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Two
BJ
She blows air out of her mouth, nervous, shrugs it off.
Like she’s about to walk into a cage fight, that’s how her face looks.
I try my best not to laugh but I smirk a little. She frowns and smacks me in the arm.
“It’s not funny.” She glares. I smile more but it’s just because of her accent. Australian. Pretty hot.
“They hate me,” she tells me.
“They don’t.” I roll my eyes at her.
Hate is a strong word, and my parents definitely don’t hate her. They don’t hate anyone. Don’t even think my mum could hate Mussolini, let alone Jordan Dames, the only girl I’ve ever brought home for her to meet besides… well, you know who. So Mum definitely doesn’t hate her.
My siblings though…
“Jordan!” Mum sings as soon as I open the door and J holds out some flowers and a bottle of wine. She insisted on both. Pointless though because Mum already likes her and I can see Madeline rolling her eyes in the corner of the room. (“Kiss arse,” she whispers to Dad, who elbows her quiet.)
Mum takes the flowers, kisses my cheek and walks away.
“Don’t you just look beautiful!” Mum calls back at her as she puts them in a vase.
She does. She is. Black hair, blue eyes, big mouth for a white girl. Kind of like a hot Snow White.
“Sit, sit — we’re just about to eat,” Mum tells us.
Jordan sits between Mum and me.
Smart.
Protection on both sides.
Henry sits on my other side, nods his chin at her as a hello. He’s pretty reserved with her, always has been — probably has to be, I reckon, but at least he doesn’t pile on like our sisters. Not to her face, anyway.
Madeline sits directly across from Jordan though.
I pour her wine. Pour some for myself.
“Jordan.” Mads gives her a cool smile.
We met through Jonah’s stupid-hot cousins from Australia who came over for the dregs of Europe’s summer. Two sisters, Scotland and Taylor Barnes — I’d go there if I could, but I can’t. Not worth the drama though. Anyway, the girls brought Jordan with them.
We hooked up one night after Man U fucking creamed Bristol and we were on the good foot and then she kind of just stuck.
Decided to stay for a bit. Deferred her final year at university, got a job here in PR, covering for someone on maternity leave.
I didn’t ask her to be my girlfriend. Heard her refer to herself once at a dinner, and then the next day I woke up and it was fucking everywhere. I like her, it’s fun. Felt like a heavy conversation to tell her that I wasn’t in the market for a girlfriend so I didn’t have it and now it is what it is. Second relationship I’ve been in in my life and I fell into it.
It’s good. She’s good. She’s easy. In the good way, not in the other way. It’s easy with her. And she came at a good time, even if it was a pretty unplanned arrival. I was better when she came, but actually, that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with this article The Sun ran back in September.
Magnolia at The Met, BJ back in Blighty, drunk and alone.
That was the article title.
They got me half-right. Definitely drunk, seldom alone though.
