Jordan Reclaimed

by Scarlett Cole

  There were only so many ways to keep the questions at bay. Only so many ways to keep the calories down. It was only a matter of time before Jordan figured out what she was doing, but by then, she’d hopefully be at her target weight.

  One of his hands gently squeezed the back of her neck as they sat in the cab now, and the other one stroked her thigh so close to her groin that she was worried the taxi driver would kick them out before they even got to her house.

  When they turned onto her street, Lexi asked the driver to wait a few doors down so as not to alert her father to her presence.

  “I’ll just be a minute,” she said.

  Jordan pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it to the driver. “Change of plan,” he said to Lexi, ushering her out of the taxi. He closed the taxi door and it drove away. “I can’t wait that long.” He took her hand and guided it between the two of them and placed it over his erection.

  Lexi looked toward the house. The lights were all off, but it didn’t mean her father wasn’t watching. She so didn’t want to have to deal with him tonight. As long as they stayed close to Mrs. Hatton’s bushes, and slipped in through the side entrance, though, they might be okay. “You have to be very quiet then,” she said, and nervously took his hand.

  “I don’t think I’ve snuck into a girl’s room since I was fifteen,” Jordan whispered, and she slapped his arm to get him to shush.

  Once inside, they took their coats off and put them on hooks, then tiptoed down the stairs to the basement.

  Jordan ducked considerably to avoid one of the support beams.

  “How tall are you exactly?” she asked quietly.

  “Six foot four. Which is approximately seven inches too tall for your apartment, Lex. Getting me horizontal with you as soon as possible would be an act of mercy,” he said as he pressed his chest up against her back and wrapped his arms around her front. He nuzzled the side of her neck and growled gently. She liked this playful side of him. Lexi laid her hands over his, sliding them up her body until they rested over her breasts.

  “Someone’s eager,” he chuckled, squeezing them firmly in the large palms of his hands. “Take me to your bed, Lex, before I run out of patience and throw you over the arm of that sofa.” Quickly, he gripped the hem of her sweater and tugged it over her head, and she was grateful she’d worn the sexy cream satin cami underneath.

  She circled her hips against him seductively. If there was one thing she could do, it was dance, and when he groaned and gripped her hips, pressing his erection firmly against her, he confirmed it. He moved his hands down to the front of her jeans, popped the button open, and lowered the zipper.

  “Hey, Lex. You’re a dancer, right?” he asked, sliding his hand into her underwear, the pads of his fingertips brushing against her clit.

  “You’re stating the obvious, counselor,” she said, raising her arms and lifting her hair away from her neck.

  Jordan removed his hand, and she groaned. He turned her around quickly, sliding his hands up her ribs to tease her nipples. “So, do you just to ballet, or can you do other stuff?” he mumbled against her skin.

  “I like to think I can do anything. Why?”

  “Because I was wondering what a guy might have to do to earn a lap dance from you, Sexy-Lexi?”

  She’d never done one before. In fact, she’d never been in a relationship with any one as sexually . . . what? . . . expressive as Jordan. But she loved the idea. She’d dance for him any way he wanted her to. As long as they were in private. “Ask me nicely,” she said, and pressed her lips to his.

  A little too eager, she pushed him backward, and his head hit the beam. She heard the crack first. “Motherfucker!” came next.

  At first she was concerned, but then she looked between the two of them. Her half undressed with her underwear out of place. Him with a huge erection. And she laughed.

  “Lex,” he warned, but she could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

  “Sorry, baby,” she said between giggles, and did her best to pout. “Want me to kiss it better?”

  Jordan huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No,” he said roughly, sounding like he was attempting to be stern. “I want you to kiss this better,” he said, running his hand along his cock.

  Lexi dropped to her knees.

  “Lex,” he said with a laugh, dropping the pretense. “I was joking. I want that dance I was in the middle of—”

  “ALEKSANDRA!” They both jumped at the shout that came from the door to the main floor.

  “Can we ignore it?” Jordan whispered.

  Lexi closed her eyes and sighed as the hammering on the door began. Embarrassment trickled through her, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at Jordan. Not yet.

  “Lexi. What’s . . . going on?” her father slurred. “Who is with you?” Her stomach sank. If he was drunk, he was never going to leave them alone.

  She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Jordan offered her a hand and she took it, coming to her feet. “We can try, but when he gets like this, he just keeps going until I answer.”

  “Why you ignore me? Come to the door.”

  “Do what you need to do, Lex. I’ve got your back,” he said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

  “You ungrateful bitch. Open the door.” There was another bang on the door, followed by a grunt and the sound of what was likely her father falling to the floor. “After the sacrifices we make for you,” she heard him mumble.

  Quickly she reached for her sweater and pulled it over her head. “One minute, Dad,” she called out, buttoning her jeans.

  “Jordan, no,” she said as he set off for the stairs, but it was too late. She didn’t want Jordan to meet her father this way. Heck, she didn’t want Jordan to meet him at all.

  “Who are you?” Lexi heard her father yell as she raced up the stairs and into the hallway opposite the dining room. “You dare bring a man to my home,” he said as he tried to get up off the floor. Tear tracks ran down his face, and his eyes were red and swollen. Newspaper cuttings about him as a young dancer were sprawled across the table.

  Torn between the gut-wrenching sympathy she felt for the destroyed man in front of her and embarrassment that this was her life, Lexi couldn’t move.

  She watched as Jordan offered his hand to help, but her father shrugged him away. “I’m Jordan, a friend of Lexi’s.”

  “So you’re a whore now. My useless daughter finds her only skill.” His laugh sounded manic.

  Lexi gasped, and turned to face Jordan, but he didn’t look her way.

  “What the fuck?” Jordan shouted. “The fact you are blind drunk is the only reason I’m not beating the crap out of you for that, you piece of shit. Get your pathetic ass off the floor.”

  “Oh. So you fight for my daughter, big guy,” her father said, wobbling to his knees.

  Lexi placed her hand in Jordan’s. She needed him to anchor her. And wanted to ensure Jordan didn’t do something . . . reckless . . . in response to her father.

  “You take her. You’ll see how useless she is.” Her father looked her straight in the eye, and it tore her heart out. “She kill her mother, you know.”

  Jordan didn’t say a word. He simply pulled her to his side, wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulder. But his presence was doing little to quell the wave of hate she suddenly felt toward her father.

  Today had been the best day she’d had for . . . well, ever. And now it was a shitstorm. Her father stumbled into the living room, grabbed the picture of her mother from the dresser on his way past, and fell down into his chair.

  “Well, maybe she should have killed you too, you miserable piece of work,” Jordan said, roughly.

  “I miss her,” her father mumbled as he put his head back against the chair. “Miss her so much.” He held the picture to his heart, and Lexi felt the pressure in her chest release a little. His eyes closed and his head slumped as he fell asleep.

  Uncertain of what to say, she stepped aw
ay from Jordan and walked back downstairs. She heard the door click shut, then Jordan’s footsteps as he followed her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said when he finally joined her in the living room. “When he gets like this, he . . . remembers stuff, and . . . it’s a long story.”

  Jordan pulled her to him and kissed her on the top of her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You want to tell me what happened?”

  Lexi sighed, too exhausted to even cry. “My mom was killed in a car accident on her way to pick me up from class when I was young. There are days when he knows it wasn’t my fault, but I think it’s easier for him to blame me. The driver of the other vehicle was killed too, and sometimes he needs someone to rage at.”

  “Oh, Lex. I’m sorry,” he said, leading her to her bedroom. “You want to stay here or go to my place?”

  Sex was the last thing on her mind. “I should stay here. I’d hate for something to happen to him, even though he’s an asshole.”

  Jordan started to remove her clothes. “What are you doing?” she asked, stilling his hands.

  “I’m getting us into bed,” he said, shimmying her jeans down her legs.

  Lexi let him because she was suddenly too tired to fight him. “I can’t. . . . I’m not in the mood to—”

  Jordan stopped what he was doing and placed his hands on either side of her face. “Nothing is going to happen. But you’re upset, and I’m not leaving you here alone.”

  Lexi’s heart swelled at his words. Once he’d safely tucked her into bed in her underwear, Jordan removed his own clothes, leaving on his boxer briefs. For a moment, he disappeared, and then she heard the sound of lights being turned off before he reappeared in the bedroom and turned off that light, too.

  The bed dipped as he got in, and he rolled toward her, gathering her into his arms. She felt safe in his embrace. “Thank you, Jordan,” she said and kissed his chest.

  “You’re welcome, Lexi.”

  * * *

  “Watching you is like watching fucking Animal Planet,” Lennon said, sitting down next to Jordan at the breakfast bar two days later.

  Jordan turned to look at him. “Well, this I can’t wait to hear,” he said, scooping up a spoonful of Lucky Charms.

  “When frightened,” Lennon said in a voice that Jordan assumed was his best imitation of a documentary presenter, “the male adopts a defensive position around his sacred cereal, consuming up to three times more bowls than necessary.”

  For a moment, Jordan considered the fact that Lennon was close to being correct, that he was indeed on his third bowl of Lucky Charms, but then he decided to follow through on his initial thought and shoved Lennon off his chair.

  “What the fuck, asshole? I’m not the one who needs soggy marshmallow shit to get me through Dred moving out.”

  “And I’m the one just sitting here, minding my own business, eating breakfast, when a dick with shit for brains decides to turn therapist,” Jordan said as he stood. He dumped the rest of the bowl down the drain and rinsed his dish. “You know, some days, I fully understand why they left you alone.”

  Lennon’s face drained of color. “Fucking low blow, asshole.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe it’ll teach you to think before you open that stupid mouth of yours.”

  Jordan jogged up the stairs to grab his shoes. The moving company would be here soon, although there wasn’t that much to actually move. Dred was taking the stuff from his room and some of his musical equipment. But in the short term, they had agreed that they would continue to record in the music studio in the basement. What would happen when the rest of the band followed suit and moved out, Jordan didn’t know. They could always find another place to record, but Jordan wasn’t sure he could cope with his brothers spread out across Toronto.

  He’d spent the night vacillating between knowing intellectually that everybody was fine and being in a state of panic. They would all live in their own secure houses. And he’d see them frequently. He knew that none of them were leaving his life permanently. But as soon as he stopped repeating that to himself, the anxiety would creep in. They were leaving him. Their lives would move on. And he’d be alone again.

  He had Lexi, but he wanted his relationship with her to be based on much more than his fear of being alone. The night he’d spent at her house, though, had been a revelation. He’d been so concerned about the situation between Lexi and her father that he hadn’t spared his brothers a thought until he’d woken up in the middle of the night in a panic.

  Jordan turned on the landing and bumped into Pixie just as she left her room. “Oh my gosh, sorry,” she said, placing her hand against her chest. “I was miles away, Jordan.” She took his hand. “How are you doing today?

  “I’m good. Happy to help. It’s a big day for you guys, right?” He plastered a smile on his face. He’d spent most of the last fifteen years faking it, so he was a pro at convincing the world he was in a good place when he wasn’t.

  “Yeah. Dred’s just dealing with little missy in there. As much as I love the little munchkin to death, I can’t wait for her to have her own room. She snores almost as loudly as her daddy does when he’s had one too many beers.”

  “We can hear you talking about us, Mommy,” Dred said, stepping out of the bedroom.

  It was the first time he’d heard either of them use the word “Mommy” for Pixie, and in spite of everything he was feeling, he grinned. “Mommy,” Jordan said, pulling Pixie into a hug. “I like it.”

  “We decided that the day we all were finally living together under one roof, in our own home, was the right day to start using it. Isn’t that right, Petal?” Dred said, looking down at the little girl who was, for once, eyeing Jordan suspiciously.

  “Hey, do you mind giving her some breakfast while Pixie and I get some last-minute shit done?” Dred said, handing her to him.

  “Sure, come on Ettie. Let’s see if I can’t find something sugar-filled so you keep Mommy and Daddy busy all day.”

  As he carried Petal down the stairs, she placed her head against his shoulder and sighed. Her little fist grabbed hold of his T-shirt. When they got to the kitchen, he sat her in her highchair attached to the end of the breakfast bar. Usually, the little imp fought him when he tried to put her in it, but today she just let him slide her little legs, clad in bumble-bee-striped leggings, through the holes.

  “What do you feel like, today, chickpea?” he asked, poking his head into the fridge. “I can do apple and cereal, chopped up banana, yogurt,” he said, and turned to look at her.

  Usually food brought a smile to her face, but fat tears were silently rolling down her cheeks. She knows. She knows we’re all going our separate ways. But that was freaking ridiculous. What baby could figure that out?

  “What’s up, Ettie?” he asked as he sliced a banana and placed it in front of her.

  “Ja-ja-ja,” she said with a sniff.

  “You want Uncle Jordan?” he asked, opening his hands to her, the universal symbol babies understood to mean “up.”

  Petal nodded, so Jordan removed her from the seat, sat down on one of the stools, and perched her on his knee. He reached for the plate of banana and set it in front of her, but she didn’t dive in as usual.

  “Why so glum, sugar plum?” he said, placing a kiss on top of her head. She smelled of lavender, a scent that would forever remind him of her.

  She flopped her head against him again and gripped his thumb, so he cuddled her closer.

  “Yeah, I don’t want you guys to move out, either. But you’ll have this great new house to live in with a lovely big room all to yourself. And I’ll keep your crib here so you can come sleep over.” The words almost stuck in his throat, and he wasn’t sure who he was trying to comfort, Petal or himself.

  Petal looked up at him, and the tears turned into hiccoughs. She was going to break a thousand hearts as she got older, but his would always be the first. “You know what the most important thing is, Ettie?” he said as he picked up a piece of b
anana and popped it into her mouth. “That you have a mommy and daddy who will love you like no mommy and daddy have ever loved a little girl. And you have Uncle Nikan, and Uncle Elliott, and Uncle Lennon, and most of all me to look out for you.”

  Finally, Ettie smiled and grabbed another piece of banana.

  “Truck’s here,” Nikan shouted, bounding in through the front door wearing the clothes he had been in the night before.

  “Good night?” Jordan asked as Nikan helped himself to a huge mug of coffee.

  Nikan winked. “Always.”

  It took the majority of the morning to get Dred and his family into their new home, and it was three o’clock by the time they were seated in Dred’s new family room eating subs that Pixie had made.

  Jordan looked at the classic rock albums that were in box frames on the wall. Iron Maiden, Metallica, Sabbath, Judas Priest.

  “Pixie’s idea,” Dred said, nodding his head in the direction of the artwork. “Said hanging our own would be too pretentious,” he added with a laugh.

  “You guys did a great job of decorating the place.” The family room was a mishmash of new and vintage. Dark brown sofas in aged leather dominated the space, but they were offset with quirky accents like a bank of vintage arcade games and a large lava lamp that Petal was fixated on.

  “I think Pixie was determined to get it done so that we could move in as soon as her paperwork came through. She’s never really had a home of her own either, and I guess the excitement of it kept her going.” Dred looked over to where his fiancée was pointing out something in the garden to Nikan and Elliott.

  “I’m happy for you,” Jordan said quietly. “Seriously. You’re all set.”

  “There’s room for you here though, Jordan. You’re not an extension of my family—you are my family. You belong here as much as anyone else.”

  Jordan swallowed deeply. “I’m okay. This is a good day for you. We don’t need to make it about me.”

  Dred nodded. Years of being friends had ensured they understood each other. “Well,” Dred said, lightly, “speaking of good days, how are things with you and Lexi?”

  For the first time today, Jordan smiled. “Progressing. And I think she gets me.”