by Casey Diam
Jordan swallowed as she tried to find the right words. “He was shot. He didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”
It broke her heart to see a tear slide down Adrianna’s cheek. Moving to the other side of the table, she and Sam sandwiched Adrianna into a tight hug. And to think Adrianna had known the guy for less than a month. What about Brandon? How must he be feeling? Her heart ached, thinking back to the night he’d come to her for comfort, the night she’d turned him away when he needed her—all because of some stupid crap she saw online.
“I didn’t want him to go, and he didn’t want to either, especially because of that stupid break from each other thing we’d decided on.” Adrianna sniffled. “I need to go home. I need to be alone. I can’t—”
Samantha drove Adrianna home, leaving Jordan to sit in her car for a few minutes, thinking. Brandon had said he would be studying, but she called him anyway. She had to see him.
His house sat on a hill, forty minutes away from downtown L.A.
She called him again when she reached the steel gates, like he’d instructed her to. They opened up to a driveway that narrowed uphill to a captivating yet massive house for a single guy. Floor-to-ceiling windows walled the front, revealing a living and dining area. The outside lighting at the corners of the building, together with the light extending from the inside, distracted her from Brandon, who stood waiting to meet her in a white T-shirt and sweatpants.
“Hey, is everything okay?” he asked as she stepped out of her car. “I know I said I missed you, but—”
She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “I’m sorry for not being there for you when you came to me.”
“No need to apologize, silly. Is that why you came here? You might not understand me, Jordan, but believe it or not, I understand you. That being said, I thought you were out with your friends. And I know you’re not here for a nightcap. So, what’s going on?”
He was warm and smelled like some tantalizing male body wash. She let her hands fall from him, no matter how good it felt to be in his arms again.
“You wish you understood me. I assure you, I’m not like most women.”
“I know.” He laughed. “You’re worse, but I get you.”
Jordan smiled as she gave his arm a playful thump. “You are a horrible person. This is why I don’t like you. Is this what I’ll have to deal with in this friendship now? You reminding me how awful I am?”
“Maybe,” he snickered. “I can’t make any promises.”
“Unbelievable!” She shook her head. “Anyway, back to why I’m here. Adrianna and Damian were hooking up. They met that day we ran into each other at the movie theater . . .”
She stopped talking as something horrible crossed her mind. What if Brandon had gone out with Damian that night, instead of with her, and something had happened to him? At the sound of a loud exhale from Brandon, she took a deep breath and reassured herself, he’s still here.
“Damn, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I’m guessing she just found out? Where is she?”
“She wanted to be by herself. But for the first time, I think she’d met someone she connected with. I can tell she’s heartbroken. I’ve never seen her like that.” Jordan frowned. “I’m not good at dealing with pain anymore. I don’t know how to—or what to do.”
“Everyone deals with things differently. You just have to listen to what she wants to share. Since you’re here, I could show you how we’re dealing with it right now. Come on, Andrew and James are inside. I don’t think you’ve met James—he’s Damian’s cousin. The studying thing wasn’t working, so I called them over.” Brandon took her hand and led her onto the porch. “Watch your step. You can’t go falling for me again.”
Right, she thought as the warmth from his hand holding hers spread to the rest of her body.
After passing through the foyer, she spotted Andrew sitting on a large, modern, sectional sofa, with a muscular man she assumed was James. His skin was darker than Damian’s, and he was out of shape, but his facial features bore some resemblance.
“Andrew, remember Jordan? And James, I don’t think you’ve met her.”
Jordan smiled, a little self-conscious about meeting more of Brandon’s friends. “Hey, Andrew. Nice to meet you, James. So, what are you guys up to?”
“Chilling and reminiscing about the good times—drinking beer, trying not to be too sad, you know?” James said.
“Sit down. Get comfortable,” Brandon said, stretching out on the sofa next to Andrew.
She sat in a recliner across from James, letting out a yelp as the chair moved into its fully reclined position, taking her with it. Her tight bandage dress that stopped above her knees was not helping one bit as she fought to sit up. Brandon and his friends laughed so hard they almost fell out of their seats. Regaining her composure, she used her ab muscles to pull herself up.
“Jordan, what was that?” Brandon cackled.
“Nothing, just dominating this chair.” Jordan blushed.
“Oh, I see. It looked like the other way around from here.” Brandon’s face grew serious. “I should have told you, that chair is haunted. It was Damian’s chair.”
The chair started to move back to the upward sitting position, and she jumped out of it.
“Dude, stop fucking with her. Somehow I wonder why you’re single,” Andrew said, snatching a small remote control from Brandon’s hand. “Heads up, Jordan,” he added, tossing the remote to her.
“Do you want a beer?” James asked her.
“Ah, sure,” Jordan answered.
James stood, but Brandon cut in. “She doesn’t drink beer. You don’t drink beer,” he accused.
“You don’t know that,” Jordan shot back.
“Fine. Have some of mine?” Brandon dared, handing her his bottle.
Jordan took it and drank for five seconds, veiling the bitter aftertaste that made her jaw clench. “That was horrible,” she said, sticking her tongue out. “Here.”
“Damn, you were about to be my favorite girl,” James said, sitting back down.
“Grown-man things,” Brandon joked. “Come on, I know what you like.”
He knows what I like. She snubbed the increasing butterflies to admire his tasteful décor.
“Your house is beautiful,” she said as her heels echoed on the hardwood floor.
“You’re beautiful,” Brandon responded.
“How much have you had to drink?” Jordan smiled, noticing that he had the same wine as they drank at her house. She shouldn’t think anything of it, but still.
“Not much. This wine grew on me, by the way,” he said, handing her the glass. “Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour. Starting with the kitchen . . .” He extended his hand out over his sleek, masculine kitchen with stainless-steel appliances and a black granite countertop. Black, white, and gray tiles covered the backsplash and extended to the gray cabinets, where the microwave and oven were mounted.
Four chrome and black swivel chairs sat around the breakfast bar she leaned on. For some reason, her thoughts drifted to being naked on top of it before the unpleasant thought of Brandon having sex on it with other girls eradicated her fantasy.
She turned to where Andrew and James were talking at the opposite end of the room, but after a moment, Brandon walked her around a corner and pointed out a dining and an additional living area.
“And here we have bedroom one.”
The fundamental bed, dresser, and nightstand decorated each bedroom they passed. After the third one, she stepped into his office, which had the same contemporary look as the rest of the house.
She took note of the two large bookshelves. “You read a lot?”
“I do. It’s a boost to my ego when I know more than my colleagues.”
Jordan fought a smile. “From experience, I would say your ego is fine, Mr. Kuvat.”
“Funny, I hate when people address me like I’m my father. But when you say it . . . it sounds like you’re flirting with me—Mrs. Kuvat,” he said, opening an
other door. “This is a guest bedroom.”
Jordan stopped moving. Mrs. Kuvat.
He turned with a smug smile. “I figure since you don’t like to be called by your last name, I would improvise, but oddly . . . Mrs. Kuvat does seem fitting.”
Now all she could think about was what life with Brandon would be like as Mrs. Kuvat. “How much did you drink? You can’t flirt with me, remember? Friends only.”
“I do remember, but you flirted first.”
This guest room had a different feel to it, something intense and distinctive. A colorful, abstract picture on the wall in a black frame highlighted the adorned, cream-and-black room.
“This is different than the rest of the rooms,” Jordan said, focusing her attention on the recessed lighting in the ceiling. “It’s incredible. You couldn’t have designed this by yourself.”
“I happen to have very good taste, Jordan. I do own a few properties. However, I have two designers with whom I work closely for a reason. Nothing is here that I didn’t hand-pick myself, including you.” He grinned and inhaled. “Anyway, I do like things of this nature. Anything that has to do with renovating, architecture, or design, I’m all for.”
“I’ve known you for a month, and I didn’t know this side of you. There’s so much more to you than you told me. Why is that?” she asked, anticipating a look into his bedroom and wondering if it would reveal more about him. Dammit, why was she so interested in knowing more about him?
“Because everyone usually knows who I am. You know, public knowledge on the Internet. But I was glad when I realized you didn’t know, and I knew you didn’t by the genuine innocence in your eyes. So I left it there because it was nice pretending to be . . . I don’t know, good—normal for a change.”
Clutching her stomach at his pure honesty, she drank some of the wine she’d been touring with, then spoke softly as they walked to the opposite side of the house. “So I made it easier for you to deceive me? Wow, you’re right, Brandon Kuvat. Being friends is better.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. Well, shit! It sort of is, but not really. I just meant it was nice for a change to win someone over on my own, rather than you knowing everything about me upfront. Everyone judges me from what they find online, which also means a lot of people take advantage because they know I have money. It’s always hard to tell who genuinely likes you when money is the first thing they discover about you.” He pointed inside a home theater setup with black leather recliners, and as he turned to her, his shoulders drooped. “By the way, in case you don’t already know, I own a private jet and also Sky Fast with my dad. Now you know everything everyone else knows.”
She actually hadn’t been aware of his wealth until he’d mentioned it to her at her apartment. And after that, she’d been too pissed off about his Facebook page to care about anything else. Now she realized he had his own jet but had flown coach with her, for her. Again, she really shouldn’t be thinking so much of it, but wow.
“So, you’re saying we didn’t have to fly coach.”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
Jordan smiled. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For flying coach with me.”
“That’s all you got out of that?” His uncertain tone and rapidly blinking eyes made the revelation that much better.
“It’s the only thing that mattered.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. A shy smile she’d never seen on him took over his features, stealing the very air from her lungs, but he distracted her from it just as quickly when he pointed to the ceiling.
“Cool, huh?”
Square acoustic panels with blue LED lights and fiber optic effects covered the ceiling in the theater room. As he closed the door and dimmed the lights, they stood in a galaxy, surrounded by stars. It was like the inside of the limo, except this was his house.
“Oh my gosh,” Jordan breathed, looking around. She needed his designer for her dream boutique.
“I know what you’re thinking—you’re ready to see my bedroom,” he said, opening the door.
“Actually, I was thinking I might need to hire your designer.”
“Oh yeah? Well, prepare to have your ovaries melt in my bedroom.”
She laughed. “Oh, sure. Where all the magic happens, right?”
Shades of tan, brown, and beige covered most of his bedroom, contrasting with the giant black platform bed centered against a wall with matching nightstands.
“The only magic that happens in here is sleep. As you can see, there’s no TV or computer. This is where I relax.”
“Uh, yeah, right! A California king bed and no magic? Even I would be having nonstop sex if I had a bed like that,” Jordan remarked, turning to see Brandon giving her a look. Crap, I thought the room was going to melt my ovaries, not him.
A sigh left her lips. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Look at me like that.”
He smirked. “Like what?”
Brandon watched Jordan as she admired the double-sided fireplace in the wall separating the bedroom and bath. Two sinks were mounted in the quartz countertop to the right, and a large, glass-enclosed shower stood in the back. The cream floor tiles had splashes of light brown that coordinated with his bedroom’s décor. And the accent chair next to the oversized bath served exclusively as a place for sitting and watching girls get themselves off, especially when he was lucky enough to have two for the night.
But that scene didn’t do anything for him compared to the new fantasies popping up since he’d started this tour with Jordan. He’d been keeping a mental checklist of all the places he wanted to fuck her, including right where she stood by the sink.
“It’s beautiful and enormous,” she said, turning to face him. He dragged his eyes up to her face, away from the nice curve of her ass in the white dress hugging her hips.
“Yep, that’s definitely what she said.”
Jordan hurried out of the bathroom. “You’re such an idiot.”
“That was funny. Come on!”
“Whatever. And really, the neatness of everything would be impressive for a guy, but there’s no doubt you have a housekeeper.”
“True. But in my defense, she only comes once a week.” Which was yesterday, but Jordan didn’t need to know that. “Do you want to go see what the guys are up to, or do you want to know where all the magic happens? And I mean all the magic.”
“I’m scared to say yes, but now I’m curious.”
“Guestroom.” He grinned.
“In your guestroom? Seriously? Now I know where never to sleep if I sleep over.” She crinkled her nose. “You’re disgusting.”
“I know, but on a good note, you’re still planning to sleep over.” He winked, and she rolled her eyes.
“Well, this is basically the house,” he said as they returned to the living room. “The pool and Jacuzzi are in the backyard. Make yourself comfortable.”
“How was the tour, Jordan?” Andrew asked.
“Good. It’s beautiful here,” she answered, taking a seat on the sofa sectional.
He smiled as he thought about the reclining chair stunt he’d pulled earlier. Jordan would probably never sit in that chair again, unless . . . checklisted. The twentieth place he wanted to fuck her.
“Hey, did you guys ever hear Damian talk about a girl he’d met recently?” Brandon asked after he grabbed a beer and plopped down next to Jordan.
“You know Damian always went into the dirty details before anything else. So you’ll have to be more specific,” Andrew said.
“Jordan’s friend Adrianna had been seeing him for the past few weeks,” he specified.
“That dirty dog! God, I miss him and his filthy mouth.” James smiled. “Let’s see, excuse my language, but is she tanned, petite, perfect ass, long black hair, and dragon tattoo on her back?”
The dimples deepened in Jordan’s cheeks as her eyes widened. “Yes, that’s quite the description.”
&nbs
p; “Now that I think about it. I’ve heard him mention her,” Andrew added. “Yeah, he wouldn’t shut up about her. Said she rocked his world.”
“It’s funny you say that, because that night when I picked him up, he said he’d never been happier staying inside. He laughed about how he was losing his game and getting too old for this shit. I thought he was joking, you know. But now . . .” James half smiled and shook his head.
Silence settled over them as they absorbed reality. “For all the times I told him to shut up, now I wish I had listened to everything he had to say, even the descriptive details about his love life,” Brandon said. “He was especially excited about those, but that was our Damian.”
“He sounds like the male version of Adrianna. No wonder she took a liking to him so fast. I’m honestly in awe she just told me about him. He sounds cool. I wish I’d gotten to know him,” Jordan said, drinking the rest of the wine in her glass.
Brandon’s eyes settled on Jordan as Damian’s last messages came together before his eyes. “Be with her. She’s good for you . . . We may be heading down the same path.” He’d been talking about Jordan’s friend. Brandon lowered his head. Looks like they’d both destroyed their paths.
“We do have some crazy videos with him on YouTube,” Andrew said. “Where’s the remote?”
Andrew pulled up a video of them jumping off a cliff, screaming in midair before slamming into the water. Another one showed them goofing off at a wedding reception. These videos left no doubt that not having Damian around would be difficult to get used to. But he didn’t want to come to terms with that tonight, or anytime soon—ever, if possible.
Brandon glanced over at Jordan with her phone out and wondered whom she was texting. Because while she’d been cozying up to whoever was on the other end of her phone, he’d been wincing at the growing ache in his groin, heavy enough to snap the waistband of his shorts. And even though she was free to date or talk to whomever she pleased, it didn’t mean he was okay with it. If only he hadn’t fucked up, he could take her to his room and lay claim deep inside of her. He shook his head free of the thought of having Jordan in his actual bed, but crazy enough, that was exactly where he wanted her.
