Winner Takes All

Chapter Thirty Three ✘ Therapy Session

"I gave her my time for two or three nights, then I put it on pause until the moment was right."
Don't — Ed Sheeran

My injured ankle is throbbing dully from all the running, but I don't focus on that as I hurry after Jace up the spiral staircase that leads up to the abandoned lifeguard tower.

The worn wood creaks under our feet as we stand on the balcony, and Jace shoves the door. It bursts open, revealing a dusty, empty space. I step inside and Jace slams the door shut behind us.

The roof is broken, a huge hole gaping down at us, revealing the night sky. The moonlight trickles through, giving me enough light to make out what else is in the room. There's a rickety desk and a chair, a rundown pale yellow sofa, and a cupboard with one door broken. Other than that, it's empty except for dust balls and papers scattered around.

"Fuck." I groan, shifting the weight off of my bad ankle as I lean my surfboard against the wall.

Jace looks over, stepping closer. "What's wrong?"

"Ankle." I groan, sitting down slowly on the couch, only for it to creak alarmingly under my weight. I shot back to my feet, realizing it probably can't hold me anymore.

Wordlessly, Jace turns away towards the cupboard, pulling open the one door and sifting through it. He pulls out a large blanket, wrapped safely in plastic. Probably supplies lifeguards kept.

He unrolls the blanket and discards the plastic, before laying it down the floor, right under the patch of broken roof. The blanket is big enough to look like a small carpet.

I sit ruefully down on the soft blanket, easing the pressure on my foot. My damp hair sticks to my shoulders, but I'm too worn down to care. Jace paces the room, walking back and forth, and the sound of his flip flops against the squeaky wood is highly irritating.

"Please. Stop pacing." I grit out, leaning back on my arms.

"Oh, I'm sorry your highness." He snaps back and I frown at him, irritation irking within me.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Jace's emerald eyes snap towards me, the moonlight almost making them shine. "Nothing."

I sit up straight at that. "What the fuck?"

He doesn't respond, instead flops down on the blanket a few inches away from me, close but keeping his distance. I study him, the hard look on his eyes, the tense jaw. My brain replays the look on his face when Nathan was sitting with me.

"Is this about Nathan?" I guffaw, unable to keep the surprise from seeping into my voice. "Parker, are you jealous?"

"You fucking wish, Rivers." Jace grunts, refusing to meet my eyes as he lays on his back, staring up at the sky through the patch on the roof.

"Then why are you being a dick?"

"I don't fucking know! What is this, a therapy session? Stop interrogating me."

Confusion seeps through me, and even though he's clearly telling me to back off, I don't want to. I want answers.

"You fucking need therapy, that's for sure." I snap.
"I told you to forget what happened between us."

Jace sits up in a flash, his eyes blazing as he glares at me. "And I clearly fucking said that I can't. I tried. I fucking tried for days."

My jaw slacks slightly from surprise and I stare at him, not able to form a response, but I don't need to, because he continues.