busy flying to all parts of the world instead of being a father.
Mrs. McAllister frowns as she drops her head. " Stage four lung cancer. We've reached the point of palliative care."
Tears spring to my eyes as I think about someone as caring and devoted as he is, being cursed with something as horrible as cancer. When I was a child, I watched the disease take my grandfather. I can still remember it to this day, the way he ended up half the size he normally was, and didn't even have the strength to get out of bed in the morning. It was horrible. And to think that is happening to Mr. McAllister—it's not fair.
"I'm so sorry to hear that," I tell her honestly. "He's a good man. He doesn't deserve that."
"No, he doesn't. But cancer doesn't discriminate." Her attention gets caught on a small pack of butterscotch pudding, and for the first time since we've been standing here, a real smile spreads across her face. She reaches over and takes it into her hands. "You know, I always used to lecture him about the sugar content in this stuff, and how bad it was for him. But he didn't care. He loved it anyway."
Just as a tear slips down her cheek, she puts the pudding into her cart.
"Always eat the pudding, Jace. Life's too short not to."
With that, she walks away with just a small pat on my shoulder. I watch her as she goes down the aisle, not grabbing anything else, and disappears. It isn't until she's gone that it makes sense.
This is why Paige came back to North Haven.
I PACE BACK AND forth in the driveway, looking like a downright psychopath, but I'm conflicted on whether or not this was a good idea. Is it weird? Will he even want to see me? I mean, I never told my parents about my relationship with Paige, if that's even what you want to call it, but that doesn't mean she didn't. What if he knows and wants to rip my head off for fooling around with his daughter?
Fuck.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
"Jace?"
My head whips toward the front door, where Mrs. McAllister is standing.
"What are you doing out here? Is everything okay?"
I nod and rub the back of my neck to relieve some tension. "I was, uh, thinking about coming to see Mr. McAllister." It sounds stupid the second it comes out of my mouth. "Now that I think about it though, he needs his rest. It's fine. Just forget you saw me."
The corners of her mouth raise, and she holds the door open wider. "He's actually wide awake. Come in. I'm sure he'd love to see you again."
"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother."
Shit, I don't even know why I'm here, to be honest. All I do know is that I have enough regrets. I don't want not seeing Paige's dad before he dies to be another.
"Don't be silly." She waves me in. "You couldn't be a bother if you tried."
With one last glance for Paige's car, I reassure myself that the coast is clear and head inside.
The mansion is just as huge as I remember it being, and that's saying a lot coming from the kid who has spent his whole life around big houses. Though none of them were ever this big. The two staircases on either side of the foyer never made sense to me. I mean, why do you need two staircases that end up at the same place?
I follow Mrs. McAllister up the stairs and into the master bedroom, immediately trying to rid myself of the memory of the last time I was in here, with her daughter.
Not the fucking time, Jace.
As soon as my eyes land on Mr. McAllister, the air is sucked straight from my lungs. He doesn't look anything like the man I spent so much time with over the years. The Peyton I knew was a broad-shouldered, muscular man. He always told me that being powerful also meant looking powerful. Apparently, when he was an up-and-coming business man, he was leaving a meeting late one night and got mugged. From that point on, he made it a point to be strong enough to make someone think twice about it.
The guy laying in front of me, though—he looks just as sick as he must feel. His usual olive skin has turned ghostly pale, and his eyes look too big for his face. However, the minute he sees me, he lights up.
"If it isn't little Jacey London," he greets me and struggles to sit up in bed. "How've you been, boy?"
My brows raise, and I smirk. "Better than you by the looks of it."
A bark of laughter bubbles out of him before I can rethink my words. "Man, it's good to see you. Come have a seat." While I go to sit down, he turns his attention to his wife. "Sadie, go get us a couple beers, would you?"
She chuckles. "You can't have beer on your meds, love, but I'll get you some iced tea."
He mocks offense and looks over at me. "She never lets me have any of the good stuff."
As the two of us talk, bullshitting about irrelevant things like sports and his college fraternity days, I realize how much I've missed being around him. He was like a second father to me when I was younger, but once I started getting older, I was always too busy to spend time with him. Now, I'm really wishing I had kep
t coming around.
AFTER A LITTLE WHILE, we move down to the living room to watch some replays of my old football games. It's a bittersweet feeling, seeing how young and carefree I was. I'd give everything in the world to go back to that. When my biggest worry was if I scored a touchdown, or if my parents were going to be home for Christmas.
The door opens behind us and a familiar voice echoes through the house. "I'm home."
My heart feels like it stops as dread takes over, but Peyton reacts the same way he always has with her. His smile widens and he looks toward the sound.
"There's my girl."
"You're out of bed," she says happily, but when I turn around, the grin drops right off her face.
Her gaze jolts over to her dad to avoid locking eyes with me. "What are you two up to?"
"Jace stopped by to see how I'm doing." He gestures to the TV. "We were just watching a few of his old games."
Just then, the video switches to one of Paige, Carter, and me. We're running around the backyard, all looking happier than ever as we jump into the pool. Seeing it, and knowing Paige is watching it with me, makes me feel things I'm not willing to let in.
Not now.
Not ever.
I glance down at my phone for a second and sigh. "Wow. I didn't realize it was getting so late."
Peyton gives me a look that tells me he can see right through me, but thankfully doesn't question anything. "It was really nice of you to stop by, Jace. Don't be a stranger."
"I won't." And that's a promise I plan on keeping.
As I walk past Paige and toward the door, I give her a subtle nod, for her father's sake. The man has enough to worry about. He doesn't need to waste his time wondering why his daughter and I aren't exactly on speaking terms.
The cold air hits me the second I step outside, and it makes me realize I've been shaking since the second I got out of that room—and I don't think it's because of the temperature. It's like karma is coming back to bite me in the ass, by making me watch someone else I care about die.
One Year Ago
I stand completely frozen in place, not even responding as Carter screams my name from the door. He runs over and stands in front of me, gripping both my arms.
"What the fuck happened?"
My mouth opens, but no words come out.
I can't speak.
I can't scream.
I can't fucking move.
Sirens can be heard in the distance. Carter looks toward where they're coming from, and his eyes widen.
"We need to get the hell out of here."
He's right. He usually is. But it's as if I have absolutely no control of my own body.
"Jace!"
Instead of waiting for me to follow, he holds my forearm in a vice grip and pulls me with him.
I watch from an inconspicuous location as Jace gets in his car. When I came home today, the absolute last thing I expected was him sprawled out on the couch, talking football with my dad. I don't even know how he found out about my dad's condition, but he also made it obvious that he wasn’t interested in being in my presence.
Carter was right—there is definitely something to be worried about. The whole time I spent in his dorm last night, neither one of us said a word. At one point, he started fidgeting and looking really on edge. However, all that stopped when he came back from grabbing his laptop from his room. The logical part of me wants to consider the possibility that maybe he's on drugs. But my heart doesn’t want to believe that. He wouldn't. He's smarter than that.
Jace pulls out and drives down the road, and I can't seem to look away until he disappears. When I can no longer see his taillights, I sigh and close the blinds. Unfortunately, my dad caught the look on my face before I could mask it.
"Uh-oh, what's going on there?" he asks.
I shake my head and try to play it off. "It's nothing. Really."
"Paige Annabelle. You haven't spent the last twenty years lying to me. Don't start now."
Crossing my arms over my chest, I chuckle. "That you know of. What if I secretly lie to you all the time?"
He smiles but still gives me the look. "Then you'd probably be a lot better at it. A monkey can lie better than you."
"Hey!"
Shrugging, he can't help but laugh. "Just being honest. You should try it."
"Nothing is going on," I say with a little more force to drive it home.
It's not like I'm lying. There is nothing going on between Jace and me. I've made every effort to try and help him, and he's made every effort to avoid me. Once I can get Carter off my ass about it, I'll go back to leaving him and everything we had in the past—no matter how hard that may be.
Being around Jace for the first time in a year and a half is a shock to my system. It's like I went eighteen months without food and now there is a massive feast laid out in front of me, only the feast is blocked by a giant glass wall.
I guess that's what I get for leaving him the way I did.
Lucky me.
RAISING MY HAND, I hesitantly knock on the door. Despite the fact that half of me is screaming how much of a bad idea this is, I know I need to do it. What's the worst that could happen—he shuts me out again? That's nothing new.
Jace opens the door, and for a second he looks surprised to see me, until he masks it with the same emotionless expression I'm starting to get used to.
"Hi," I breathe. "I just wanted to thank you."
"Thank me?" It's the first thing he's said to me that hasn't been paired with an icy tone.
I nod. "For visiting my dad. It really cheered him up, and I appreciate it."
He walks away from the door but leaves it open as he heads to the fridge. "I didn't do it for you."
"I know. But I'm really glad you did. He needs all the happy he can get right now."
To my surprise, he comes back with a beer for him and a bottle of water for me. Okay, so he's not exactly kicking me out. That's good to know. But every part of me is wary about this new thawing in our relationship. I even subtly check to make sure the bottle is still sealed before I open it.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he questions, lifting himself onto the counter. "That he's dying. Why didn't you mention it?"
I can't help but laugh a little. "You mean with all the chances you gave me to say anything to you?"
Thinking about it for a second, he tilts his head side to side. "Okay, fair. Does Carter know?"
"No."
"Does anyone?"
"Just Becca." As it comes out of my mouth, I realize how it sounds. "It's not that I'm ashamed of him, or trying to keep his illness a secret. I just hate when people treat me like I'm fragile. I don't want anyone's sympathy. And he really doesn’t either."
"I can understand that."
"Oh yeah?" I say sarcastically. "And why would people feel sympathy for the infamous Jace London?"
In an instant, he hardens again, and I can practically see the moment he shuts me back out. "You'd be surprised."
With that, he gets down and goes into his bedroom—shutting the door behind him in a silent message that I'm no longer welcome here. It's still progress. I mean, the fact that he let me in in the first place is a big change from when he basically told me he wished I was dead the first night I saw him again. But a frozen lake doesn’t turn to water overnight.
LISTENING TO MY PROFESSOR talk about how incredible Shakespeare was, I'm starting to think he's secretly in love with him. He's getting all hyped up about the subject, and writing on the giant chalkboard like a maniac while we all look around at each other with wide eyes.
Charlotte leans over toward me. "How much do you want to bet he nuts in his pants before the class is over?"
Looking back at the professor, I laugh and shake my head. "I'm not taking that bet. I'm pretty sure he's at least half hard right now."
She squints. "If he is, I'm disappointed. I thought he'd be bigger than that."
"Charlotte!" I whisper-shout. "What the hell are you doing thinking
about his dick?"
"Oh, please. Like you haven't?"
"Nope. Can honestly say that thought has never crossed my mind."
Her pen goes between her teeth, and she bites down. "You're missing out."
Gross. "That's okay. Old men aren't exactly my type."
"Oh? And what is your type?" she asks. "Tall, rich, and handsome, with a hint of broody?" My confusion must be all over my face because she nods toward the door. "He's outside."
As I follow where she's looking, I find Jace leaning up against the wall outside our classroom. He looks like an Instagram model, with a button-down shirt that’s unbuttoned way too much for the middle of winter and a pair of expensive sunglasses. He's messing around with his phone, making his hair fall into his face, and I’d be lying if I said my mouth didn’t water a little.
"Why am I not surprised you're banging Jace London?" Charlotte hisses.
I shake my head so fast I almost get whiplash. "N-no. We're not...we're not even friends. We just have a history."
"Then why is he waiting for you?"
Just then, a couple girls whisper to each other and then both look out the door at him. The thought of him possibly being here for them forms a knot in my stomach. I mean, he was always a player in high school. Between him and Carter, I don't think there was a single girl in our class that went untouched—except maybe Becca. Though I do know she had the biggest thing for Carter. Never acted on it though.
"He's not," I tell her. "He's probably here for them."
The alarm the professor had set goes off, announcing the end of class, and Charlotte smirks. "Guess we're about to find out."
We all gather our things and start to file out of the classroom. The whole way out, I can't decide if I'm hoping for Jace to still be there or not. I mean, even if he’s waiting on me, I have no reason to believe it’s good news.
Maybe he really is waiting for those other girls. Or maybe he has a class in here next and was just early. I've never seen him wait there before, but that doesn't mean anything. It's not a very big campus, meaning there aren't an overwhelming number of classrooms.
Change My Game: An Emotional Second Chance Romance (North Haven University Book 2) Page 6