This chapter is longer than the others, and I was going to break it into two different chapters, but I figured I owed you all since it has been so long since I've posted. Thanks for sticking it out with me. You guys are the best! So without further ado, I FINALLY give you Chapter 10. Enjoy!
Since neither Maryse or Alec have shown to pick Max up yet, I decide to get up from my snuggling with him and make us some dinner. - Popcorn isn't cutting it anymore. - It's time for some real food. Now just to figure out what.
I look in the cabinets, nothing really appealing here and they look really bare. - I guess it's a good thing Clay will be by in a little while to get the shopping list for next week, and that Monday is just a few days away. - I shut the cabinet door and head over to the refrigerator, opening it once I get there.
"Hey, Max," I call to him while looking inside at its contents. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes," he answers distractedly. He really likes the Batman movie I have on for him. This makes the second time he's watched it today, and the fourth time this week alone.
"Well, what do you want?" I ask, shutting the door. I take a step back, turning my head to the left, and look over at him. I can always run to the store if I need to, I'll just have to text Maryse if I do. Or we can order take-out if that's what he wants.
"I don't know," he mutters from the love-seat, where he is now sprawled out across it.
"Neither do I." I walk over to the entrance and rest my hands on each side of the door frame. "How about some spaghetti?"
"With your garlic bread?" he asks eagerly, jumping up on to his knees in the love-seat as he turns to face me. His eyes sparkle with anticipation, and he's smiling his sweet smile that always melts my heart.
I smile back at him, lovingly. "If that's what you want."
"YAY!" he shouts and starts bouncing up and down with joy.
I shake my head, still smiling, and say, "Alright, quit bouncing before you get hurt and finish watching your movie, while I make us some grub."
Once the pasta is done, I drain it. Then I grab a big, glass bowl and begin mixing the pasta with the spaghetti sauce I reheated, while I wait on the garlic bread to finish cooking. It smells so good if I do say so myself, and it shouldn't be much longer before everything is done.
I set the bowl of spaghetti in the middle of the dining room table, and the oven timer goes off. I hurry back over to the stove, grabbing a pot holder off the bar on my way, and hastily take it out before it has a chance to burn.
"Max!" I call. "Dinner's done."
"Woo-hoo!" Max cries and comes running into the kitchen, heading straight to the kitchen sink.
He washes his hands as I place the slices of garlic bread on a plate, and I begin to wonder if I made enough. I always make extra slices when Max is eating, because I know how much he likes it. I swear, he'd make a meal out of it and nothing else. But eight slices should be enough. Right?
When he's done drying his hands, he skips over to the table, taking a seat in his usual spot, - the chair closest to the kitchen - with me following behind him. I take my seat at the head of the table and place the garlic bread to my right, out of Max's reach. There are two reasons for this: One, it is still hot. And two, I don't want him to fill up on it and nothing else.
I grab his plate and start scooping spaghetti on to it, "Tell me when."
"When," he says after two big scoops. I place two slices of bread on his plate and set it down in front of him.
I do the same thing to my plate, only adding a third scoop of pasta, as he refills our cups. Max and I then begin to eat our meal in a peaceful quiet. But we don't get far into it when there is a knock at the door. I wonder who it is. Maryse, Alec, or Clay?
"I'll be right back," I tell Max as I stand. "No more garlic bread until you finish your spaghetti."
"Aw man," he whines at me. I raise my right eyebrow at him, giving him my serious 'no means no' look, and he pouts. "Fine."
I chuckle quietly and walk off to see who is at the door. Upon opening it, I find Clay standing on the other side; his left forearm leaned against the door frame. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. It's the same routine every week with him.
Though, I do have to admit that he really is quite handsome. He stands about six foot tall, with light brown hair and blue eyes. He's built, and he has a great smile. Izzy says he's cream your panties worthy.
Today he is wearing a blue, long-sleeved, button-up, denim shirt that he has left completely unbuttoned exposing a light blue tank top beneath, and a pair of relax-fitting, blue jeans. He has his hair, that's about half an inch long, spiked up as usual. And he's staring at me with a seductive smile on his face.
"Hi, Clary," he says, his voice low.
"Hi, Clay," I reply, then step back to let him in. "The list is on the bar."
He steps over the threshold and looks at me puzzled. "Were you expecting somebody else?"
"Yes and no," I admit, closing the door behind him. I walk past him, heading back to the kitchen and dining room, "Maryse or Alec should be here any time now to pick up Max."
"Where is the little guy?"
"Eating dinner."
"It's only five fifteen though," he says from behind me as I enter the kitchen.
"Yeah, I know. But, we were both hungry." I inform him. Why is this any of his concern?
"I could stand to eat myself," he says low enough that Max can't hear him, and I know he's not talking about food from the way he says it.
This time I do roll my eyes. Somethings never change. Twice a week, every week, he tries some new way in an attempt to seduce me. Next will be-
"Why don't you let me take you out to dinner tomorrow?" he asks, right on schedule.
Before I have the chance to answer him, there's another knock on the door. Oh, thank the angel, Alec or Maryse is here to save me! I'm running out of ways to turn Clay down, without having him fired. Seeing as the direct approach with him hasn't even worked.
"The list is right there," I point at it and quickly head back to the front door.
When I open the door this time, I freeze. I swallow, hard, trying to wet my suddenly, extremely dry mouth and find my voice. But it's not working.
Why isn't it working?! What is fucking wrong with me?!
Jace stands on the other side of the door, in his black leather jacket, a white tank top, and blue jeans; that again, hug him in all the right places. His lips are slightly parted, and his eyes are slowly scanning my body from head to toe and back up, hungrily. When his eyes meet mine, the gold looks like fire burning and the pupils are dilated. He looks like he wants to devour me. And if I'm being completely candid with myself, in this moment, I wish he would.
My blood temperature has risen. My heart is beating hard against my chest. I feel lightheaded, and I'm filled with an overwhelming feeling of desire. I could always-
"CLARY!" Max shouts, sounding as if something is seriously wrong, and I pull my eyes away from Jace's as I rush toward the kitchen. Not bothering to invite Jace in, or slam the door in his face; nothing. The only thing I'm worried about now is Max.
When I enter the kitchen, I see Clay standing over at the table acting like he is about to grab a piece of garlic bread. Oh, thank the angel! I let out the breath I was holding, seeing as there's nothing seriously wrong, and stop dead in my tracks between the kitchen and dining room, leaning over to grab my knees and slow my racing heart.
Jace crashes into me as I do and we both gasp. He grabs my hips, his long fingers sliding against bare skin, to keep me from falling over on my face, - at least I think that's why - and my small hands automatically grab on to his larger ones. I can feel his impressive, hard length pressed against my ass, and desire lances through me again. Not to mention that where his skin is in direct contact with mine, I feel a strange, hot, tingling feeling. It feels right, and like I'm being pulled to him.
After a few very short moments, I catch a glimpse of Max out the corner of my eye and thankfully come to my senses. While standing back upright, I pull myself away from him and release his hands. The second we are no longer in contact with each other, I strangely feel like I've just ripped off a large chunk of flesh.
Something is seriously wrong with me!
I've never felt like this before, so I shouldn't feel like this now. I should be able to control myself. I mentally shake my head. I will control myself! Because if I don't, I'll just end up hurt. And for some reason I know, that it'll be worse than any other time that I've been hurt by someone. Therefore... I can't feel like this!
"Thanks," I mutter, which to my own ears, sounds hoarse; but I don't attempt to look at him. I'm sure I'm blushing a lovely shade of scarlet, and it's not just from the embarrassment of the scene we just displayed.
"You're welcome." His voice sounds strained, and I wonder... Is he having the same problem as me? Or is he just like every other hormonal teenage boy?
"JACE!" Max yells excitedly, and jumps out of his seat, rushing past me. I follow him with my gaze as he jumps into Jace's arms.
"Hey, buddy," Jace says, sounding more like himself, and hugging Max tightly. He really is good with him, and if last night wasn't enough proof already, it's evident to me now that Max adores him; he doesn't act like this toward a lot of people.
"Well, I guess I better get going," Clay says, coming from behind me. I had forgotten that he was here, and suddenly I feel awkward.
Jace looks at him and eyes him coldly. His posture changing to one of confidence and hostility, even though he is still holding Max, his hands balling up into fists against Max's back. He's acting territorial. But over who? Max? Me? Both?
Clay isn't any better. He's straightened up, his body tensing and his shoulders squared. It's almost as though he is trying to show seniority. Maybe even daring Jace a little.
The tension I can feel between the two is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. It's as if I just walked into the middle of a boxing match or something. Like they both have something to prove to the other, and my feeling of awkwardness goes out the window to be replaced by anger as I think... Not this shit again!
I need to diffuse this situation quickly. This shit isn't happening in front of Max, especially when he is in Jace's arms; let alone in my house and over me. Think, Clary, think. Do something. Anything!
"Clay, this is Jace. Izzy and them's cousin." I start to politely introduce them, attempting to keep my cool and act naturally. "Jace, this is Clay. The shopper I told you about."
Clay looks back at me with triumph in his eyes at the mention of having told Jace about him, and I immediately regret it. It's not like that, I mentally tell him, and I hope that my face conveys the same message. This boy is never going to give up now. Ugh! Why did I feel the need to explain who he was like that? I was just trying to break their concentration on one another and lighten the mood.
Jace stretches out his right hand. "Nice to meet you," he says, but he sounds only a little sincere about it.
Clay eyes Jace's hand for a few seconds before extending his own. "Likewise," Clay replies simply, but I detect a hint of coldness in his tone, as the two shake hands. He turns back to me and smiles. "See you Monday."
"Yeah," I say, forcing a small smile on to my face. "Monday."
"See you next week, Max," he says as he ruffles Max's hair, who gives him a dirty look as he turns and grabs the list off of the bar. Clay starts walking toward the kitchen entrance and says, "If you need anything, Clary, call me."
I pooch out my lips and give him a small wave as a sendoff, saying nothing. He says that every Friday and Monday as if I'd need anything from him. I've never called him before, yet, he still hasn't figured that part out.
When he's no longer in sight, I turn back to Jace and Max. The two stand less than two feet away from me, Max still in Jace's arms; hanging on to him like a little monkey. I open my mouth to speak, but Max beats me to it.
"Clary made dinner," he tells Jace, looking him in the eyes. "Want some?"
Jace looks at me with uncertainty in his eyes, and before either of us can say anything, Max starts talking again.
"She's a really good cook, and you can have Izzy's spot," he states matter-of-factly, and Jace looks back to him.
"You can't just invite people to eat at somebody else's house, Max." Jace scolds him mildly. "That's rude."
"Yes, I can." Max retorts, assuredly. "You're not people, and Clary doesn't mind," he looks to me, "do you?"
I stand here wanting to say, 'Yes. Yes, I mind.' but he bats his long lashes over his innocent little eyes and smiles that sweet little smile of his, and I'm done for.
"No," I say, smiling back at him, and I'm rewarded with an ear to ear grin. "There's plenty, but it's getting cold."
"See," Max declares and jumps down from Jace's arms. He stands completely straight, his shoulders pulled back and squared, his neck stretched high, and balls his little fists up in front of his hips; strutting back to the table in victory. And with a chuckle, I playfully swat his behind as he passes me. This child is something else.
"You're sure you don't mind?" Jace asks, sounding hesitant.
"Not at all," I respond, only half-truthfully. I do mind, but I don't because it's made Max happy. I head to the dishwasher, and as I pass by him, I say, "I'll just get you a setting. Go have a seat."
"Thanks," he says, and I think he sounds a little surprised.
"Right there," Max is telling him as I turn back around. He's pointing at Izzy's spot that is directly to my right, and as Jace walks around the table and sits down, I rejoin them.
"Here you go," I hand Jace a fork and a plate, as I place a glass on the table in front of him. He takes them gratefully, so it seems and smiles up at me. I return his smile and say, "Dig in."
I pull my chair out, and he stands until I'm seated, then follows suit and does as he's been told; piling his plate high with spaghetti. I chuckle softly as I pass him the garlic bread and he takes two slices. There's definitely not going to be any food wasted tonight, I think as I set the plate back down. Then he pours himself a glass of Kool-Aid.
I return to my food and hear a moan of appreciation coming from Jace. I peek over at him from beneath my lashes, finding that his eyes are closed and he's chewing the large mouthful he has of something. I shake my head and look back to my plate. Upon taking another bite of my own, I hear his fork rake across his plate, and not but maybe two seconds later a moan that turns in to a groan escapes from his throat. I swear, it sounds like he is having sex next to me, not eating.
"This is really good," he says astonished. "The best spaghetti and garlic bread I've ever tasted."
I'm sure he's just exaggerating, but I still tell him, "Thank you."
"You're very welcome," he sounds muffled, so I look over at him just in time to see him cramming a considerable forkful of food into his mouth. I quietly laugh to myself with a slight shake of my head, rolling my eyes. He's going to end up choking.
"I told you, didn't I, Jace," Max states proudly, instead of asking.
"You sure did, kiddo." he manages to say around his food.
"She makes her own sauce and garlic bread. None of that store-bought sh-" I quickly glance up at him, giving him a stern look, knowing what he's about to say, and effectively cut him off. "Crap," he amends. "She says only the best for those she loves."
I feel a blush creeping up my face, and I'm sure it's just from all of Max's flattery. I hear Jace choke a little and look over at him, and I'll be damned if he isn't blushing too. What the hell?
He recovers quickly, though, and looks a little bewildered but genuinely intrigued by this information. "When do you find the time to make it?"
I shrug my left shoulder. "It really isn't that hard. I make a large batch of sauce once a month or so, divide it up and freeze it." I look down at my plate. "It's something my mom taught me." I sigh at the memory.
"Clary?" my mom calls.
"Coming," I reply, getting up from the couch. I walk into the kitchen and find her standing at the large, black, marble island; ingredients scattered all over it. "What's up, mom?"
"Nothing," she replies simply, with a loving smile on her beautiful face that causes crinkles at the corners of her eyes. It's strange how I can remember all the little details now when then they just seemed to be insignificant. "I just need your help with something that I want to show you."
I look at her puzzled but walk over to her when she motions for me to come over with her right hand.
"I want to teach you an old family recipe," she explains once I'm standing next to her, on her left.
"Okay," I say a little confused. I know she is just wanting to spend some quality time together, but cooking? Usually, our thing is art; whether it's in the studio here at the house, going to an art exhibition, or a museum to look at the paintings.
"I know you're only fourteen, but one day, you're going to have a family of your own." she starts going into more detail and answering my unspoken question. "And trust me when I say, you're only going to want the best for them. Besides, I'd like to have somebody that can carry on the family recipes, since we both know that Jonny isn't in the least bit interested in cooking a real meal."
"Jon in the kitchen cooking is scary, mom," I laugh.
"Yes, it is," she admits laughing. She puts her left hand gently on my right shoulder, "So what do you say we get to work then, hmm?"
I snap out of the recollection when I feel a hand gently squeeze my right hand. I look up, and Jace has a small, sad smile on his face. I even see a mix of sincerity and pain in his eyes.
"And the garlic bread is a quick fix," I tell him, giving him a small, half smile. I pull my hand back from his and start spinning my fork in the pasta.
"Well, it's really delicious," he says with certainty, but his voice is laced with sadness. "Spaghetti is one of my favorite foods."
"Well then, eat up, before the food gets any colder," I say in an attempt to take my mind off the memory of my mom that's still lingering. "And, thank you," I add as an afterthought.
"You're welcome," he says and brings another forkful to his mouth. A moment later he asks, "Where's Izzy? Is she not hungry?"
"She's at a sleepover," Max informs him, as I chew my mouthful of food. "She had a cheer emergency."
"A cheer emergency?" Jace asks amused, and suddenly the uncomfortable sadness I was feeling, and slowly starting to sink into, starts to dissipate.
"Uh huh. She said it was because people are jealous, petty, and stupid."
I snicker, shaking my head, as I cast my eyes over at Max. He's nodding his head, nonstop, with a very serious expression on his face. For somebody so young, he sure can be too serious at times.
"And what exactly does that mean?" Jace chuckles.
"What does it mean, Clary?" Max asks, looking to me and waiting for the answer.
"It's just people being stupid and making them redo a routine that there's nothing wrong with, because they are upset things didn't go their way."
He looks at Jace now and points at me with his little left index finger. "What she said."
Jace and I both laugh softly. Maryse has her hands full with him alone, I think to myself. Because this child is a mess. A good mess, but still a mess. I'm about to put an end to the conversation and tell him to eat when something else pops into my head.
"So, Jace," I turn to look at him, "what on Earth brought you by?"
"I'm supposed to pick Max up today," he answers with a secretive smile on his face. "I was supposed to feed him, too. But you already took care of that part for me."
"Why? Is there something wrong?" I ask, becoming panicked and worried that something may have happened to Maryse or Alec. I mean, obviously, there wouldn't be something wrong with Izzy or Max. Because, he's been here with me, and Jace asked where she was.
"Calm down," he says soothingly. "Nothing's wrong. Alec had a study group after classes today, and Maryse has some type of meeting, then she's going out to dinner with Robert."
"Well, that explains why nobody showed to get him earlier," I mumble. I'm glad that they are alright but upset that nobody told me of the change in plans.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Jace says, sounding truly apologetic. "Practice ran late. But I did text Izzy to let her know."
"Well, she didn't tell me anything." I wonder if she didn't tell me on purpose, or if she is just to busy to mess with her phone. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt, at least for now.
After Max, Jace, and I finished our meal, those two splitting the last of the garlic bread and killing off the spaghetti, Max started telling Jace all about the movie he was watching earlier. 'Batman: Return of the Caped Crusaders.' I listened and watched for a little while as Max talked animatedly, even joining in on occasion when he left a part out of the storyline losing Jace, before getting up and starting to clear the table. The two continued their conversation, while I was shocked and surprised by Jace. Even after I told him that he didn't have to, he still insisted on helping me clean up.
So as I carried the plates and utensils to the kitchen sink, he followed behind me carrying the big spaghetti bowl and cups. Once the dirty dishes were in the sink, he went as far as to tell me to take a load off and join Max, - who had followed us and was sitting at the bar - that he'd take care of it since I cooked. But, of course, I couldn't do that. He then started handing me the clean dishes out of the dishwasher while I put them up before he loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher after I rinsed them off. And when I washed down the stove-top, he snuck over to the table and wiped it down.
True, it all felt natural and even nice to have the unneeded help. - It was really sweet of him. - However, it woke memories that I had pushed to the back of my mind. Memories from over a year ago, when Sebastian started to clean up after I'd cook a meal for us, and sometimes 'our friends.' - Pssh, his friends more like it. Well, other than Izzy and Alec. - Which is why I couldn't just sit back and do nothing. But, I also couldn't tell Jace; that would be letting him in, and bringing up a sore subject. One I didn't want to get in to, especially not with Max sitting in hearing distance. - I should've seen the signs then, but I was blinded by everything else going on and the nice things he did; which I now realize were signs. - Besides, I was enjoying seeing this side of Jace. Even if it did make me wonder, once again, if it was the real him or just for show.
"Well, Max," Jace says as the three of us walk into the living room. "You ready to go get that ice cream I promised you?"
"Yeah!" Max replies quickly and starts bouncing up and down as he does, which causes Jace and I to chuckle. I truly wonder if dramatics is in the Lightwood blood at times, and this is definitely one of those moments.
I walk to the coat closet and grab Max's stuff. "Here, put your coat on," I tell him, holding it open for him. He slides his arms in, and I help pull it over his shoulders, then hand him his backpack. "And you can't forget this."
"Clary, do you want to come get ice cream with us?" he asks sweetly, looking up into my eyes and grabbing my right hand; ready to pull me out the door.
"No, I wouldn't want to impose," I say, hoping that it's enough to make him happy and not to push the matter any further. "You go eat your ice cream and have fun. I'll see you later. Okay?"
"But, I want you to come," he whines and stomps his foot. - Again with the dramatics. - He turns away from me, still holding on to my hand, and says, "Jace, tell Clary to come with us, that she won't be imposing," fisting his right hand on his hip. "Please."
I look up at Jace, hoping that he'll agree with me. By the angel, please, let him be stronger than I am when it comes to this little boy, and tell him no. Jace looks up at me from Max, and if I'm not mistaken, there is a slight sign of mischief in his eyes.
Oh no! What is he about to do?
"Clary, you won't be imposing." He smiles a very charming smile. "Please, join us for ice cream. It's the least I can do after you fed me such a wonderful meal."
Damn it!
"Pleeaassee, Clary," Max begs, looking back at me. He sticks out his bottom lip and bats his eyelashes.
Damn it. Damn it! DAMN IT!
"Okay," I sigh. I'm such a damn sucker. "Let me get dressed, and then we'll go get ice cream."
Jace
Clary looked really fucking hot in her short, skin-tight, black, jersey shorts and her skin-tight, blue, spaghetti strap. Mmm hmm. The way those shorts sat low on her hips and her shirt rode up when she moved just right, - Her hand holding the door open, her bending over, stretching to put dishes up, helping Max put his coat on. - allowing me to see even more of her body. It took everything I had not to grab her and kiss her, to put my hands on her, to feel her body. By the angel, to feel her!
I thought my zipper was going to bust when I grabbed a hold to her hips to keep her from falling earlier and got to feel her flesh against my hands. And it sure didn't help the matter none that, that strange tingle returned with a vengeance as I held her against me; her sexy ass pressed against my already hard dick, from just the sight of her at her door, making me even harder. I swear, if she hadn't of moved away from me when she did, I would have done so much more. Unless she stopped me, of course.
I would've moved my hands up over her ribs, pushing her shirt up as I went, fondled her breast, and then removed her shirt before undoing her bra; all the while kissing her soft flesh. Then I would have skimmed my hands back down her body and removed her shorts and her little white thong. - I know this for certain because, the view I got was of its thin straps peeking out above her waistband; right at her tailbone. And I caught sight of it quite a few more times after that. - Oh, just the thought of the things I wanted and would have done to her is making me hard again.
I shift uncomfortably in the driver seat of my Equinox, and glance over at the passenger seat where Clary sits; her elbow propped up beside the window, her head rested against her hand, as she stares out the windshield. Even in faded blue jeans, a somewhat loose fitting, green t-shirt, and the black leather jacket that she wore to school today, she still looks beautiful. And I want nothing more than to reach over and put my hand on her thigh. I chuckle, with just a hint of humor, to myself at the thought that... She'd probably deck me if I did.
I sigh inwardly as I look back to the road. This connection I feel to her is driving me insane! I want to get to know her better, so I know that I'm going to have to take things slow. I also know that in order for that to happen, I need to prove to her that I'm not going to hurt her so that she'll allow me to be in her life. I mean, for crying out loud, I didn't get myself into all that trouble so that I could move here just to sleep with her. But this pull I feel toward her, this intense attraction, has me wanting to rush things along.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and I suddenly get the strange sense that I'm being followed. Again. I felt it after basketball practice, on the way to Clary and Izzy's to pick up Max. Then I got it for the second time when we first headed out to get ice cream. It's disturbing that I don't know if it's been happening this entire drive and I just didn't realize it because my mind has been preoccupied, or if it has just started back up, or if I'm just being paranoid after last night. But, either way, ever since the first time it happened, it has had me wondering if last night was Clary being watched, or actually me. I'm just not sure anymore.
Being careful not to bring attention to myself, I have a quick glimpse in the rear-view mirror. There's only one headlight behind us now, and it's about two car lengths back. I guess I'm just being paranoid, because earlier when I looked there were two headlights. I try to shake the feeling of being followed. However, it doesn't work. So, I decide to distract myself by going through the rest of the early evening events with Clary, and analyzing it, to see if I can find any clues on how to win her over; because I will win her over! I just have to!
There was that guy, Clay, that was there when I showed up. - The fucking douche bag! - I'm not sure what the deal is with them. When she first answered the door, she looked relieved before her mouth dropped open in shock momentarily and she swallowed hard; a flush spreading over her face, down across her neck and chest. But then, when we were in the kitchen, after our little collision and he made his presence known, there was an awkwardness radiating off of her. However, his attitude was something completely different.
It was one that said she was his, and Max too. That I needed to stand down. That he had been around longer than me, and I had no place there. His body even went into fight mode.
Of course, I was sure that I could take him, and I still am. After all, I've beaten the shit out of dudes bigger and badder than him before. And what he apparently failed to see was, and is, that, it doesn't matter how long I have been around, they were and are mine; even if Clary and I aren't together.
Then I almost laughed when Clary introduced me to him as 'Izzy and them's cousin,' because a look of disappointment crossed his face. I guess somebody didn't like the idea that I could be around a lot. And I nearly laughed again when Max shot daggers at him for ruffling his hair, like I do, right before he finally took my unspoken hint and left; which I was thrilled about, even if he was trying to boast about seeing Clary Monday and telling her to call him if she needed anything. I wanted to gloat and tell him that I'd see her Monday before he did, and all week long too. I also wanted to tell him that she wouldn't need to call him because she has me. But I decided against it because I didn't want to come off as childish.
Shortly after that, when Max invited me to eat with them, - Which I hadn't counted on, but am still thanking the angel for. - I wanted to say yes immediately, but I wasn't sure how she'd handle that. When I looked at her, she looked like she didn't know what to do, or what to say for that matter. And just as Max continued on with his invite the thought that he could do the same thing with that asshole Clay, or any other scumbag, crossed my mind; and I knew, I needed to let him know that, that wasn't something that was alright to do. - Unless it was me of course, but I couldn't very well say that now could I? - But Max insisted that he could, and when he asked Clary, I watched her; completely expecting her to back up what I had said. However, that wasn't the case.
One look from Max and her expression went from one resembling stone determination to a soft smile as she agreed easily, leaving me momentarily stunned. Because of that expression on her face only seconds before saying something completely different, I needed to check that she really didn't mind. I did so hesitantly, worried that she'd say 'Yes,' and send me on my way. But again, she surprised me when she didn't, and I was thrilled when she went to get me a fork, a plate, and a glass; which I tried to hide both as I thanked her.
Then, as I walked over to the table, I remembered what Alec had told me last night. "Max is her weakness. She can't say no to him." Boy, he wasn't kidding. She may start with a no or at least a look that says it, but Max has her saying yes in no time. - Just like now, with going to get ice cream with us. - I snicker to myself as I think of the power he holds over her. Then I become upset with myself for using him, in an around about way, to get my way. But then again, I honestly had nothing to do with tonight, it was all Max. I just followed his lead. So I shake off the feeling and go back to exploring the evening.
Before I got to the table, I hadn't really felt hungry for food, until I saw the spread she had laid out on the table; spaghetti with a sausage and hamburger meat sauce, and garlic bread. Initially, I thought the sauce was just something out of a jar or can, with added bell peppers, onions, garlic, and mushrooms, but it still looked and smelled good. So, as I sat down, I was grateful for the invite to dinner, and to her for preparing it. Then she joined us and sweetly handed me the plate and fork, and to show my appreciation, I smiled at her. I felt like I was king of the world when she smiled back at me and told me to "dig in."
She didn't have to tell me twice, and when she passed me the garlic bread, she laughed softly. I still wish I knew what for though. And, oh, by the angel, that meal was mouthwateringly delicious. She's one hell of a cook, and I didn't want to stop eating! So, I was somewhat glad when the food was gone, because I would have made myself sick from eating so much otherwise.
Then Max made his comment about the food and those she loves, and I inhaled sharply, causing myself to choke. For a short moment, I thought he was dropping a hint. But that was, and is, ridiculous considering she doesn't actually know me, and she's so different from all the other girls I've ever known. She didn't take one look at me and fall head over heels. So, I tried to recover as quickly as possible, when I was hit by an unfamiliar feeling and question that caused me to become angry. - Why can't she be like the other girls, at least in that area? It sure would make things easier. - Which in turn, only made me become even angrier, only at myself instead of the situation I found myself in. I like her the way she is, and I'm even glad that she is going to make me work at us getting to know each other better. It means that she isn't some brainless twit that will fall for just anybody because of the way they look. Which means she has substance and morals, and that intrigues me even more so.
I also know she has a wall up, which means that she's similar to me. She doesn't trust easily. Which I see nothing wrong with that, honestly. With what little I do know, she has every reason not to. I just wish that she could see that she can trust me. But, that's something I'll earn.
"There!" Max shouts excitedly from the back seat, his tiny hand appearing by my head as he points up the block. "There it is!"
"Where? Which one?"
"It's that first one on the next block." Clary offers, pointing to the place in question and I lean up to get a better look.
It's an older looking, cone colored, brick building. The door is angled, facing the corner of the road, effectively making two angles instead of one. There are two large windows, one on either side of the door, and it's hard not to notice the pink and blue neon signs in each. They both read 'Happy Dreams Ice Cream,' which is made to look like it has been written with the straws that are coming out of the blue cups on the bottom right corners. The straws proceeding down to the bottom left corners into pink ice cream cones, where it looks as if the cups have been sucking the ice cream out of them.
"Ice cream, ice cream. We're getting ice cream." Max singsongs the entire time as I try to find a place to park.
I circle the block and find nothing, so we end up parking across the street from the shop, and as we cross the street, Max's song changes a bit. "You're getting ice cream, I'm getting ice cream, and you're getting ice cream. HEY! We're getting ice cream."
Clary laughs and joins him for the last line just before we get to the shop door, which has two signs on it. One with hours of operation and the other 'Welcome. Come on in.' I try to beat her to the doorknob but don't succeed, which causes her to back into me as she pulls it open and I wrap my left hand around her left bicep.
"Sorry." She sounds a little panicked as she practically jumps away from me.
"It's fine," I put my right hand on the door right above hers and smile down at her. "No harm done."
Lie. My ego, my body, my brain, my pride, all scream liar at me. My body is lacking and aching, requiring only her to fill this void I have for her. My ego and pride bruised that she doesn't want me in any way, shape, or form. Confusion because I've never wanted anyone as I do her. All of which makes me feel inadequate, and not for the first time in my life.
"Come on, Jace," Max calls, and I realize they are already at the counter.
I close my eyes and shake my head. - I can't believe that I've been standing here frozen to the door as they continued inside. - Then make my way inside, walking straight over to them.
Upon joining them, I see a large selection of ice cream lined up in four rows of four. Their flavors are written on inch wide labels that are adhered to the large glass lid that covers them. Not a single flavor repeated as far as I can tell.
"Welcome to Happy Dreams Ice Cream," comes a chipper feminine voice before turning low and seductive, "where each bite is like a dream come true."
I look up from the ice cream to find the clerk checking me out. Well, at least from about my waist up considering the counter blocks my lower half. While her eyes scan down my chest, slowly, I watch. Enjoying the slight boost from feeling like I haven't completely lost my touch. I've still got it! How can one girl make me feel like I had?
When her eyes come back up to meet mine finally, she's blushing profusely, biting her bottom lip, and her hazel eyes are dilated. She tucks a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear, "What can I give... help you with?"
I hear an annoyed sigh coming from my left and look over to find Clary rolling her eyes. I know she's smart and heard the same innuendo that I did but what is her problem? Nothing is going on with this other girl and me. Besides, she acts like she doesn't even want me, or anything to do with me.
"What?" the word sounds so innocent coming out of my mouth. She turns to look back at me.
"Nothing," the word is sharp, crisp, cutting. The look on her face is hard to make out with all the emotions running across it, but the one that reads that she doesn't want to be here is clear as day to me.
"Oh," comes the voice of the Auburn beauty, as if she realized she's done something wrong. "I'm sorry, Clary. I- I didn't know." Clary's eyebrows draw together and up as she turns to look at her, as do I. "You know if I did, I wouldn't have-"
"We're not," Clary hurries to interject. "It's nothing like that."
"No," Clary giggles. "It's mine."
"Not uh," Max giggles back. "It's mine."
Clary playfully pokes him in the ribs with her left index finger while they both chase a cherry around two mounds of melting ice cream with their spoons. I've been watching them do this for what has to have been at least ten minutes now, and they never chase more than one at a time. I have to admit though, it is quite amusing, and it's getting harder and harder to control my own laugh; which is currently a low, constant chuckle.
Clink!
Clary's spoon has cut off Max's again. "Haha! Mine!"
Max leans against her, reaching under his right arm he grabs for her right hand with his left. "Neverrrr."
"Mmm-mm." Dropping her spoon against the bowl and his spoon, Max loses as she plucks the cherry from the sloppy mess with her fingers.
"Hey! That's cheating!" He exclaims, dropping his spoon, though he is still laughing.
Now, the battle has begun for Clary to get the cherry to her mouth. As she turns her hand and tries to move it to her parted lips, he tries holding her wrist from moving with both of his hands. She's nearly there, at least halfway, when she pulls a trick I hadn't seen yet. Usually, she drops her head to her hand, meeting it halfway, but not this time. This time she opens her mouth wider, let's the cherry slip from her fingers, as she shoots it into her mouth.
My jaw drops in complete awe as she effectively makes it and I choke on a few short, shocked laughs. How in the hell did she do that? Did she practice this technique? I plan to ask her as much, but just as I regain my composer the three of us are interrupted.
"Hey, Clary."
Hearing her name she turns toward the voice, sucking the plumped, red cherry she was just teasing Max with back into her mouth. I shift slightly in my seat, my pants growing tight as the rather large, red fruit disappears between her full pink lips. The round shape appears in her cheek and pain registers from my groin as I strain against my pants even more than I already was. I definitely need a release.
Desperate to take my mind off of the pain and the one that is the cause of it, I cock my head to the right where I find a set of large tits propped up on the back of the booth seat. Well, that didn't help matters none! Leaning back and tipping my head some I discover their owner, the pretty ice cream server.
"Do you work tonight?"
"Nuh uh," Clary replies around the lump in her mouth. "I don't work Friday's."
The girl that I still don't knows name frowns and sucks air into her mouth making a sound of disappointment like she just lost her chance at something.
"I work tomorrow night though." Clary offers, sounding like herself again.
"No, that's okay." She smiles slowly, but it doesn't seem believable to me. Like maybe it is okay, but not at the same time. "I'll just try Maia again."
"You sure?" Clary sounds skeptical asking.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure." The girl nods her head slowly a couple of times as she speaks. "Thanks though."
"No problemo."
"Well," she makes a sucking sound, "maybe I'll see you tomorrow night then."
"Alright."
She turns to walk away, then hesitates momentarily before having fully turned around. "Do you guys need, or want, anything else?"
I shake my head no, even though I'm thinking... Yeah. Clary.
Max tells her, "Uh huh. More cherries," which causes all of us to chuckle.
"I can do that," the girl laughs.
"No, we're good." Clary snickers lightly. "We don't need more cherries. Thanks though, Karla."
Aw ha! At last, a name to go with the face. I can't believe this place doesn't make their employees wear name tags. I mean, what if you wanted to call and complain about someone that provided you with crappy service?. Would you just describe what they looked like? Remember precisely what time you were in here, and what day? It's a little ridiculous to have to go through all that trouble. Then again, that could be the point. Make it more work than it needs to be so that you don't report it.
"Well, if you change your mind, just let me know," Karla responds warmly, then walks off.
Turning back around in my seat, I watch Clary and Max go back to their cherry war, then finish their big bowl of ice cream off. Focusing on them the entire time, I can't help noticing, even more so, the way she is with him. She's so open, carefree, energetic, and there's also a vulnerability about her. But, something tells me, that at least part of it, may be forced.
I hope you enjoyed!
As always, don't forget to review, follow, and favorite. Reviews often help with ideas, so let me know what you have thought about this chapter and what you think may be still to come. Mwah!
Also. I couldn't decide between titles I thought of for this chapter, so this one may only be temporary.