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“We need to do more of this and less of the snarky comments.” He looks at me as he pulls himself together.
“Agreed,” I get out as I’m sucking in air, also trying to stop myself from peeing my pants.
“Friends?” He sticks out his hand to me.
“Friends.” I shake his hand. “Until you piss me off again. So, this should last what, an hour?” Which starts us off laughing again as the doors part, and my fleeting moment of calm happiness disappears when I look out at the view. Not the one outside but of Sasha standing in the foyer with another woman I don’t know.
“You’re here,” I whisper to myself, and I feel Jordan’s hand on the curve of my back. I know he is trying to calm me, knowing that I have totally just died on the inside.
Standing in front of me is a slender woman with amazing long legs to die for. The curves on her body are perfect and in the exact proportion for the textbook model figure we’ve all come to expect on ads. The tight little shorts leave nothing to the imagination and neither does the off-the-shoulder crop top the shows off her perfect tits. And when I say perfect, I mean like the ones that women take the picture of to the cosmetic surgeon and say, “I want ones like this, please.” Seriously, she is gorgeous, and I can see what Jordan sees in her. Long blonde hair, stunning blue eyes, and lips that are soft and pouty. With her standing in front of me, I can’t even manage to get a word out because I am so in awe, and a big part of me is jealous of everything she has, including Jordan.
“Here they are.” Sasha starts toward us as I feel Jordan pushing me forward so we are actually out of the elevator. “Hi, Natalie, I’m so glad to finally meet you. Jordan talks about you so much I feel like I already know you. This is my good friend Dani who is also my personal assistant, trainer, and chef. Basically, my boss.” They both start to laugh and I’m still standing frozen in the spot Jordan pushed me to.
“Hey, ladies. This is my Nat that you’ve heard so much about. Here to save the day.” I know he’s trying to keep it light.
“Hello, nice to meet you,” is all I get out. Both ladies rush forward to hug me, and I don’t know what else to say or do.
Jordan can sense I’m still freaking out, so he takes the reins.
“It’s been a long day, so why don’t I show you to your room so you can settle in. Then we can have a nightcap and chat before we hit the bed for the night.” It’s then I remember my bag which was in the elevator. I had stubbornly insisted on carrying it from the car because I was still pissed at Jordan.
“My bag?” I can’t even manage big sentences.
“I’ve got it. I’ve got you.” It means more than he realized. “Let’s head up the stairs here and I’ll show you. Sash, can you get some food and drinks organized?” His hand is still burning my skin through my shirt, but it’s a good burn. One that tells me he won’t leave me on my own just yet.
The girls must think I’m merely a Muppet, standing there, not even really talking or interacting with them. Walking down the hallway of the apartment is like I had imagined. Minimalistic, but classy. Polished cement floors all through what I’ve seen so far. The odd piece of modern art on the walls as we walk past a few rooms that look like guest rooms, plus a closed door at the top of the stairs. Jordan stops outside a door on the left side of the hallway.
“This is my room if you ever need me.” For a split second I see vulnerability in his eyes, but in a flash, it’s gone.
Looking through the door, I’m a little surprised. It’s a very tidy room. Great, not only is Sasha perfect, she is also a neat freak. Not like my room, which is clean but quite often an organized chaos. Which is how Jordan saw it, and he must have cringed. I hope he didn’t share that with her.
The movement of Jordan out the corner of my eye draws my attention back to him.
“This will be your room while you’re here.” His hand motions to the door across from his room.
Great, that’s just fucking perfect. So close I can hear every noise. Kill me now.
“Thanks. It looks lovely and homely.” I sound like a seventy-year-old grandmother talking.
“There is your own bathroom as well, so you should have everything you need in there. Please speak up if you’re missing anything.” Carrying my small bag into the room, he places it near the bed and steps away. “I’ll give you time to unpack. Then come back downstairs, okay?”
I think I’ve seen all the different sides of Jordan today. The confident star, the brotherly best friend, the sizzling controlling man that affects me more than I should allow, and the vulnerable one standing in front of me. Who knew that there was so much more to Jordan, the guy I fell in love with all those years ago?
“Sure, won’t be long. Not like I have much to unpack. Someone didn’t give me much time.” My little laugh gives him a smile. Although I’m still extremely uncomfortable here, I can’t keep punishing him for needing a friend.
Walking out of the room, his stopping in the doorway has me looking up from my bag.
“Thanks for coming here, Nat. It means more to me than you realize.” With that he turns again and is gone. Leaving me standing in the center of this luxurious room and not a clue how to get through the time I’m about to spend here.
Taking a big deep slow breath, unzipping my bag, the first thing I pull out is his jersey and the lake blanket. I look for a spot to hide them. I don’t even know why I brought them with me, but at the last minute, I knew I couldn’t leave without them. Instead of unpacking, I just sit and take it all in for a few minutes.
“You can do this. Don’t be a pathetic mouse. You are stronger than that,” I whisper to myself as I’m walking back down the stairs. I slow for a moment trying to just breathe.
I can hear their voices coming from the living room that I saw when I stood in the foyer and can just see the edge of now.
“Oh, Nat,” Sasha calls out to me. Damn. I can’t hide any longer. “Come and sit with me and tell me all the deep dark stupid secrets you know about Jordan. He never tells me the bad stuff, just that he was a perfect teenager and never put a foot out of line. Which I know is utter crap.” For a woman I have tried to hate for so long, she’s making it really hard on me to keep up that thought. She’s trying so hard to make me feel at home. Why does she have to be so nice? It makes it hard to dislike her.
“Don’t you dare spill my secrets, Nat. Friends look after friends, right?” he says, patting the couch next to him so I’ll join his camp. “What can I get you to drink? There’s champagne, beer, or sparkling water.” I really want to say anything alcoholic that will get me through tonight, but I can’t go down that road, that’s for sure.
