Like Gold

39.

39.

JACE WALKED OUT of the pool area, his towel slung around his neck and water dripping from his hair. He swung his keys around his finger, and I lifted a brow at him, folding my arms over my chest.

"Took you long enough," I teased. "Had to put on makeup, did you? Fix your hair?"

He rolled his eyes with a grin, throwing an arm around my shoulders and pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

"Had to say goodbye to everyone," he said. "What can I say? I'm popular."

"I'm sure Dolores and Beatrice can live without you."

"I don't know, they seemed pretty teary eyed," he shot back, glancing over his shoulder where the older clients chatted. Dolores tilted her head back, letting out a loud laugh, and I sent Jace a dubious look.

"Yeah, she looks real torn up," I said.

He shrugged. "Probably just reliving old memories. We have a lot of those, you know."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," he hummed. "Like that time we did star jumps to Queen. Or when we did high knees to Queen. Or when we did our cool down to Queen." He paused. "You sure like Queen."

"They're classic," I replied. "And I didn't see you complaining when you were nodding and singing along."

"It was pity singing-along."

"Of course," I teased, playing along. "I'll let Dolores pick the music next time."

My voice faded and I looked up to find Jace already staring at me. I sent him a tight-lipped smile and he squeezed my shoulder.

Next time.

Wordlessly, we made our way out of the centre, crossing the parking lot until we reached his van where he released me, stepping back to pull his bag off of his shoulder. His muscles flexed as he moved. He was no longer that lanky boy I'd seen limping through the hallways.

His limp had vanished, along with those crutches and that hoodie that hid his grimace.

Now, he had grown a tan. His muscles had become more toned. His hair streaked with golden, sun kissed strands from all his training in the sun.

And I knew what it felt like to run my fingers through his hair now. I knew what it was like to feel his skin against my palms, and his heartbeat thrumming beneath fingertips.

"What?"

I blinked, realising I'd been staring, and he threw me a lopsided grin. He stepped closer, looping his arms around my waist.

"I know," he began, teasingly, "I'm too handsome to look away from."

"That's not it, idiot."

"Hm?" he leaned closer, his fingers reaching up to brush my forehead, pushing strands of hair off of my skin. "What is it, then? What's on your mind?"

His hand drifted down to my cheek and I sighed, leaning into his palm.

"I was just thinking about how different things are from when we first met."

"Different?" He laughed, his teeth flashing at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, look!" I exclaimed, stepping back, and gesturing vaguely towards him. "Your limp is gone. You're finished with your physical therapy. I just – I'm going to miss seeing you on weekends."

"You'll still see me," he said. "We have school and the rest of the weekend together."

"Yeah, I know." I threw him a pretend pout. "I'll just miss seeing you shirtless and dripping wet."