When Constellations Form (Light in the Dark 4)

He laughs fully at that. “Don’t tell anybody. I have to let them think I’m just a pretty face.” He rubs his jaw and smirks.

“I can’t believe summer is over,” I mutter, looking out the window.

“Winter’s not so bad.”

“Bleh.” I gag. “It’s cold and wet, and did I mention cold?”

He chuckles. “It’s not that bad.” He picks up his burger and takes a bite, making a big show of chewing.

“Is it good?” I ask.

“Fucking fantastic. So, what’s new with you?” he asks.

I raise a brow. “Are you seriously asking me about my life?” I have to bite my tongue not to call him Jacen.

“I’m trying to be nice. You make it difficult.”

I laugh. “Well, we bought a house.”

He groans. “I fucking knew that. I’ve been there.”

“No, we bought another house. Xander calls it a cabin, I call it a mansion. It’s like a getaway house. He wanted some place for all of us to be able to go and hang out. He’s really excited for the winter when you all can go snowboarding.”

“No shit. That sounds fun.” His eyes widen, clearly impressed.

“I’m excited about it. I wasn’t at first, but once he told me why, I understood.”

“So what the fuck is up with this dinner at Rae and Cade’s place? It keeps getting canceled and it’s pissing me off.”

“I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe she’s pregnant too,” I joke.

Jace laughs. “That’s all we need, two of you pregnant at the same time. Though, I doubt any one of them would be as psycho as you.”

“You say psycho, I say … nope, I’m psycho.”

We finish our meal, and Jace ends up asking for a box to take the rest home with him for Nova.

“Are we done now?” he asks when we exit the building.

“No, I want to shop a bit.”

An inhuman growling type noise escapes him. “No.”

“Yes.” I grab his arm and tug him in the direction I want to go.

There are all sorts of stores, so this could take hours.

I smile to myself at that.

Jace might lose his mind by the end of this, but oh what fun I’ll have.

“For the love of God, let me walk you back to your car,” Jace groans, tilting his head back dramatically. “I only have two hours before I have to go to work.”

“One more store,” I plead. “Just one.” I hold up a finger and wiggle it around.

“Fine,” he reluctantly agrees, weighed down with my shopping bags.

For the record, I didn’t ask him to carry them, he offered, and he’s probably really regretting that now.