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She seems in a hurry.
I force the words out. The sooner we deal with it, the sooner we can get back to normal. “I’m sorry about last night,” I tell her. “It was my fault, and it shouldn’t have happened. Okay?”
Her hands slow, and I see her eyes shift as she digs in her pack, but she doesn’t look at me.
She pulls the zipper closed and straightens, heading toward me and pulling open the fridge.
“I gotta go,” she says.
I watch her warily. She doesn’t seem mad. She just seems nervous. Maybe she was waiting for me to take the lead to see how to handle this.
Or perhaps she wants to act like it didn’t happen at all. Maybe she regrets it.
Do I regret it?
Yeah. Yeah, of course I do.
But I enjoyed it, too. The need to take her up to my bed and savor every second and every inch of her was like looking forward to heaven last night. I wanted it. I couldn’t wait.
And I wouldn’t have stopped. My muscles hurt just thinking about what I was going to put my body through to enjoy every moment with her.
But even without Cole, she’s still half my age. Nothing about this is right.
“You’re a beautiful girl, Jordan,” I say in nearly a whisper, “but you are just a girl.”
She pauses at the fridge next to me, and I see her swallow. She’s so pretty. Hair clean and flowing, make-up subtle with just a hint of pink on her lips…
“My head wasn’t straight,” I explain. “We’re both lonely, and I’ve loved having you here so much the boundaries got blurred. It won’t happen again.”
She nods, and her gaze drops. I wish I knew what she was thinking. It’s not like her to be so quiet. Does she hate me?
“It’s okay,” she says gently.
But I shake my head. “It’s not. I don’t expect that from you. I want you to know that.”
God knows she gets enough of that shit at work.
Taking her apple and bottle of water, she turns and walks for the table, picking up her bag. She can’t have class this early, but I’m not about to question her like it’s my business. I’ve done enough to her the past twenty-four hours.
I watch as she leaves the kitchen and enters the foyer, pulling her house keys off the hook. She reaches for the door but stops, pausing.
“My hands were on you, too,” she says.
And then she pulls the door open and walks out, closing it gently behind her.
I stare after her, the empty space making me suddenly want her back.
“Don’t say things like that,” I mumble to an empty house.
If I know you want it, too, how will I be able to resist you?
“You sure you don’t want to come?” Dutch asks.
I shake my head, tossing my gear into the bed of the truck. “Nothing sounds worse than a bar full of people and pre-frozen mozzarella sticks right now,” I tell him. “I have a date with a leftover calzone in the fridge.”
Todd passes by, laughing. “I’ll bet calzones taste even better with a certain barefoot blonde making them, too.”
My neck heats up from the teasing. I don’t think anyone knows Cole isn’t staying at the house right now, but Jordan’s and my interactions haven’t gone by unnoticed. Poker night, the lingerie show, her bringing me lunch…. The guys are drawing their own conclusions, I’m sure.
