Hera Lightwood's P.O.V.
The sound of a loud beep rouses me awake. I sit up quickly and lash out to strike the alarm on the nightstand that isn't going off. It's not the alarm making that noise, it's a car on the street below.
It's seven in the morning, the sun is shining bright through the open windows. From up here, it almost feels like home—almost. I climb out of bed and walk to the window. Looking out straight, the bright blue sky, the thick puffy clouds rolling by, and with the sun still rising over the horizon.
I drop my eyes down, finding my new life in the busy morning street. It's a totally different world. With my forehead pressed to the glass, cars and buses are coming and going in both directions, people are moving like working bees, zipping by on bikes, and walking with their phones glued to their ears.
A sliver of fear mixes with excitement. This is nothing like my life before. Everything is moving, constantly making noise with no down time. I'm afraid I won't like this new place, and I'll want to escape back home. In the same breath, I'm excited to explore. To be in the middle of the belly of a place. To hear all the sounds and immerse myself in every aspect.
I need a shower.
I open my suitcase and shuffle through until I find a nice halter top sundress. I poke my head out the door, and see that Jace is nowhere in sight. I'm not sure if he's here or if he left for work. I don't have any clue what his schedule looks like, or if he works at all. For all I know he's going to be a couch ornament until Isabelle gets here.
I tip toe to the bathroom with everything I need. My clothes, shoes, blow dryer, and small pouch of makeup are tucked under my arm. The apartment is pretty quiet, except for the subtle hum of the fridge.
The bathroom is grand styled but simple. There's a pedestal sink and a wicker cupboard over the toilet. I set my stuff down on the toilet seat, and take a towel out of the cupboard.
After a nice hot shower, I change and do my hair and makeup. My plans for the day are to walk around the city and take it all in.
I open the door with my stuff in my arms and stop in my tracks. Jace is leaning against the counter in the kitchen. He's wearing dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a baseball cap with a giant B in the center.
“You finally ready?” he asks.
“Ready for what?”
“For your tour of the city.” He holds out his arms and smiles. “Welcome to Boston, I'm Jace Herondale and I'll be your tour guide today.”
“Wait, what? I didn't—”
“Ask me? I know, my sister did. So, here I am.” He looks down at his phone and pulls the keys from his pocket. “Let's go, I know this great coffee shop up on Newbury Street.”
“I have no idea where Newbury Street is.”
“I know, and that's why I'm here. You're going to know this city inside and out by the time I'm done with you.” He opens the door and fans his arm for me to pass through.
I look him up and down again. Taking in the casual, but oh so sexy look he has going on. I'm doomed. I can feel it. This man looks good in anything he puts on his body.
Lord help me, I think to myself as I smile and go into the hall. At least he's not wearing gray sweatpants.
Jace locks up the apartment. I start for the stairs. “Where are you going?” he asks.
“The stairs.” I point and arch a brow.
“Or we can just take the elevator.”
“There's an elevator?”
He chuckles and jerks his head for me to follow him. “You're in the city now, where being innovative is also a bit lazy.” We walk around the corner, and there it is.
“I wish I had known that yesterday.”
“Well, now you know.” He pulls the metal doors open using the thick leather strap and spreads the iron cage doors apart. “After you.”
“So, this is what you call an elevator? It looks more like a death trap. You sure this thing is safe?”
“No, but it's been here since the building was built, so I'm assuming it is.”
“That's reassuring.”
I step into the box, and he shuts us in. Jace pushes the giant red button on the wall and the elevator clunks and jerks, almost throwing me off my feet.
“Holy shit,” I say, reaching out and grabbing his arm instinctively. I needed something sturdy, and he's right here. It only makes sense.
He grins and places his hand over mine. “Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you.”
A spark sizzles up my arm, sending a rush of tingles swirling through my chest. The tips of his fingers linger there, the sensation growing stronger as it keeps washing down my body.
I pull my hand away and clear my throat. “I appreciate that. But you don't control the elevator.”
“True, but who really has control of anything? Life is a series of risk.”
I rub the back of my hand, trying to erase the feeling of his touch that's still tickling my skin. “I can agree with you on that, but I still think luck is a part of life, too.”
The elevator stops and he opens the doors. “Well, at least we're agreeing on something. That's a start.”
“A start to what?” I ask.
“To whatever you want it to be.” He grins and winks, reaching out to grab my hand and pull me along. “Come on, the coffee shop is right around the corner. We can still make it there before they get hit with the lunch rush.”
We walk about a block, and my feet are aching a little bit, but not too bad. I've wanted to wear these heels for ages and never had a place to go. Heels like these have no place on the farm back home.
He pulls the door open on the coffee shop and I'm hit with the bold scent of espresso, fresh coffee, and sweet pastries. Small tables are scattered around the front dining room. There's live ivy growing up the corners of the walls and crawling across a hanging wood track on the ceiling.
The glass display cases are full of fresh baked muffins, glazed cinnamon rolls, cranberry pistachio cookies, apple tarts, and gorgeous cakes. Instantly, my stomach grumbles and my mouth waters for a coffee.
“What do you want? It's on me.”
“No, you don't have to do that.”
“I don't have to, I want to. Order whatever you want, just nothing over ten dollars.” He chuckles and smiles. “I'm kidding.”
“I figured.” I lean over and peer into the glass case. Pointing at the strawberry cheesecake turnover, I say, “I want one of those and a nitro cold brew.”
Jace orders himself an egg and cheese sandwich and a medium hot coffee. We find a table near the window and sit down to eat.
“So,” he says, blowing air across his drink, “Kentucky, huh?”
“Yeah. Why? Do people from Kentucky not come here often?”
“Hell if I know. You're the first I've ever met from there. But your accent is going to have people asking you where you're from all the time.”
“Is it that noticeable?” I grin and wipe my fingers. “I mean, I guess I do like to pronounce the Rs in my words unlike you Boston folk.”
“That's true. We like to leave them out. But you have that little twang in your voice, and I bet you say things like hey y'all.”
“And I bet you say things like caa instead of car.”
“You got me there. And we say paak instead of park, haba instead of harbor. We just don't have time for all those R's.” Jace gives me a big smirk and nods. “What did you do back home?”
“I worked on my parents’ horse farm.”
“That sounds cool.”
“Not as cool as you think. I mean, I liked it, but spending all day, everyday shoveling hay and cleaning stalls can be boring.”
“I can see that, but to be honest, I think if you do the same thing every day, no matter what you do, it becomes boring. I spend every day counting boxes and pallets and loads from trucks.”
“You should do something else, then. That's why I left and came here, to try something new.”
“Yeah, maybe. But right now, I've got to be here for Isabelle.”
“Really? Your sister can stop you from living life?”
“No, but that's what you do when you're family. You help. Trust me, I'm no more happy to be here than you are to have me here. But that's life. Shit comes up.”
He has a good heart.
I can see it. I can feel it. Those simple statements tell me a lot about him. Yeah, he might be a playboy. But he has morals and loves his family. That's sexier than what he looks like and how hard his body is.
But hot damn, that body. His biceps bulge as they roll under skin when he lifts his cup to his mouth. Jace sits back in the chair and stretches his arms above his head. His shirt tightens against his chest and taunts me with what I know is underneath.
“You're doing it again,” he says.
I flick my eyes up and he's staring at me with those bold clear eyes. The blue is radiant, full of dark and bright shades. I hold my breath, not sure what to say. He caught me checking him out again.
Damn it.
“I'm not doing anything. You have cheese on your shirt.” Quick thinking, Hera.
“I do?” He looks down, and there's a small strip of cheese strewn across his chest. “I guess I do.” He pulls it off and eats it anyway. “That doesn't mean you weren't still checking me out though, because you were.”
“I was not. I just couldn't stop staring at the cheese.”
“Yeah, I'm not believing it.” He tips his chin into his chest, his lips curving up into a playful grin. “I saw the way you were looking at me. Your eyes were not on the cheese.”
“You're so wrong—”
“No,” he says, cutting me off. “It's okay. I know I'm hard not to look at it.”
“Full of yourself much?”
“Sometimes.” He lifts his cup in front of his face as he takes a sip and looks up at me from over the rim. Lowering the cup, he holds it in both hands. “And you should be too. Look at you, you're gorgeous.”
“I don't think your sister would want to hear you were hitting on her friend.”
He waves a hand in the air and huffs. “My sister doesn't need to know everything. Does she?”
I sit quiet for a long second, my lips pursing tight. “I suppose not.”
“Good. So, let's go hit this city. Now that we understand my sister doesn't have to know everything, I can show you a really good time.” He downs the last of his coffee and throws out our trash.
“So, where to now?” I ask as we step back out on the street.
“A special little place I think will make you feel at home.”
I follow him down the street, walking side by side. We talk a little about what it was like for him and his sister to grow up just outside of the city. It was pretty normal, nothing wild or crazy. Surprisingly, not much different than my childhood. I guess it doesn't matter where you grow up, some stuff is just kids being kids.
He graduated, barely, but Isabelle graduated with high honors and was valedictorian of her class. He's two years older than her, but he's always been protective of her. Once he beat up some kid who kept picking on her, turns out the kid actually liked her, but Jace didn't know until the kid started crying and blurted it out.
He was your typical boy growing up. Played football, got in a little trouble here and there. Nothing too intense, but he wasn't innocent. And I can still see it. I can already see that wild side in him, and I've only known him for a day.
Jace hops over a small wall and holds out his arms.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Climb up on top and jump down. I'll catch you.”
“Catch me? No, I don't think do.”
“Well, you can't jump the wall in those things.”
I look down at my dress and heels. He's right. And I know he's right. But I'm a stubborn girl. I like to do things for myself.
“I'll figure it out. I can do it on my own.”
“Or you can just let me help you.”
“Or I'll figure it out.” I reiterate. “I've got this,” I say, attempting to hold my dress to cover my lady parts and swing one leg over the wall.
“You're going to break your ankle.”
“No, I won't. I'm like a gazelle on my feet.”
“I've never seen a gazelle do what you're about to do in heels like that.”
“Just you watch.” I have one leg over the wall. Looking down, the wall is a lot higher than I thought.
I bite my lip as my brain tries to decipher this little problem. I know if I actually jump, the spikes of my heels will either spear the ground or my foot will roll unnaturally, and I'll keel over in pain. Plus, my dress will fly up, possibly over my head, exposing far too much of my goods.
Or. . .
I swing my leg back over and climb on top of the wall on my knees. I carefully sit down and let my legs fall over the edge. I pull off my heels and pinch the end of my dress to hold it in place.
And then I jump.
Jace is right there, his arms out just in case I need him. But I land on flat feet in the grass. I fix my hair and give him a little smile. “Like a gazelle,” I say, slipping my heels back on my feet.
He laughs and shakes his head. “Looks like you showed me.”
“I told you.”
“No, it looks like you're showing me your panties.” He jerks his head at my backside and wags his brows.
I throw a hand behind my back, only to realize that my dress, while I had held down the front, folded and tucked itself against my hip. Half my ass is showing, and he's enjoying every second of the view.
Quickly, I pull it free and fix the edges. “That wasn't part of my plan.”
“See, you can't control everything in life no matter how much you want to.” He holds his hand out and flips his fingers. “At least let me help you down to the pavement so you don't give me another show.”
I reluctantly agree and take his hand. “Fine, but don't think this means you win.”
“I always win, Hera. You'll learn that soon enough.”
He braids his fingers with mine, and we walk slowly down the sloping hill to the path below. “Where are we?” I ask.
“A place I think you're going to really like. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two.”
“I don't understand.”
“You will. It's right over here.” We follow the path around a sharp bend, and as the thin layer of trees begins to open up, I see a giant carousel. “Ta da,” he sings softly.
It's beautiful. The carousel has a white and blue pie top, with gold hawks and mirrors alternating around the outside edge. There's an oak floor with several different Bradley and Kaye horses and a chariot secured in place. It was built in nineteen-forty-seven and I feel like I’m walking back in time. I can see the old-fashioned craftsmanship that went into this. It's not just a carousel, it's a piece of art.
“Well, think you can show me how to ride one of these bad boys?” he asks.
“I think I can do that.”
Jace pays for both of us, and we walk around the carousel until I spot a gorgeous white horse wearing a necklace of roses.
“This one. This is the one I'm going to ride.”
“All right, I'll take this one.” Jace pats the horse next to mine. “You need my help to get on?”
“I thought you wanted a lesson from me?”
“I'd love a lesson from you on how to ride.” He winks as he nibbles his bottom lip.
“You're bad,” I say as I slip my leg over the horse, being extra cautious that the back of my dress stays down.
“I know. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a pretty girl.” He climbs on his horse, his hands gliding up the golden pole.
“Your sister did warn me about you.”
“I'm sure she did, but she's got it all wrong, I can tell you that. She doesn't know what she's talking about.”
“Sure she doesn't.” The carousel starts to move, my horse beginning to lift and lower slowly. “Here's my tip for you: hold on tight and hope it doesn't throw you off.”
“That's it?”
“On one of these horses, yes. On a real one it's a totally different story.”
“Maybe you can show me sometime. I've never been on a real horse before.”
“Maybe I can, but you'll have to listen to what I say. And. . .”
“And what?” he asks.
“And hope you can keep up.”
The carousel starts to move faster. Both our horses are rising and falling, and the wind is blowing through my hair. This is the most fun I've had in a long time. I'm laughing and smiling.
“So, tell me, Hera,” Jace says as we step off the ride, “is there anything you've always wanted to do, and couldn't back in Kentucky?”
“Actually, there is. I've always wanted to see a movie on one those big screens in the theater. The closest place to my house was over an hour away. And with all the work we had to do for the horses, we never had the time to go.” I stop and pick up my foot to rub it. “I shouldn’t have worn these heels.”
“Your feet hurt?” he asks.
“Yeah, they're killing me.”
Jace drops down and taps his back. “Hop on.”
“Hop on?”
“Yeah, hop on. I'll give you a ride home.”
“Are you sure?”
He glances back at me and smacks his shoulder again. I pull my heels off and wrap myself around him. Jace stands up, curling his arms around my legs. He starts walking, so I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on tight.
“Just so you know, I charge by the hour, but you never have to worry about me throwing you off.”
“That's good, but, what if I'm broke? I don't start my job until tomorrow.”
“I think we can work something out then.”
“Dishes?” I ask giggling.
“Not exactly what I was thinking, but we can start there.” Jace chuckles as his feet hit the pavement hard, making my body bounce and grind against his back.
His cologne swirls up, causing me to lean closer. The more the wind blows his scent in my face, the more I want to breathe him in. It's like a drug for my body. My nipples are hard, my stomach is in knots, and I can feel myself falling.
Falling closer. Falling into his muscles on purpose. Falling for a man I barely know.
My pussy starts to throb as my clit swells. Every step he takes makes my hips shift up and down. It's turning me on. My sensitive button pulses harder and faster. I push my hips back, trying to stop myself from coming from a damn piggyback ride.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks, pausing for a second and hoisting me a little higher.
“Yeah, I'm good.” I can feel the pitch in my voice change. “Are you comfortable? I can walk if I'm getting too heavy for you.”
“Heavy? You're not heavy. I could climb a mountain with you on my back.”
“I doubt that.”
“Want to try?”
Laughing, I say, “No, I'm good. I don't want to fall to my death because you need to prove yourself.”
“I'd never drop you.” He looks back at me, his eyes serious. “Not even on a mountain.” He licks his lips, his lids lowering to half-mast. “I might not be perfect, but I do what's right.”
“I can tell you try at least.”
“I'll take that. My father always said that people can judge you for anything. So, if you're going to be judged, be judged for what you do right, not what you do wrong.”
“That's good advice. My father always said a horse only shits one way, but people find ways to shit all over everything.”
“Your dad's a wise man. He's right, people can just be shitty.”
I tighten my arms around him and rest my chin in the crook of his neck. “Thank you for this,” I say. “Not just for carrying me, but for taking me around the city too.”
“No problem. We can do this again if you want. I'd love to take you to Quincy Market, but I have to work tomorrow for a few hours. I'm free this weekend though.”
“I might take you up on that.”
“Here we are, back home,” he says.
He starts to set me down, but I grip him harder. “We're still outside, you aren't putting me down just yet, are you?”
His fingers slip up my calves and he smiles at the challenge. “Not a chance in hell.”
I reach out and pull the door open for us. Jace starts for the elevator, and I kick him with my heel.
“I see a mountain. Don't you?”
He smiles back at me, giving me another good hoist up on his back, and secures his hands around my legs. “Hold on tight.”
My hands clasp together, arms as tight as I can get around him. Jace starts up the stairs. I'm laughing as he grunts and groans like he's struggling with each step. As he reaches the second-floor landing, he roars like a lion and takes off in a sprint.
We reach our floor, and he's breathing heavy. “Got the key?” he asks.
“No, Isabelle was supposed to have it for me.”
“Get mine. It's in my front right pocket.”
I stretch my arm down and into his pocket. He's watching me through the corner of his eye with a slight smirk on his face. My fingers dig deeper, feeling way down into the bottom corner. The key pokes my finger, and as I grab it, I feel something else bump against my fingertips.
Jace chuckles. “Don't worry, I won't bite.” He veers his stare and bites his bottom lip. “Unless you ask me to.”
My cheeks blush and I bury my face in his shoulder. “You're terrible.”
“I'm sorry, I can't help it. There's a beautiful woman wrapped around me.”
He turns slightly so I can unlock the door. I push it open, and he carries me inside. The door closes behind us, sealing me inside with this god of a man. He sets me down and turns around to face me.
We're almost nose to nose as he looks down at me. His hands are still on my hips, fingers softly pressing in deeper. He swirls his thumbs in small circles, and just looks at me. There's something about the way he's looking at me that makes my heart gallop in my chest.
It's his eyes. The depth, the color, the lure of attraction. Everything inside me is screaming with desire.
He licks his lips, lowering his face a hair closer to mine. I want to kiss him. The temptation is so strong I lick my lips reflexively, anticipating what's coming next. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth and chew the inside of my cheek.
His eyes dance between mine like a flame in the wind. His pupils grow so wide I can see myself inside them. Jace lowers his face a little more. I hold my breath.
He exhales, his warm breath cascading across my cheeks and down over my neck. The light stubble on his jaw casts a shadow over his face, making his cheekbones pop and his eyes darken.
Our lips are almost touching. He's right here. Oh my god, he's too close! No, Hera! No!
It's like my brain snapped its thumbs to wake me up from this trance he's putting me in. “Okay,” I say quickly, taking a long step to the side to put space between us. “Good night.” I swivel on my heels, and speed walk to my room.
I leave him standing in the living room. Alone. His head still hanging forward. Lips still primed and ready. Probably warm and wet and delicious, but I can't do this.
My bed catches me as I fall forward, and I bury my head under the pillow, pressing my face into the sheet. Groaning to myself, I hide in my own ridiculous lust for a man I know is a playboy.
I feel stupid for almost kissing him. I feel dumb for even thinking about it. This isn't just some guy, this is my roommate, and my friend's older brother. It's the ultimate betrayal.
And he's a player.
She gave me the stern warning. Who am I to doubt her? Isabelle knows her brother. She's saving me from not only the heartache of a man who can't settle down and probably doesn't want to, but also from the awkwardness of what that would feel like for her.
I don't want to be just another notch in his belt, and I don't want to be just another notch in his belt, and I don't want to ruin a good friendship.
Keep a clear head, Hera!
He's not worth the trouble.