xviii. LOSING BETS

"Wh-what?" I manage to stammer out. "How did you know I wear contacts?"

"Your left pupil doesn't dilate whereas your right one does. The left limbus is less distinct, and the coloration of your iris is different," Ace smoothly states.

"Jesus Christ, are you a medical textbook or something?" I sigh.

"I like to observe."

The contact was faint in my hand as I took it out. The flexible plastic was smooth, thin, insignificant and yet was somehow the guise that made all the difference. A single brown colored eye and stark jaded one looked onto Ace.

He scrutinizes me with clear objectivity. I felt as uncomfortable as a lab subject until eventually, his lips tug upward.

"Your eyes are magnetic," Ace says softly after a moment's pause. "Why do you hide it?"

The difference of heterochromia was startling on my face, and no one ever saw me without colored contacts. My gaze flickers quickly away, not in shame but in nervousness.

"My father had green eyes. Seeing a part of him every time I looked into the mirror wasn't something I was ready to deal with," I say. "Besides, it's a giant imperfection in the middle of my face."

Ace brings my chin up to meet his face. "Don't ever think that."

A foreign part of me wanted nothing more than to pull him into me. In this moment, everything about him—from his incessant but endearing narcissism to his admiration for imperfections—compelled me.

Our breaths intertwine as Ace slowly leans in. My heart begins to hitch, pounding furiously against my ribcage as if it was a prisoner in my own body. My fingers trail across his jawline in certainty.

Suddenly, Skye and Chase drunkenly stumble into the penthouse.

I quickly jump away from Ace's arms.

A disheveled Chase is leaning against Skye for support, and by the looks of it, Skye was almost crushed under his weight. Xavier was nowhere to be found. Skye hauls Chase's body to the couch and dumps him there. The latter falls asleep instantly at an impressive pace.

"Looks like you guys had fun," I cough.

Skye gestures to the sleeping gang leader. "Sleeping Beauty over here had too much fun."

"Where's Xavier?"

"He went home with some cute brunette guy. Hopefully, Xavier will find his way back somehow by tomorrow."

Skye wipes her brow whiling looking suspiciously between Ace and I. My face was probably crimson at this point, but Ace had mastered nonchalance.

"What did you two do all night?" Skye smirks.

"We just watched some TV," I rush to respond.

"Is that all you did?"

"Fortunately yes," Ace retorts.

"He's right," I fight a smile. "I can't stand him—we'd never be together even if he was the last man on Earth."

Ace crosses his arms and lets out a low scoff. I could only imagine the fury of teasing he'd later make at my expense.

~

I was brushing my teeth when an abrasive knock interrupts my thoughts at the door. My bedroom door opens to reveal Ace, leaning against the doorframe, and wearing a thin shirt which traced every muscle on his build.

The whole ensemble took me by surprise; Ace walks in without waiting for an invitation.

"Why are you here at one in the morning?" I question.

"Well why are you brushing your teeth at one in the morning?" He responds.

Slightly ashamed, I break eye contact. "I went to go eat some of Xavier's cheesecake as a midnight snack so I had to brush my teeth again."

"Atta girl," Ace says while taking a seat on my bed.

"Stop circumventing my question. Why are you in my bedroom?"

"I'm here to check up on your gunshot wound." But the way his eyes looked me up and down showed signs of ulterior motives.

"Is one AM really the best time to be doing this, Blackwell?"

"It's Doctor Blackwell to you. Now take off your shirt." Ace is wearing a darkened smirk while he examines me.

I retaliate with a long, cold deadpan. However, he clearly was not going to move, and I wanted to sleep as soon as possible. Might as well get this over with.

Giving in, I turn away from him and swiftly throw off my shirt, leaving me in only a sports bra.

Ace takes out an alcohol swab and disinfects the wound. Fortunately, unlike last time, the disinfectant doesn't hurt anymore.

"Have you been taking your medicine?" Ace asks.

"I try to as often as I can remember, but in all honesty, I'm not conscious of it." Now that I think about it, I haven't taken any medicine in the past week. "It's not going to delay the healing process right?"

Ace spins me around. He furrows his brows slightly, indicating a deep muse.

"Your scar is completely gone. It looks like your body has managed to heal itself."

I instinctively touch my shoulder blade where the gunshot wound once was. Sure enough, there was nothing but smooth skin, not even a faint scar.

"I guess I just have a good doctor," I smile.

"Definitely the best," he winks. Ace then ran his hand through his hair the way he always did when he was unsure.

"So... about tonight," he starts.

"We should probably just keep things professional," I say in a transparently unconvincing tone. "With Thirteen and everything crazy going on, we can't afford to be distracted."

Ace grabs me by the wrist and pulls me into his lap so roughly that I crash directly into his chest. Again, I find myself breathless as he scans my eyes.

"We shouldn't..." I whisper.

"If that's what you want," Ace smirks. It's clear he doesn't believe me, but he doesn't push. "Though let's be honest—that's more torture for you than it is for me."

I pull myself together and leave his embrace despite how comforting it was. But there was no way in hell, heaven, or hogwarts I'd let him know that.

"Oh please," I roll my eyes. "I've seen much better."

Acee becomes deadly silent, like a predator waiting to strike. An amused and knowing look tugged at his features.

"Seven, thirty, and one hundred twenty," he states.

"Excuse me?"

"You're holding eye contact for seven seconds too long, your breathing rate is extremely fast at 30 breaths per minute, and your pulse is a staggering 120. All these physiological signs indicate that you're lying, Cupcake."

I wince. This man was absolutely, meticulously insane. Seriously—the CIA must have implanted a computer in his mind during training.

"When did you take my pulse?"

"I took your pulse at your wrist when you were in my lap. I can take it again if you get back in my lap," Ace winks.

My breath subconsciously hitches. "We can't."

Ace gives me an unconvinced look. "If that's what you want. Now get some sleep Cupcake, we'll be traveling tomorrow."

"Where to?"

Ace smirks. "How's your French?"

Ace: "Hit that vote button, and I'll take you to France."

Holy shitzles we hit #12 in action!