Tone Deaf(51)

If I’ve learned anything about Jace in the short span I’ve known him, it’s that he’s honest. Probably too honest for his own good. And he gave me no reason not to trust him when we slept together on the couch, so I take his hand as he offers it to me again. He keeps his grasp gentle as he leads me into the back, and I’m struck again by the unique smell of his bedroom—faint cologne and wood varnish. I decide I kind of like it.

Jace leads me over to the bed. It’s been made, but judging by the way the blankets are all rumpled in the corners, I have a feeling it usually isn’t. Which is actually a little surprising, considering how pristine the rest of the RV is. Actually, now that I take the time to really look around, I realize there are a lot of things different about this room. It’s pretty messy, with dirty clothes kicked into the corner, and his nightstand littered with notebooks and novels.

Jace has a stack of mystery books there, and I almost laugh as I notice a sci-fi novel resting next to them. Killer must be rubbing off on Jace more than he thinks. Under the sci-fi book is a romance novel, which makes my eyebrows raise. Jace rolls his eyes again and tugs me onto the bed, where we both sit on the edge.

“Romance books?” I sign, unable to keep an amused smile from my lips.

He blushes. Actually blushes. I laugh a little as I watch his cheeks redden. “They’re good for songwriting,” he explains. “Popular songs are all about romance, and I kind of fail in that arena. So I try to learn from books.”

I gently kiss his cheek. “You don’t always fail.”

He shrugs, like he isn’t sure how to respond to that, and I lean into his warm shoulder and close my eyes. His arms wrap around my waist, and for a moment, I’m able to pretend that everything is okay. That I’m not on the run, that I don’t have to be scared of my dad, that my hearing is still intact and my mom is still alive.

He lies down on the bed and tugs me down too, so I’m lying beside him. I rest my head on his chest, and he gently strokes my hair, lulling me close to sleep. Just as I’m about to drift off, I feel warm breath and vibrations close to my ear. I open my eyes and look up, finding Jace smiling down at me sheepishly.

“Did you say something?” I ask.

He nibbles at his lip, clearly debating whether or not to repeat what he’d said. “I said you’re beautiful.”

I blush, and he laughs gently. I think back to the first time I watched him laugh, and how contemptuous and angry it had felt. Now it just seems . . . happy. I smile as he brushes his thumbs over my reddened cheeks.

“You’re so freaking adorable when you blush.” Before I can come up with any kind of response, he gently kisses the tip of my nose and presses his forehead against mine. “But I really should leave soon. Tired or not, my concert is going to start in just a couple hours.”

I bite my lip to keep from frowning. Jace tips my chin up and brushes his lips against mine, not quite a kiss, but teasingly close. And suddenly I feel sad.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I mutter, even though it’s not true. Knowing I’m going to be alone all evening makes me feel just a tiny bit lonely, which reminds me that as soon as I get to New York, I’ll be completely on my own. And, hell, I’ve survived for years with hardly anyone to lean on. I know I can do it. But now that I have a glimpse into a life that isn’t so lonely, I don’t want to do it.

He gently traces my frown with his fingertip. “That doesn’t look like nothing.”

I sigh and shake my head. “It’s just . . . I’m going to miss you when we get to New York. That’s all.”

“Who says I’m going to leave you?” he asks.

My eyes widen. Could he actually plan on having me around for longer than just the tour? I mean, it will never work out, but still . . . that’s sweet. Probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.

“Thank you,” I murmur, unsure what else to say.

“You don’t have to thank me. I want to be with you.”

My cheeks flush a little, but I can’t stop myself from smiling. I reach up and run a hand through his hair, messing up his fauxhawk. He leans in a little closer, and I take the opportunity to kiss him.

His lips are firm and warm against mine, and he holds my face gently in his hands. This close to him, I can smell his sharp cologne and the woodsy scent that clings to his skin. He runs a hand through my hair, pressing me closer to him and intensifying the kiss.

After a long minute, Jace pulls away and gently strokes my cheek. “If I don’t leave now, someone is going to come looking for me, and they might find you.”

All the warmth rushes from my body, leaving cold nervousness. In Jace’s arms, it’s easy to believe I’m safe. But his words bring reality crashing back down—I’m still thousands of miles from New York and a long way off from being truly safe at all.

Jace frowns at my nervous expression and wraps his arms back around me. His hand rubs soft circles against the small of my back, and I close my eyes, leaning into him.

I stay there for a moment, but then pull away to sign, “What do I do if someone does find me?”

He lets out a long, slow breath as he considers this. Then he presses a gentle kiss against my forehead and signs, “We’ve worked well together getting you away from your dad. So if someone tries to force you to go back, we’ll deal with it the same way. Together.”