Jace laughed, both at her expression and her response. He’d never been good at judging what should be said and what shouldn’t. Usually he just blurted out whatever popped into his head. Case in point. “Ha, sorry,” he apologized with a shrug. “No filter.” It wasn’t like he could even blame it on a lack of a good upbringing; he might have been a runaway, but before that his foster ‘rents had been decent people. Even if the didn’t always know what to do with him.
So she hadn’t been blowing smoke. That was cool actually, and yeah, girl had skills. When she hit her final stance he was started to slow clap, and when she relaxed he grinned wide and crowed. “You could have cleaned up in Central Park,” whether she thought so or not, that was a compliment coming from Jace, who used to haunt that park as a performer. “Nice.” He was beat, but he wasn’t irritated about it. Talent was talent, and clearly George had a lot more than he did. At least when it came to dancing.
“Better than me, for sure.”
He had to strain a little to hear what she’d said, but once he got it he nodded. “Yeah, claustrophobic,” he agreed. It was an almost perfect observation of the feeling he usually got. He wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t the only one that got that way once in a while. Most of the crew he ran with in New York would fit into that same category. But for him It was easy enough to get the feeling to go away.
“Strong-willed?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow and a barely concealed smirk. So she couldn’t be convinced, no skin off his nose. He liked the company though; she was... fun wasn’t really the right word. Interesting, yeah, that’s the word he’d used to describe her. “No, no, no,” he responded with a somewhat violent shake of his head. “Stay. I like the company.” It had just been him and the music before, which was fine, but he was in a talking mood now.