My mouth opens to answer her, then closes. When I open it again, no words come out.
Today was a date. We specified that it was. But that’s not what strikes me as strange. It’s the fact that I spent days researchingthe Grand Canyon just so I could take Jordan, and I wonder if I didn’t follow through on it until the very last minute because subconsciously, I knew that it would be a date.
Because subconsciously I wanted it to be a date.
And I don’t fucking date.
Until today.
Chapter 11
Liam
Steppingofftheelevator,I head toward my room, phone in hand. Brody did me a solid by deciding to play a few rounds of blackjack before heading for bed which means I don’t need to wait to knock on Jordan’s door. Something I decided I was doing in the cab ride over.
She hasn’t texted me again, and I’ve kept my itchy fingers from sending another message—despite wanting to. To find out if “maybe later” was going to turn into a yes.
Swiping a thumb around on my keypad, I send her a message as I reach her room.
Me: You up?
I follow it with a quick rap on her door, my head bowed, listening intently for any sounds coming from within to tell me she’s awake. It’s pretty quiet; I’m certain that not even the TV is on, and I wonder if I’m too late. Maybe she’s asleep.
Or fuck—what if she’s out? What if that douchebag texted her, and she met up with him? What if they’re downstairs in the bar and I walked right by them? Would she do that? Would she allow herself to be fooled into having drinks with him?
No. There’s no way. That’s crazy talk. Jordan spent months getting over that fuck. There’s no way she would throw all that progress away. Besides, I saw the way she reacted to him. She wantednothing to do with him.
And why the fuck does it matter? Why the fuck does it feel like my stomach is hanging out around my knees? Fucking hell.
I need to fuck. Between the date today, the itchy fingers, Savanna’s inquisition, and now the knotted stomach, there’s one thing I know that can cure all my ailments because it cures everything. If Jordan opens the door, I’m going to fuck her into oblivion.
Normalcy will be good.
What if she doesn’t answer?
Groaning to myself, my jaw clenches tight. I don’t want to think about the answer. Mostly because I know I’m not going to like it. I don’t want to five finger it.
You could find someone else.
Shaking my head to shut that thought down the second it enters my brain, I’m saved when a text comes through.
Jordan: Yes
My lips pull into a smile. It feels like I’ve been standing here for hours, but I don’t think it’s been two minutes since I rapped on her door. A door that jostles just enough for me to notice. Almost like someone is on the other side of it, perhaps looking through a peephole.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I lift my head, bringing my arms up to the sides of the doorframe. Leaning against it, I stare directly into the peephole, one corner of my mouth crooking up into a smile.
“Open. The. Door.”
It doesn’t take her a second before she’s doing as she’s told. There’s an audible sigh that comes from her that makes my dick twitch. She’s happy to see me. If the sound she made didn’t tellme, the way her eyes are roaming over me does.
I peruse her as well. Fuck, she’s sexy as hell. It’s like she doesn’t get it, either. She doesn’t need the makeup, or the hair to be perfectly in place, or the skimpy little dresses, or even the heels—although, the heels are fun as fuck when we’re fucking. Jordan is gorgeous without any of it. Standing there in an oversized Santa Rosé Fire t-shirt and a pair of little shorts with her hair piled on top of her head, it might be the sexiest I’ve ever seen her look.
Bringing my attention back to her face, I can see color blooming across her cheeks. It’s not easy to get Jordan to blush, but something has her beautifully rosy.
“Hi,” I murmur, my voice husky.
Her chest lifts and falls quickly at the sound. “Hi.”
