He jumps up and scurries over to the kitchen rifling through the drawers.
He slams a drawer and curses. “Got my finger,” he mutters and resumes looking. “A-ha found it.” He pulls out a pad of paper. “Now pen,” he whispers to himself, looking around the kitchen with his hands on his hips. “There.” He grabs one from the counter and picks up the pad of paper, carrying both over to me. “You write them down, my handwriting sucks.”
He’s not lying. His chicken scratch is barely decipherable.
We start tossing around ideas. I write down the good ones but as we go along most get crossed off. Naming a business is hard. It needs to represent us and be memorable.
“This is exhausting,” I declare, tossing my head back and groaning.
“What about JiN?” Joel tosses out.
“It’s catchy,” I agree. “But it doesn’t tell people what we do.”
“We could add photography to it then?”
I nod, thinking it over. “It could work. Let’s think on it for a few days and see if we still like it.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I stand and shrug into my coat. “I’ll see you later.”
I hug Joel goodbye and head home. I could’ve hung out longer, but I wanted to get home and lie down, maybe take a nap. This baby, as much as I love it, is sucking the life out of me.
I pick up some lunch before I head home—since I don’t feel like fixing anything. I doubt I’ll be able to keep it down, but Jace can eat the rest so it won’t go to waste.
I get back to the apartment and bump the door with my hip to close it. It’s quiet with Jace not home. It’s always weird. I prefer being here with him. I’m sure some people think I’m crazy—that I should want to have time to myself—but we’re so alike his presence calms me instead of bothering me.
I take off my coat and kick off my boots. I hang my coat up and set the boots up so Jace doesn’t trip on them when he gets home. I sit down on one of the barstools and pull out my sandwich.
I take a tentative bite and wait for the nausea to hit. When it doesn’t, I take another little bite. Eating slowly until I manage to get the entire sandwich down. Now I have to hope it doesn’t take revenge on me later.
I clean up my trash and decide to start tackling the spare room. Since Jace and I got together we’ve been using the room I used to sleep in as a makeshift storeroom. It’s full of my photography equipment, boxes from Jace’s dad’s house, some of my clothes I never moved over, and much more. But now we need the space for the nursery. I know eventually we’ll have to move into a house or at least something bigger, but while the baby is small this will be perfect—less space for the tyke to get in trouble.
I start with my clothes. I toss what I don’t want to keep on the floor and then carry the rest over to our bedroom and put them away.
I grab a trash bag on my way back and use it to put my discarded clothes in to take to donate.
Next I tackle my photography equipment. There isn’t much and I set it near the door so I can take it to Joel’s or he can come and pick it up. It’s mostly backdrops that might be useful and a couple of costumes.
I leave the boxes to Jace, not wanting to toss something he might want to keep. I stack those outside the bedroom, though, so he’ll be sure to see them.
The floor and bed are finally revealed. Jace will have to take apart the bed and do something with the mattress, because that’s past my expertise and I definitely can’t lift a mattress.
The rest of the room is filled with odds and ends we should’ve thrown away a long time ago. I pile them with my clothes to donate.
The room is dusty and kind of gross since it’s been unused and piled with junk. I dust over the windowsill and dresser before vacuuming. Once I do it looks one hundred percent better.
So much for my nap. I think to myself, but this needed to be done, and Lord knows Jace won’t do it.
I’m hot and sweaty from working so I take a shower and change into pajamas—an old pair of sweatpants and a tank top. I gather my long wet hair up into a bun so it doesn’t drip all over me and I lie down on the couch. I put the TV on a random channel and lie there thinking about how amazing my life is now.
I think, maybe, I had to go through all those horrible things in my life in order to better appreciate the good.
Everything happens for a reason, and I have to believe there’s a bigger purpose for my past.
Not everyone is bad, there are people you can love and trust in the world, and I have some of the best people in my life now.
I know they’ll be there for me no matter what.
Through thick and thin.
Jace
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” I ask Nova for the five-hundredth fucking time as we stand, ready to board the plane.
She chews her lip nervously. She decided she wanted to tell her parents in person she’s pregnant. I think she’s crazy for wanting to do that, but I know she probably needs this. She needs to see them and have some sort of closure. She left and went to college and never came back. This feels final.
“I don’t want to,” she finally says, stepping forward in line. “But I need to.”
“I understand.” And I do. Besides, I’ll always do what she wants to do. I would never push her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. She starts worrying her lip between her teeth again. “Nova,” I say deeply and she looks at me with wide sorrowful brown eyes. “You can do this,” I tell her. “You’re stronger and better than those people. Whatever they do or say doesn’t change that.”
She nods and swallows thickly. “You’re right.”
I grin. “I always am.” I can’t help saying the words, because I mean, I am.
We hand over our tickets and board the plane.
I’m nervous to meet her parents but I don’t let it on. I’m nervous because I hate them. I hate them for what they’ve done to Nova and I’m afraid of what I might do or say, and I’d never want to do anything that might upset Nova.
I tuck my carry-on bag into the compartment and then take Nova’s and do the same. We have a return ticket for tomorrow so it’s not like we needed to pack much.
Nova plops into the seat by the window and lets out a heavy breath.
I sit beside her and she drags her sad eyes to mine.
Her pain is my pain, and seeing that look in her eyes is like a kick in the chest.
A part of me wants to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, carrying her out of here and telling her to fucking call them and be done with it. But I know she needs this closure and I’m not selfish enough to deny her that.
“Just remember,” I tell her, my voice low, “no matter what happens, they don’t define you and you don’t need their approval to be happy.”
She takes in my words and nods. “I know—I hate that there’s still some small part of me that wants them to love me.”
I frown. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. It’s all I can say. We both know people like them will never change. They’re not capable of love. Only destruction.
My dad changed once he was dying. Fuck, as sad as it is that short amount of time I had with him there at the end was some of my best moments with him in my entire life. It was like he was finally free of the shackles he’d been binding himself with. He opened up more to me in that time than I ever thought possible. He confessed how cruel his own father had been to him, and for him it was normal, it was all he knew, and therefore he treated me the same way. I sympathized with him but I also felt anger, because even though I grew up with him treating me like shit I knew I’d still never do that to my own kid just because it’s what I knew. I don’t have it in my heart to be that way. Sure, I’m crass, and rude, and probably too bossy at times but I care and there lies the difference.
Regardless, I’m glad I had time with my dad and got to see him in a different light. It actually made me a bit sad when he finally passed, but if I hadn’t had those moments with him and seen there was a spe
ck of good in him, sadly I don’t think I would’ve cared. In fact, I probably would’ve said good riddance and danced on his grave.
“My mom already doesn’t approve of you,” Nova sighs.
“Oh, really?” I raise a brow. “And how does she know me?”
She rolls her eyes. “Owen’s mom called her and told her all about you. I guess she made it seem like you were some tattooed prick or something.”
I snort. “I barely spoke at that stupid dinner—if you can even call it that.”
“Exactly,” Nova sighs again and I get the feeling she’s going to be doing it non-stop until we get home. “But my mom and Claudia apparently still gossip like a bunch of chickens.”
“Claudia looks like a fucking chicken.” The words come out under my breath before I can catch them.
Nova busts out laughing and slaps a hand over her mouth. Fuck, I’ll say it again if it gets that reaction out of her.
“She kind of does, doesn’t she?”
“Her nose is beak shaped,” I confirm. “Plus, she has those beady eyes that spell death if you stare into them for too long.” Nova suppresses more laughter. “I guess this is the time I should say, Confession: I really fucking hate chickens.”
Her laughter bubbles out in uncontrollable bursts. “Why?”
I take a breath. “Once when I was little, we went to visit some distant relatives of my mom’s. I don’t even know how we were related to them. Anyway, they lived on the farm. I was little, probably five or six, and I really wanted to see the animals but the adults were all talking. So, thinking I could handle anything, I went off in search of the animals. I petted a couple of sheep and kept going. That’s when I spotted the chicken coop.”
“Oh, no.” She presses a hand to her mouth, stifling more laughter.
“Oh, yes.” I nod. “I was small so I could fit in the fucking chicken coop—let’s just say they ran me out of there so fast I nearly lost my pants. One bit my ankle and let me tell you that hurt like crazy. After that, I haven’t been able to stand the sight of chickens.”
Nova laughs and leans her head on my shoulder. “God, I love you.”
I don’t say the words back, she already knows I love her more than my next breath.
She’s everything.
We arrive in Texas and it’s fucking hot—well, hot compared to the cold we’ve been having. It has to be in the fifties, where back home it was in the twenties.
We get a rental car and Nova drives around, showing me different places that are a part of her childhood.
Her high school, the park she and her friends used to hang out in, a gym where she did gymnastics for a year before giving up, and even the hospital where she had Greyson.
Each piece gives me further insight into who Nova is. It’s like I had the whole puzzle done and now I’m finally getting the border—the foundation.
Once the mini-tour is done we head to our hotel and check in.
Nova wants to wait until tomorrow to see her parents, since our flight out is tomorrow evening. I understand, I wouldn’t want to confront my bastard parents today and have to wait a whole fucking day to get home. This way, if they’re assholes it’s not like we’re going to be here long.
And let’s face it, they’re going to be fucking assholes because they don’t know any other way to be.
I drop our bags on the floor and Nova collapses on the bed.
The room is nice—I made sure to book something that wasn’t a shit-hole—almost cozy. There’s a refrigerator, a couch, a king bed, and the bathroom and closet off to the side.
“Why did you let me do this?” Nova asks, staring up at the ceiling.
I chuckle and crawl up the bed overtop of her. I stop when I reach her face, my arms braced on either side of her head.
“Because, you need closure. Otherwise, you’d be asking yourself what if. It’s better to get it over with and not have questions later.”
“Are you sure you weren’t a psychology major?”
“I write songs, Little Star. It’s basically the same thing.”
She smiles up at me—and that smile … Fuck, it does things to me I can’t put into words or even lyrics.
I roll over and lie beside her, both of us staring at the ceiling.
“Jace?” she asks softly.
“Yes?” I press when she doesn’t elaborate.
“When you were little, what did you imagine your life would be like?”
I press my lips together. “Honestly? I wanted to be a fucking rock star. What about you?”
“I don’t know. When I was little I was too scared to dream.”
She might as well have kicked me in the chest with as bad as her words hurt me. All I can picture is the love of my life as a small child, too frightened to hope, to dream, of a life worth living. It breaks my fucking heart.
“What about now?” she asks. “Do you still want to be a rock star?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “That dream died a long time ago. I don’t want the limelight.” I swallow thickly. “If you could have dreamed of something, what would it have been?”
She rolls over and gives me a small smile. “This—finding someone I love more than anything else, and having my love returned tenfold.”
I can’t help it, I have to kiss her. I have to feel her body mold into mine like my body was made to shelter hers.
She curls into me, her fingers grasping at the collar of my shirt.
I wish I could erase the bad in her life like it never even happened, but it did, so now I have to spend the rest of my life showing her how fucking amazing she truly is.
Her lips open beneath mine and her hands glide down my stomach, frantically pushing up my shirt.
I tear it off and toss it over my shoulder to some unknown part of the room.
My fingers work the button on her jeans and push them past her hips. Her body’s filled out since she got pregnant, and I fucking love it. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it before and she’s beautiful no matter what, but I get a sense of satisfaction knowing I did that to her.
Her teeth nip lightly at me.
Frantic.
Desperate.
We both need to feel the other skin to skin.
We tear at the rest of our clothes, our desperation leaking into the air. Her nails rake down my back as I push into her and I smile in satisfaction, loving the small bite of pain.
Her dark hair spills out around her. Sometimes I miss her wild colors, but I also knew right from the start she was hiding behind them. This, this, is the real Nova.
She’s soft, and sweet, but she’s also sharp-tongued and quick-witted.
Her fingers touch the scruff on my cheeks and she pulls my head down, kissing me like I’m her oxygen and without me she’s going to suffocate.
She lets me go and looks up at me with glowing brown eyes.
Those eyes say it all.
Love.
Trust.
Forever.
I never thought I’d want it all with someone, a life, babies, a house, growing old together, but with her it’s easy to picture those things. They don’t seem like far off ramblings. They’re solid and true and I know it’s going to fucking happen. Hell, we’ve already got a jumpstart on the baby part.
She shatters beneath me, her eyes falling closed, and fuck I can’t help it but I’m right behind her.
Our bodies are slick with sweat and our breathing is heavy, but none of it seems to matter.
I pull out of her and gather her against my chest. She drapes one leg between mine, her hand on my chest.
I run my fingers through her hair and she looks up at me sleepily.
“I think … I think maybe I dreamed of you before I even knew how to dream.”
What the fuck does one wear to meet the asshole parents of their girlfriend?
Maybe I should go in a fucking Speedo and goggles—really leave a lasting impression.
Unfortunately, I didn’t pack a Speedo.
I don’t
even own one, and since it’s December, the chances of me finding one are slim to none.
Besides, Nova would probably lock me in a closet before she ever let me show up to meet her parents like that.
Instead, I settle on a pair of jeans a long-sleeve black t-shirt.
It’s hardly fancy, but at least I’m covered.
Nova wears a pair of jeans and a loose red sweater that hides her bump.
A growl emanates from deep in my chest, pissed she feels the need to hide our baby like it’s a dirty fucking secret.
I wish she wasn’t afraid of her parents, but I know they did a number on her and it is what it is. It’s a good thing she’s not messed up like she could’ve been. The same is true of me.
We’re both lucky to have come out of bad situations relatively unscathed.
Nova looks at me, her face showing her apprehension.
“No matter what happens, they don’t define you.”
She nods at my words. “I know.” She gives me a small smile, retreating further into herself. I hate that these people can do this to her and she hasn’t even seen them yet. I miss her vibrancy, and her energy, and her, and it’s only been one day.
I shrug into my coat and she does the same.
Nova starts for the door and she barely has it open when I slam my hand down on it and push the door closed.
She jumps and looks at me, clearly startled.
“You don’t have to do this,” I tell her. “They don’t know we’re here. We can hang out here until we have to catch our flight and no one will be the wiser.”
She presses her lips together and seems to be mulling over my words. After a moment she shakes her head and squares her shoulders. “No, I have to do this.”
I sigh. I knew she was going to say that, but I had to ask anyway.
I nod once and swing the door open, letting her step outside first.
I drive, since she’s too nervous to drive, and she gives me the directions.
Eventually, we pull up outside a large stone two-story home with a long ass driveway.
It’s different than I expected. Way different.
Anytime I pictured the home Nova grew up in it was always smaller, like a little cottage or something, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised if her parents are friends with Owen’s parents.
Broken Hearts (Light in the Dark Book 5) Page 10