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Jordan’s gaze on me doesn’t leave mine. An intimacy I’ve never shared with anyone before. It encompasses everything ounce of love I’m feeling in the way he’s looking at me. Like he can read what’s on my heart, what’s in my head, what’s in my soul.
I feel like I've taken all I can handle, but Jordan pushes me one last time to the edge. He thrusts in deep, and I feel him tense over me. I slip my hands around him and hold him close to me. My lips find his ear and whisper the words I know he wants to hear and I want to say.
“I love you.”
7
JORDAN
Bridget and I spend the rest of the day in bed. I can’t get enough of her, but eventually, she has to leave for a bit to catch up with her friends in the bridal party. We managed to get a charger for her phone, and once it came back to life, the messages started pouring in.
“Stay,” I whisper against her lips when she leans down to kiss me before heading out.
“I wish I could, but I told the girls I would meet up with them. Veronica kept saying something about needing to tell me something about what happened to everyone last night, but she wouldn’t tell me unless it was in person.”
“Sounds ominous,” I joke. “At least we know that no one’s story will beat yours getting arrested and falling in love all in one night.”
Bridget laughs. “I know, right?”
I managed to steal a few more kisses from her before she made her escape, promising to call me later and see what I was doing.
I'm searching through the contents of the mini-fridge when there's a knock at the door.
“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” I ask as I open the door.
A fist strikes me in the cheek before I can even register who is on the other side of the door.
“That’s for stealing my fiancé,” Michael says.
I swing back, happy to feel and hear the cartilage crack in his nose. “And that’s for cheating on her.”
Michael holds his nose. “I think you broke it.”
“Don’t sucker punch me then,” I say, stepping back to let him in.
I know we are both done hitting one another. When we were kids, we would always get that one last punch in before the both of us were done. And apparently, the same rules still apply.
"I'm not staying," he says when I grab a clean hand towel from the bathroom and hand it to him. "Is she here?"
“No.”
“Good. Probably better this way.”
“What do you want, Michael?” I ask, crossing my arms.
He takes a deep breath like he's trying to psych himself up for what he's about to say.
“I fucked up. And I’m not here to try and win her back. But I just want to know that I've been thinking a lot over the last few hours, and I came to the realization that I'm not the man or the brother I wanted to be."
“What do you mean?”
“I'm selfish, and I didn't think about how my actions would hurt others. You always had everything come so easily to you. And it killed me that I would never measure up, so I took the one thing that I knew would hurt you, and I'm sorry."
“I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”
He removes the towel from his nose and holds up his hands to me. “I’m not expecting anything from you. I just wanted to stop by and tell you that I’m sorry.” He sighs again. “I’m going to find the right words to apologize to Bridget too, but I’m not sure I’m ready just yet.”
“She’s going to be fine,” I say. “I’m going to make sure of it.”
