by Mia Kayla
“Ouch.” Jordan flinched.
“It’s fine. He was never over her. It was like he was only half in with me.”
I should have trusted my gut. It’d started with innocent texts, her asking him if he still had her stuff. Their families were intertwined, and we’d see Camilla at family parties. I couldn’t get over the way he looked at her, as though they weren’t done.
“They’re coming over here,” Jordan said.
Nana pointed in my direction, and when our gazes met, Camilla and Logan waved.
And I waved back, clenching my teeth in a fake smile, my jaw locked.
“Why are they coming here?” I whispered under my breath. “I don’t want to deal with this shit right now.” I seethed, still smiling.
Logan approached, holding Camilla’s hand within his, swinging their arms between them.
“Tene.” Logan’s smile wavered.
“Hey.” Oh, God. Not today. Please. My hand fisted around the cold beer bottle, and I willed it to cool the heat rising within me.
I didn’t want to fake it in front of these people. I wanted to call Logan out for being the cheating bastard he was.
The last time we’d spoken six months ago was when I caught them in the most compromising position. I still had his toothbrush and his teddy bear that I had stolen from his bedroom, the one his grandmother had given him.
He’d asked for it back via text. I hadn’t bothered replying.
“I had no idea there was a celebration here tonight.” Logan’s voice was low, nervous.
His eyes teetered between Jordan and me. I guessed he didn’t recognize the star, given that Jordan’s baseball cap was drawn low over his eyes.
“Yeah. It’s a long time coming. Angie was ready for partner last year.” My heart beat loudly against the chambers of my chest. I couldn’t for the life of me stop picturing the last time I had seen him with her, like a bad porno playing over and over in my brain. The heat spread behind my eyes, rage brewing below the surface of my skin. I was so angry that I wanted to cry.
“Tene, the last time we saw each other—” he drawled out.
I lifted a hand, not wanting to relive the moment I could never forget—the moment he’d betrayed me. “You know what? That’s water under the bridge.” My voice shook, barely under control.
The gush of air that escaped his lungs was audible. “Thank God. I just wanted to explain—”
“No need to explain. I saw everything. Remember?” I stood and lifted the beer bottle. Taking it deep into my mouth, I tipped it back and released it with a pop, smiling blatantly at Camilla.
Her cheeks flushed red, almost as red as they had been when I walked in on them.
“Hey.” Jordan slipped off the barstool and wrapped a warm hand around my hip, pulling me close.
My whole body was wired stiff, and I almost fell backward.
“I’m Jordan, by the way.” He flipped his hat backward, showing off that beautiful, recognizable actor face.
What the … I’d thought he was going incognito.
Logan blinked, and his mouth slipped ajar. He took in a sharp breath of utter astonishment.
“And you are?”
Logan and Camilla were stunned and tongue-tied. Camilla might as well have had emoji hearts in her eyes. Starstruck was an understatement.
My shoulders eased, and I relaxed against his lean, muscled frame. The scent of cigarettes and beer and a cologne that was all masculine filled my nostrils.
Goodness, I could kiss Jordan right now.
Logan had nothing on Jordan—not his height, his build, his good looks, or his millions of dollars. My insides soared.
Let them think what they want.
“Jordan … Jordan Ryder?” Camilla asked, her voice shaky. Her trembling hand flew to her lips.
“In the flesh.” His voice was cocky, confident in a way that oozed sex appeal.
I pictured him pounding his chest like a caveman.
Camilla’s smile spread across her face, and she hopped on her toes, but Jordan’s focus was on The Ex.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.” He took a step forward and firmly shook Logan’s hand. The veins in his forearms protruded.
“Logan.” Logan motioned between Jordan and me. “So … you two …”
“I’m just using her for sex,” Jordan said, which made me want to throat-punch him.
I angled away, and the look I gave him had him pulling me in closer. Was that the only thing I could ever offer a man? Was that the first impression I always gave off?
He peered down at me with a glint of teasing in his eyes. “I’m kidding.” He nuzzled my neck, and his warm breath sent tingles down my back. “It’s just the beginning, but I’m determined to know everything about her. I’m already impressed by her independence, smitten with her beauty, and entertained by her smart mouth.”
I blinked.
Wow.
He was good.
No wonder this guy won awards.
If we were doing a scene on a set, he’d be totally believable.
He brushed my cheek with his thumb, and I sighed silently, melting into him because he was just that beautiful.
Our eyes locked for far too long until Logan cleared his throat.
“Yeah, it’s good that she’s found someone.”
His words snapped me into the present.
I gritted my teeth and flipped back to face him. Did he think I wouldn’t? “Nice seeing you, Logan.” My voice was cold and lashing. I turned on my heels, dropped my hand into Jordan’s, and stomped away.
I heard him calling after me, “Tene, I didn’t mean it that way.”
“One man’s loss is another man’s gain,” Jordan yelled back. Then, he pinched my ass, and I slapped his hand away.
“Hey, Jordan, do you think we can get an autograph?” Camilla yelled above the noise.
My heels dug into the floor. I wanted to sink into the ground, disappear, drop from the earth. Better yet, I wanted to take off my stilettos and chuck them at Logan.
“So, I guess that would be a no to the autograph.” Jordan chuckled. He hooked an arm around my neck and brought me closer.
“Don’t even think about it,” I grumbled. My feet led us back to the table where our families were congregated. “Let’s just help Nana finish that bottle of wine.”
An hour later and after a bottle of wine, we were at the bar. Logan Price was long gone and had been replaced by the People’s Sexiest Man Alive award recipient—Jordan Ryder.
Sigh.
If he was the last thing I looked at for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy woman.
My cheeks warmed, and I knew I needed to pace myself, or I’d complicate my life by sleeping with the male in front of me. And he was definitely off-limits.
Uncomplicated, detached, easy relationships. Especially after all I’d been through. That was all I could handle right now. And Jordan was choice D—none of the above.
“Aw, poor baby boy, who I can probably outdrink. Did you want me to order you a Cosmo or buy you a lemon drop shot? Let’s live on the edge today, shall we?” I sassed.
He laughed, but in the next second, he leaned into me, so close that I could smell his last cigarette. I needed one. A drag, but this time, from his mouth.
“I used to live my life on the edge. Haven’t been there in a while, but …” He licked his lips. “… I’m tempted to do it again.” His eyes combed my body, dipping lower before making it back up my neck and landing on my lips.
He was flirting, definitely flirting. And I drank it all up. All of it—his attention, his firm hand on my hip, and his scent that I could bottle up and sell for thousands on the black market.
The air sizzled; unspoken words were shared between us. His gaze was beyond intimate, and I had to tear my eyes away for a second so I could breathe, formulate my next thought. I wondered if this was natural for him like he could never turn off this heat.
I got more than my share of looks from
fine men, but it was usually the good-boy kind who were attracted to me. The ones I could tease and tame and train. Jordan seemed all bad boy and gorgeous—like my twin but in the male form—and that unnerved me.
The lull in the room was broken when “SexyBack” by Justin Timberlake burst through the speakers.
I placed my beer on the bar and stood. “Let’s dance.”
He smirked. That panty-dropping, party-stopping, pant-inducing smirk. “I don’t think you can keep up.”
Oh, boy. A challenge? Did this guy just throw a challenge in my face? Does he not know I was on the varsity poms squad in high school?
I flicked his shoulder. “You might just be a pretty face. Let’s see if you can actually dance or if I prefer you just standing there mute.”
His stare wavered between the dance floor and me. “You know what? I wouldn’t want to outdo every guy on that dance floor. Let’s sit this one out.”
“Um … no.” I grabbed his hand, ignored the electric fire that coursed through my veins at his touch, and pulled us through the crowd to the middle of the dance floor.
He wrapped one arm around my waist, pressed himself flush against my body, and then whispered in my ear, “Were you born on a farm?”
I reeled back, already smiling. “What?”
“Because you really know how to raise a cock.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. Press release: Jordan is a certified dork. “Don’t tell me you use that on those models you date. I would’ve thought you had better lines.”
“I usually don’t have to think of lines to impress the ladies.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Does that mean you’re trying to impress me?”
“Maybe.”
The rhythm of the music blasted through the speakers. The pounding of the bass shook my feet, forcing me closer to Jordan. The strobe lights flashed around us, and I swiveled my hips, shaking my body to the music. The way his body was pushed up against mine was electric. Fire and heat coursed through me, through him, through both of us.
His eyes darkened, and when his hand made its way to my hip, I knew I, the devil temptress herself, had succeeded in drawing him in.
He stepped into me, our hips and our chests in sync with the bumping beats in the background. My breathing matched his. Slow, shallow, and seductive. He angled closer, his gaze making my heart and pulse and ears pound, sending a dizzying current through my body.
He dropped his mouth to my ear. “Damn, you’re sexy.”
“Not bad.” I was talking about his line, not about how sexy I was.
A small smile touched my lips, and I turned around and slowly backed into him. With one hand pressed to my stomach, he pulled me against him, and I felt the hardness of his length thicken. I guessed I had been born on a farm.
A ball of sexual tension formed in my gut. It had been a long time since I had sex. If three months was a dry spell, I was experiencing a drought.
When his nose grazed my ear, my nipples pebbled against my halter top.
“You smell like fucking strawberries.”
I angled my head, so he could hear. “You want a taste?” A lick to sample some of my sweetness. Because every part of me wanted to taste his lips, feel his tongue against mine.
Throwing away all self-control, I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck. The sizzle between us, the electricity around us, was heightened by the closeness of our bodies and the warm breaths shared between us. His heavy-lidded eyes locked onto mine, and the world around me stood still.
Beautiful was an understatement. His blue eyes sparkled against the strobe lights flashing across the room. His face had been made to be on the big screen. His chiseled jaw and his kissable lips—the bottom lip fuller than the top, the bow shape on his upper lip, inviting women to kiss him. And that dimple on his chin, there as if to say, My lips aren’t enough; lick farther down.
When he dropped his head, I lifted my chin in response to his silent question. Closer and closer, one more centimeter and our lips would finally and blissfully meet. My eyes fell shut, and I inhaled deeply and breathed him in before—
“Hey!”
Jordan jumped back at Cade’s booming voice like he had been doused with a cold pail of water. The move was so abrupt that I nearly fell over and stumbled on my heels. Again.
If Cade was going for the scary factor, he was winning.
Cade’s lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed, zoning in on Jordan. “Hey.” The music was loud, but Cade was louder.
The crowd around us made room for him to pass as though he were Moses parting the Red Sea. Strobe lights worked the room, highlighting the planes on Cade’s face, making his features seem mean and menacing.
“I know how to throw a good party, right?” Cade’s voice heightened above the music, but there was no lightness in his features.
Jordan adjusted himself, his boner sticking out like a jumbo dog at the ballpark. “Yeah. Good party.”
In the sea of dancing bodies, we were the only ones standing utterly still.
Angie trailed behind Cade, her face transparent, mouth downturned and pouty, just like when she had been younger and would throw a tantrum. Her silent hostility was aimed toward her boyfriend.
Cade’s tone was light, but his eyes burned with annoyance, and the vein in his temple throbbed.
Jordan ran one hand through his light locks, fisting them at the top of his head. “You know what? I think I’m going to call it a night. I had a long day. Tired and all of that.”
Angie’s jaw tightened. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is my party, and I say you stay and have fun. You guys go ahead.” She motioned between us with her pointer finger, encouraging us.
We both blinked at her, unmoving, stoic—which only caused the frown on her face to deepen.
She shook her shoulders in what seemed to be a dance move. “Keep dancing, and don’t mind Cade over here.”
She tugged at his shirt, but Cade didn’t budge, didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He simply stared at Jordan with a brewing hostility.
What was his problem? Did he want to kiss Jordan instead? Anyway, I thought I needed to get Cade a shot of Calm the Hell Down.
Angie’s face scrunched up and hardened, her usual soft features vanishing. “I’m going to get another drink.” And then she stormed away, unsteady in my heels. She’d break my shoe—or worse, break her ankle—the way she stomped the heels into the ground.
Cade cocked his head, and then he focused his attention on his retreating girlfriend. “Fucking A!” He threw Jordan one aggravated look and pointed a finger in his direction. “See, it’s started already. We’re having a chat later.” Then, he stormed after my sister.
Okay … that was weird.
Jordan pinched the bridge of his nose, dropped his head, and blew out a deep breath. Then, he moved to the side of the dance floor.
“What was that about?” I asked. My eyes bounced between Cade and my sister at the bar and then to Jordan.
“Your sister overheard Cade and me talking.”
“And?”
“It was a warning.”
“About?” I lifted an eyebrow.
“Rules, per se.” He smiled and ducked his head, looking sheepish for once.
Aw, isn’t he cute?
“Get on with it,” I prodded, hands on my hips.
“His exact words were, ‘You’d better not fuck Angie’s sister, or I’ll fuck up your face.’ And I like my face. I’ve been told I have a good one. And this face …” He pointed to said beautiful actor face. “… pays the bills.” Jordan stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact. “It’s more than that, but I’d rather not go into it.” When his gaze met mine again, his tone turned serious. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t be flirting … not with you.”
I wanted to tell him that it was a little late for that, given I’d felt his boner pushing against his jeans.
Clearly, he intended to follow the rules, like a good brother. I tipped my ch
in up, refusing to show my disappointment because, clearly, there was an attraction here. Coloring within the friendly lines was probably for the best because we wouldn’t want to complicate things by screwing.
“Well, if you’re following the rules, we must do so while drinking. Otherwise, where’s the fun in that?”
He tilted his head, assessing me. Then, after a beat, he tipped his chin toward the bar. “After you, my lady.”
I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the bar, where we downed more beverages.
And a-drinking we shall go.
Our drinking-fest was interrupted by a two-foot cake topped with sparklers as candles. The music died down, and Jordan and I moved closer to the center of the room, by our families. When the DJ gave Cade the microphone, he tapped it twice, and the crowd quieted to a hush. From Cade’s devastating grin and the way he gazed at my sister, I knew they had made up from their spat.
Part of me wondered if this was it … if this was the moment where he got on bended knee and proposed. He’d have told me, wouldn’t he? I mean, I’d have helped him pick out the ring, right?
Jordan bumped his shoulder against mine. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to do it now. I know when and how.”
My face scrunched. “And why don’t I know?”
“Oh, you will. It’s going to be a family event.”
People crowded around, glasses in their hands, eyes intent on Cade.
“I just want to thank everyone here for coming. For Angie, she’s all about celebrations. She makes it big and grand for everyone else. I don’t know if you know this little tidbit about her, but she bakes each of her family members a cake on their birthdays.” His eyes shone with pride, and a giddiness a man of his stature never usually showed pushed through. “And for once, I wanted to make this party just for her. Just because. I mean, it’s a celebration for her promotion. But … really, a celebration of her.”
He brought her in by her waist and angled her toward the sparklers lighting up the cake. The illumination highlighted the unshed tears in her eyes.
When he took her hand in his, my heart bubbled with happiness for my sister. Right now, at this moment, they were the epitome of true love. If I captured this on camera, it could be a cover on one of those romance novels.
