by Mia Kayla
An older couple laughed when we passed them. Great, we were comic relief to the patrons, and right now, this was anything but funny.
Chapter 18
Jordan ushered us past his bodyguard, waiting by his SUV and down the block into the closest alley. He lightly placed me on the ground, but his firm grip on my waist was anything but light.
After I flattened my hair and straighten my suit, he tightened his hold on me, his body flush against mine. I felt his erection against my thigh.
“Where were we?”
His breath was warm against my cheek, and if I didn’t have any self-control, my panties would slip to the ground and disappear.
“Do-over?” he whispered.
Goodness, I wanted him. Just the scent of him, the feel of his body pressed against mine, had my hormones running rampant.
He kissed my cheek and then dropped his head to my neck, dragging his thick, warm tongue along my collarbone. My knees just about gave out, and I let out an audible sigh.
“I’ve got a talented tongue. Maybe I’ll make you come that way.”
My mind was warring with my body. Usually, I gave in to my wants and what my body needed even though I would suffer the consequences later, but not today, not when everything screamed for me to stop. Not when my body wasn’t the only thing on the line. Now, it was a fragile heart. I had more to lose.
All I’d originally wanted was to ride a Ryder, to get him out of my system, but I knew that was the last thing I could do now because one more ride on the Ryder mobile would most likely cost me my heart.
My hands glided up his hard chest. “We can’t. I can’t.”
He peered down at me with a look of confusion, as though he was trying to figure me out. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t the sex I was afraid of. I knew we’d be explosive if I just let go. It was the intimacy, the way he made me feel beyond the physical. The bigger problem was, I liked him. Not bang him and leave him like him, but bang him and possibly keep him like him. And that meant trouble.
He looked at me as though he really saw me, but then how could he when Candice’s name was forever etched into his skin?
It’s an illusion, Tene, a messed-up illusion because he only sees her.
Ignoring my words, he slid his hand to the back of my neck and angled me toward him, where he kissed me sensually.
His kisses were heaven and hell, sweetness and sex, war, and peace. Just pure, atomic explosion.
It took every ounce of my self-control to pull away from him. “Jordan …” I breathed. “Stop.”
“Let’s start over.” He pulled back and smiled his devilish grin. He stuck his tongue out and rolled it. “I’ve got some moves.”
I shook my head. We couldn’t go there. Not if I wanted to stay intact. I pressed my back against the wall of the building, feeling the roughness of the bricks beneath my fingertips. His bodyguard stood stoic just a short distance away, at the end of the alley.
I gave Jordan one forceful push and disentangled myself from his hold. “It’s a bad idea.”
He huffed, and confusion reigned in the sea of blue staring back at me. “Usually, girls are throwing themselves at me, wanting something from me, but with you … the girl I like, you want nothing to do with me.” He ran one aggravated hand through his hair and linked his hands behind his head. “This is worse than a blow to the ego. This is a swift blow to the fucking heart.”
I couldn’t bear to look at him. I wanted The End, not a Do-Over.
He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes tormented. “Were you not into it? I’m not dumb, Tene. I knew you were into it. Your body was ready. You felt so good.”
I couldn’t do that to him, lie to him and bruise his ego any further. It wasn’t fair.
“It was good.” Explosive. I bit my lip, my gaze falling to the concrete to keep myself steady, to remind myself that even though my equilibrium was shot, I was standing on solid ground.
He stepped into me, his black dress shoes toe to toe with my heels. He gripped my chin and forced me to meet his eyes. There was a softness in his stare, drawing me in. “What’s the matter then?” His eyebrows knitted together, and he searched my face for an answer.
Slowly, I pulled his hand down. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” There was no bite in his voice, just an underlying sadness. His thumb grazed my cheek, so lightly, so sweetly, so Jordan. “I’ll try harder,” he said, almost begging me.
Sigh.
“That’s not it.”
“Then, what is it, baby?”
His word of endearment broke me.
“Is that what you called her too?” I whispered. I swallowed back the shake in my voice and dimmed the vulnerable look in my eye. “You’re not over her. I know that the ink on the upper left side of your chest, right by your heart, is her name. It’s all of it rolled into the fact that you, Jordan Ryder, are not over your dead girlfriend, and I cannot and will not be second best to anyone.”
I searched his face, waiting and wanting him to deny it. Deny it for me, for us, for some future I’d made up in my head.
But he didn’t. His eyes widened, and he didn’t say a word. And so, I pushed past him and never looked back.
He didn’t call my name or chase me down the alley because it was the truth. I was not going to compete with a ghost when I knew who would win in the end. And it wouldn’t be me.
Chapter 19
My nerves were shot. An hour later, I was pacing back and forth in my enormous condo, not knowing what to do. Eat first? Am I hungry? Shower? But it’s too early.
This man had flipped my axis, turned things around until I felt so out of control that I didn’t know what to do next, and even worse, I didn’t know who I was anymore.
The banging on the door wouldn’t relent, and I knew it could only be one person because I’d be doing the same thing if I’d been shut down.
I opened the door, and Jordan walked right in like he owned the joint with two bags of something greasy and smelling oh-so yummy.
“What are you doing here?” My tone was low, defeated, tired of fighting.
“I’m feeding you because you’re hangry, and we’ve got a few things to sort out.”
By the firm line of his jaw and his alert gaze, I knew he wasn’t leaving even if I kicked him out.
I grabbed the food from his hands and placed it on the kitchen island. After getting plates from my overhead cupboard, I tore through the bags and placed what looked like disheveled gyros and fries on the plates.
His eyes burned through me as I moved across the kitchen. I didn’t know what was worse, the feeling of total discombobulation when his eyes were on me or the agony when they weren’t.
I was absolutely going insane. In-freaking-sane.
After I slammed the plates on the counter, he reached for my wrist. “About what you said earlier …”
“No, it’s fine.” I wasn’t ready to talk. “Let’s eat.” I plopped on the stool and focused on the gyros in front of me. My stomach flipped and flopped, the queasy feeling settling in my gut. The last thing I wanted to do was eat, but I’d do anything to keep from talking about his dead girlfriend. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.
“Tene,” he said, his look pensive, cautious even. “Baby … just tell me what’s the matter.”
I slammed the gyro on the plate, tzatziki getting on the counter.
“Everything’s the matter.” I stood and took a good healthy step away from him. “I’m going crazy. My life feels out of control. I don’t know which way is up or down. I can’t make a decision to save my life. I don’t know what to do next—eat, shower, sleep. I’ve never …” I released a heavy breath and paced the room to my couch, where he followed. “I’ve never, ever felt as out of control as I have recently.” And it has everything to do with you. But I left that bit out.
I had officially jumped off the cuckoo train.
“Shit,” I breathed, realizing that everything in my head had just spilled out like a bad ca
se of diarrhea of the mouth. “Forget it.”
He reached for my hand, and my fingers trembled within his.
Great. Now, he knew how he unnerved me.
My lips pinched together, and I rubbed at my brow, knowing I couldn’t be vulnerable in front of him. It wasn’t in my nature. I was the firstborn in my family. Strong. Resilient. Fierce. Never showing vulnerability.
The facade of a put-together woman, my shell, prevented me from getting hurt. It was what I showed my mother, what I showed the world.
The air from my air conditioner blasted in the background, and I welcomed the noise to dim the chaos in my head and the cold to dim the heat rising within me.
His facial features softened, and he leaned into me. “Everything you just said is exactly how I’m feeling.”
He brought my fist to his lips, and when I tried to extract myself from his grasp, he placed another hand on top of both of mine, holding me in my spot with his hands, his eyes, the emotion pouring out of him.
“I’ve been going crazy, and I know it has everything to do with you,” he whispered. He stepped into me and placed a light hand on my hip. “All that noise in my head … it disappears when I’m with you.”
As though he couldn’t stand the distance between us, he sat on the couch and pulled me onto his lap. And even though I should push him away, I didn’t resist because, in the short time we’d known each other, I realized one thing: Jordan was my weakness.
The house could be burning down, and even if my gut and mind screamed for me to leave, if he asked me to stay, I’d stay.
My gaze flicked downward. “What if I told you, the noise in my head only escalates when I’m with you?” Like a mariachi band was playing so loud that my brain might combust.
He smiled. “I’d tell you I know why that is. It’s because you aren’t giving in to us yet because, if you did, I swear, that noise would settle. It’d disappear.” He held both of my hands in his, leaning in. His eyes so certain, his voice full of conviction.
But how could he be so sure? And what about her?
“Let me explain.” His thumbs brushed softly on top of my hand.
Three words that I’d heard before—from Logan, from someone who’d supposedly been in love with me. There had been nothing to explain when I caught her mouth on his dick in broad daylight. I’d forever remember the blow to my heart, the ultimate betrayal of not knowing.
“I just need a minute.” I needed more than a minute. I needed an hour, a day, an eternity.
I stared at our intertwined hands, my pretty pink manicure perfectly done. Probably the only perfect thing in my life.
“Tell me. Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged.
I swallowed. He ducked into my line of sight, but there was no way I could look at him because he’d read all the vulnerability written on my face.
“Are you still in love with her?” It slipped out before I could stop it; before I could sugarcoat it; before I could lie and tell him that I didn’t care. You would think by saying it out loud that my fears would dim, but it only heightened them.
His face crumbled. He dropped my hand and straightened. After a slow breath, he ran one shaky hand through his hair.
The air choked my lungs as though thick black smoke was coming through the vents.
No words needed to be spoken to understand his answer. He wasn’t over her.
Ice flowed through my veins, a direct link to my heart, freezing all the arteries. “You don’t owe me anything, Jordan. You don’t have to try to explain. It’s none of my business.”
I stood, needing to leave. Once again, on the verge of walking out of my own condo.
“Yes, I love her … loved her.”
The words, the way they stuttered out of his mouth, were like a sledgehammer to my chest. It was his truth, but it didn’t hurt any less. He loved her, and it gutted me.
I didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
“I’m going to go … or maybe you should leave.” I refused to run from my own place again. This was supposed to be my sanctuary.
“I love her,” he said firmly, making me listen. “But I’m not in love with her …”
Unable to look him in the eye, unable to get my emotions in check, unable to hear his lies, I stood from the couch, and my bare feet padded against the hardwood as I walked away.
He erased the gap between us and gripped my wrist, stilling me, holding me in my spot. “I’m not in love with her anymore because … I feel things for you, Christene.”
I closed my eyes, and my body betrayed me, reveling in the closeness of him.
His strong hands gripped my arms, and then he turned me to face him. “Did you hear what I said?”
I closed my eyes, eyebrows wrinkled, and dipped my chin to my chest. An internal war battled in me, one deep in my soul, between my strong-willed mind and my weak, passionate heart. “I want to believe you.”
“Then, believe me.” He tipped up my chin, his steely-blue eyes locking with my brown ones. “Believe me because it’s true.”
He led us back to the couch, our food and my appetite long forgotten. “You don’t know my brother Wyatt as well as you know Cade.” His voice softened as though he recalled a memory. “He’s quiet and reserved, and he internalizes a lot. But if I ever need advice or want the truth, he’s the one I go to.”
He leaned in, and our hands fell between us, drawing my focus.
“You have to understand where I came from to understand who I am today.” His stare became distant, his eyes clouding over with memories. “My mother died from an overdose …”
My eyes flicked upward. I hadn’t been ready for that. Automatically, my hand tightened around his, and my chest ached for his history, for his family.
“My father was in prison … and probably still is. I went from house to house, causing worse trouble than the last place I was at.” He released one shaky breath that made his entire body tremble. “There was no doubt where my path was headed. I knew I would be dead or in prison before I graduated high school. And then I met the Ryders.” A small smile touched his lips. “I was still the badass I always was until … until Candice put me in my place.”
He was allowed to have a history. It made him who he was. Curiosity clamped my mouth shut, and I was determined to hear him out.
“She softened me, made me believe life was worth living, and self-destruction was not an option.”
He poured out his soul, and slowly but surely, I understood him.
Candice Ryder had saved him. She had shown him love and compassion and given him a reason to live. And in my heart and the deepest part of me, I knew that I could never compete with that. At that moment, that brief moment when he was revealing his past, vulnerability seeping out every ounce of him, my heart broke, cracked in two because who could go against the woman who had made his life worth living?
“She made me believe in the future, a future with love and happiness and forever.”
The hurt heightened, and I swallowed a lump in the back of my throat.
“I miss her every day …”
Tears almost burst from my eyes, threatening to spill over from his history, from the story of his long-lost love, the story of a future he never got, the future I would never get.
“I can’t … Jordan. I just can’t.” As selfish as it sounded, I couldn’t hear any more.
“I miss her every day, but the only time … the only time I ever forget her is when I’m with you.” His eyes were begging me to understand. “For years, all I’ve tried to do is dim this ache in my chest from her absence. First with alcohol, then with women, and now with work. Nothing I did would erase the loss of her.” He brushed his knuckles on my cheek, and I felt it everywhere. “Until you.” He paused. “Until you, Christene.”
Then, he smiled a beautiful smile, one that reached his eyes. “I felt like I was cheating. Because, all of a sudden, I stopped feeling miserable. It’s been years, and I was used to the pain and feeling guilty. A
nd for a brief moment, I felt bad for feeling happy.” He laughed. “Which Wyatt made me realize was just plain stupid. It’s dumb to think I’m dishonoring her by being happy.
“I know we haven’t known each other long, but I want to be with you, Christene.” He held my chin between his fingertips, and I leaned into his touch. “We’re going crazy, but the solution is obvious because we’re only going crazy when we’re apart.”
He leaned in to kiss me, and I let him because I wanted to, because I couldn’t deny myself any longer.
And just like every time our lips met before, a shock of energy surged through my body, stopping right by my heart.
“Crazy is not kissing you.” He flicked his tongue over the opening of my lips. Grabbing my waist, he stood up and lifted me until my legs wrapped around him. “Crazy is not doing the things I want to do to you, to your body.” He walked us back to my bedroom, peppering kisses down my neck and nibbling on my earlobe. “Crazy is not spending every waking second with you because I want to, need to.”
He gently guided me on my back, where I was staring up at him and his Adonis body. He lifted the back of his shirt, where ink spanned the upper part of most of his body. I closed my eyes, afraid to look, terrified that it would ruin the moment.
“Crazy would be not giving you an orgasm—or worse, you faking it.” A deep, masculine chuckle made his chest rumble. “But, I’m about to rectify that right now.”
He peeled off my clothes one by one, starting with my skirt. Then, after trailing kisses up my stomach and to my neck, he slowly and seductively unclasped each and every button of my blouse until I was naked for his taking. “This is my do-over.”
Chapter 20
The clock on my dresser said four thirty-five as I lay on Jordan’s hard, muscled chest. The scent of passion lingered in the air. Talk about mind-blowing, spine tingling, wall-shaking sex.
My body was bone-tired, but my mind … it was wired with random thoughts. Random thoughts of us.
