Ace of Hearts by Lucy Mason

Author:Lucy Mason
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, Romance, contemporary, new adult, family-drama, asexual, college students, sports injury, fake marriage, slow burn, friends to lovers, abusive father, depression
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2022-09-13T00:00:00+00:00

IF WE HAD expected Ray to make a move soon, we were mistaken. The semester at Morrow ended. I finalized my spring class schedule and filed a tuition waiver. Hesper worked late with Jasmine decorating for the gala. All quiet on the western front, and when I got a text from Jackson about the team Christmas party, I felt confident we could go without incident.

Well. We. Maybe just I.

“I don’t do parties, and I especially don’t do parties with a bunch of muscleheads who introduce themselves to me by saying damn, girl, you’re fine.” Hesper was stretched out on the couch, her legs draped over mine and her sketch pad in her lap.

“I was one of those muscleheads. They’re my team.”

“Your team. Who shrugged you off like an old jacket once you couldn’t play anymore,” she deadpanned. “Excuse me if I don’t have much respect for the way they treated you.”

“I’m going to your gala.”

“Felix,” she said patiently, putting down her pencil. “Don’t even try to play the reciprocity card on me. You don’t have to go to the gala. If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll go by myself. Because I care about you, and I don’t want you to be miserable.”

No matter what I said, I’d come out looking like a jackass. I grimaced. “I don’t want to leave you here alone while I’m gone.”

“I managed just fine for the last three years; I promise you I can last a single night while you go hang out with your dude bro friends.” She pulled her legs back, and I missed her warmth immediately. “It’s okay if we don’t do everything together, you know. I’ll stay here and paint.”

“You could have Jasmine over for movie night,” I suggested.

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need to be babysat. Go to your dumb party tomorrow, and I’ll paint and recharge my introvert batteries. It’ll be fine.”

“You’ll text me if you need anything?”

“Of course. Not that you’ll be able to do anything, because you’ll be an hour away.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, do you know how hard it’s been trying to wrap your present with you hovering all the time?”

“You—you got me a present?”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas. You’re my…” She flapped her hand. “My something.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Husband. Best friend. Boyfriend. All of the above.”

She knew I hadn’t grown up with much; my job was only part-time, and we had never exchanged presents. This year though, things were different.

“Calm down. It’s nothing fancy, and I don’t expect anything in return.” She stood up and stretched.

I held my hand out, wiggling my fingers, raising my eyebrows.

Sometimes she was secretive about her drawings. This time, she handed it right over. The corner of the page was filled with my face from the side—she must have drawn me while I was watching TV—but the rest of it contained a dozen or more mask designs, most featuring feathers, others with purple sequins and silvery pearls or covered in a fine mesh of lace. Some had sticks so the mask could be held up; others were threaded with ribbons so they could be tied on.

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