Jocelyn’s green eyes softened. “I did notice he wasn’t here, Clary. I just didn’t know if you’d want to talk about it.”
“I mean,” Clary went on doggedly, “do you think there’s something Jace could do to *make* you like him?”
“Yes,” Jocelyn said. “He could make you happy.” She touched Clary’s face lightly, and Clary clenched her hand, feeling the bell press into her skin.
“He does make me happy,” Clary said. “But he can’t control everything in the world, Mom. Other things happen — “ she fumbled for words; how could she explain that it wasn’t Jace making her unhappy, but what was happening to him, without revealing what that was?

"Don't be sorry." There was a ragged edge to his words that surprised her. "Jocelyn doesn't want you to turn out like me. I don't blame her for that."

"Jace," she said, a little bewildered by the bitterness in his voice, "are you all right?"

Instead of answering, he kissed her, pulling her hard against him. His body pressed hers against the wall, the metal of the mirror cold against her back, his hands sliding around her waist. She always loved the way he held her. Careful, but not too gentle, not so gentle that she ever felt he was more in control than she was. Neither of them could control how they felt about each other and she liked that, liked the way his heart hammered against hers, liked the way he murmured against her mouth when she kissed him back.

but whats up with jace

I would to like to known what is up with Jace as well