Tattoos: COMPLETED ✔

Chapter 72

"Nothing is wrong with me."

I sigh, and my voice softens. "Then don't get mad at me for no reason." Tobias used to do that constantly and it made me feel like shit.

He nods, his demeanor completely changing in a matter of seconds. "You're right, I'm sorry. The truth is," he says, placing a hand on my thigh, but it's not a sexual touch, more like he just wants to be touching me, "work has been stressing me out, and I've been taking it out on you. I'm sorry."

I didn't realize how nervous I was until I feel my body relax; this is why he has been so weird lately: just work.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugs and turns to look at me. "I didn't want to bother you with it, there's nothing you can do." I know he doesn't mean that in a mean way, it's simply the truth, but it makes me feel guilty knowing I can't help him when it comes to work.

"I know, but I can be a good distraction," I say with a small smile. He smirks as I lace my fingers with the one resting on my thigh. "If you need me to be that kind of distraction, I can be."

He shakes his head. "I don't want to use you."

"You wouldn't be using me," I assure him.

"I don't know..." he says.

"All I'm saying is that if you need me, I'll be here for you. I want to be here for you." For some reason he looks almost pained by my words, but he nods anyway.

"Let's go home. I don't feel like going out tonight."

I agree; I'm just not in the mood anymore.
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The next morning, I wake up with Jace nestled between my thighs. I push his unruly hair off his forehead and wrap my legs loosely around his waist. The look he gives me is pure arrogance.

I roll my eyes and pull him down for a kiss. After a heated make out session, I pull away and tell him I better get up for class.

"Skip," he says he as runs a warm hand across across my stomach.

His touch is distracting, and I can't find it in me to tell him no. "Don't you have work?"

"I'm taking the day off. Stay," he says in a demanding way, but then softens it with a, "Please."

His confession about work last night, leaves me with little choice; he needs a day off. "Okay."

He smirks. "I'm glad you agreed because I wouldn't have let you leave."

"Oh, and how would you have managed that?" I ask.

The look in his eyes is mischievous. "I could have brought out the handcuffs. Those were fun."

I blush remembering them, but then I scowl. "They were fun until you left me handcuffed to your bed for two hours."

"Baby, that was the fun part," he says teasingly.

After I think back to it, I did enjoy it, but I'm never going to admit to that. Instead, I narrow my eyes and say, "I beg to differ."

"It doesn't matter," he says, sitting up, bringing me with him, "because you agreed, and now we're going shopping. I need to pick up a few things. Also, I like to watch you try on clothes for me," he adds before lifting us off the bed with my legs still wrapped around his waist.

I smile; I like trying on clothes for him too.

After a not so clean shower, we eat lunch at home before going shopping.

"I'm paying," Jace says sternly when I find a dress that I like.

"But-"

"No buts. I'm paying, end of discussion." He exits the dressing room before I can get in another word.

I inwardly sigh, but I know there's no use in arguing when it comes to us paying for stuff, and if I try it will only put him in a bad mood, and I don't want to fight with him.

After he pays, Jace says he needs to pick up a few new suits, and I eagerly follow him into a fancy dress store.

My mood dampens when a women greets us at the door, and she's too nice for my liking. I'm happy when he finally manages to shake her and we're able to explore the store ourselves.

A white dress shirt catches my attention. It's just like all the ones he has except thinner, leaving me to believe I might be able to see his tattoos through it.

I tug on his sleeve and tell him to get this one. He seems confused by excitement over a plain white dress shirt, but grabs one anyway.

He already knows his sizes, so in no time he has three new suits along with a handful of assorted ties.

After hitting a few more stores and not really finding much, we decide to get some coffee.

It seems that every other New Yorker had the same idea as us as and decided it would be a good day to get out of the cold and get warmed up by a hot drink because the line inside of the café is incredibly long.

We've only been in line for a few short minutes when Jace runs a frustrated hand through his hair and says, "I don't want to leave you here alone, but I need to pick something up before the store closes." He seems to be asking me rather than telling me.

"It's fine, I'll just wait in line. What do you have to get?" I ask.

His agitation seems to wear off at my question and the corners of his lips twitch upward. "It's a surprise."

I'm immediately skeptical, but I know he's not going to tell me even if I beg.

"I'll be back soon," he says, and I watch him make his way towards the exit.

Jace takes longer than I expected him to, and I sit down with my hot cocoa and his black coffee in a small booth in the back of the café.

I'm sipping my drink and thinking about what his "surprise" could be when an arm is thrown over my shoulder, and I'm pushed to the inside of the booth.

Jace's body is cold, but I still find myself moving closer to him. "Sorry I took so long," he says taking a sip of his coffee, "but I got you something."

He seems nervous, which in turn makes me nervous. He turns toward me and takes something out of his coat pocket.

My eyes widen when he holds up a small silver bracelet. I can tell it's expensive, and I want to tell him it's too much, but the words get stuck in my throat when I see the charms.

The first one is a book, which I'm guessing, resembles where we first met. Next, is a tall tower that looks a lot like where we live, our home, and then a heart. It can be viewed from two perspectives: one way it looks like it's breaking apart, and in the other, it's being stitched back together; nothing has described our relationship better. I'm just trying to figure out if he's going to be the one to put me back together or tear me apart even more. Maybe both?

But it's not the book, the tower, or even the heart that leaves me breathless.

It's the rose.
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