by Jack Harbon
“I said I got it. I don’t need your help right now, okay?”
Momentarily stunned, Rex could only watch as Jordan moved around the living room picking up trash. He considered leaving the conversation right then and there. Whatever was on his mind was heavy, and Jordan struck him as the type that needed to be alone to process his feelings. At the same time, it wouldn’t feel right to just leave him here when something was so obviously bothering him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You were weird during the meeting today, and you’re being weird right now. What happened? Is it something Lana said?”
Jordan’s eyes snapped up. “Did you overhear our conversation?”
“No. I just saw how upset you looked at the end of it. Is everything okay?”
“Not really. Lana told me that this meeting was her last. She’s getting into pottery now, and she won’t have time for both activities.” He tossed garbage into his bag with a little more force than before. “And I’m not mad at her. She’s allowed to leave if she wants. But people keep leaving. I thought when you joined, we’d be on an upward swing, but that’s not what’s happening. We gained a new member and lost an old one. We’re exactly where we started.”
For the first time in a while, Rex didn’t know how to respond. This was out of his wheelhouse. Whenever Amy came to him with her disappointments, he always found a way to cheer her up through sarcasm or humor, but this wasn’t the same. He didn’t know Jordan the same way. He was starting to get a better picture of the man, sure, but there were still integral parts of him that were a mystery.
Rather than his tried and true method of a joke, Rex said, “I’m sorry Lana’s leaving. But that doesn’t mean the club is ending. There are still four of us that want to do this with you. It’s not a competition.”
“It’s not,” Jordan said, desperation in his voice, “but my grandma would’ve never had this problem. She didn’t. She knew how to run things like this.”
“What?”
Sighing, Jordan collapsed on the sofa across from Rex. “When I was little, she’d always take me to her book club meetings. Some of my oldest memories are of listening to her read passages from books, or all of her friends giggling about some cute waiter at the restaurant they always held their meetings at. She made it look easy. Everyone loved being together and just fangirling over whatever they were reading. Nobody ever dropped out. Nobody ever lost interest. And all I keep doing is losing members. I try to be on her level, and I just…can’t.”
It was the break in Jordan’s voice, just barely decipherable, that gave Rex all the information he needed. This wasn’t just something fun to do on the weekends to avoid thinking about the failing economy and the state of the government. This wasn’t Jordan’s self-medication the way it might be to so many others.
He cared about this. The kind of care that could drive a person to act irrationally, to end up nearly in tears over a harmless hobby. For whatever reason—and try as he might to fight it—Rex felt his Grinch-sized heart squeeze at the sight of Jordan’s wide brown eyes cutting across the room, a sparkle of tears just on his red-rimmed lashes.
“Hey,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft.
It took a moment, but finally, Jordan looked back at him. “What?”
“It’s gonna be okay, man. You don’t have to get this upset, okay?”
In a flash, his sadness turned to contempt. “You don’t understand, Rex. I don’t expect you to. I’m sure to you, I look like a child sitting here crying over this. If that’s what you want to think, then fine. I don’t give a fuck, okay?”
With palms open to signal his innocence, Rex said, “Jordan, I’m not making fun of you. I get it. This club matters to you. More than anyone else. You’d never want to see something you care about fail. And I promise, I’m not making fun of you for caring. It’s…”
“It’s what?”
“It’s kind of cool.”
Jordan scoffed. “Yeah, okay.”
“I mean it. Do you know how many people would kill to have the same kind of passion as you? There are people who don’t even care about their kids as much as you care about Meet Cute Club. That says something. I would never make fun of you for loving something that much.”
Though his face softened, Jordan’s words were still sharp, a knife dragging just along the line of Rex’s pulsing neck. “I know the kind of guy you are, Rex. You like to make fun of people because you like getting under their skin. Don’t think I’m gullible enough to fall for this nice guy act all of a sudden.”
Despite his sincerity, Rex smirked. “I do like getting under your skin, sure. But I’m serious. Meet Cute Club is gonna be fine.”
“You don’t know that,” Jordan said. He stood from the couch and turned his back, wiping his eyes before he began picking up the small mess in the living room. “People are dropping like flies around here. By the end of the year, I’m sure it’ll just be me and one other member.”
“You really doubt me that much?”
“What?”
“I told you this club is going to be fine, because I’m here. I’m going to help you with it. And I don’t lose.”
Rex watched Jordan’s body stiffen. With a snail’s pace, he turned to look at Rex once more. His suspicion couldn’t have been more obvious if he said it out loud. “Why are you going to help me? You don’t really care about this club. You just want to bother me.”
“That’s not true,” Rex said, his voice rising an octave. “Maybe I don’t love it as much as you, but it’s pretty, y’know…cool. I guess.”
“You guess.”
Rex hopped from the couch and reached out to Jordan, grabbing his forearms and staring him down. “Jordan, I’m going to help you with this, do you hear me? I may be an asshole, and kind of a douchebag—”
“And obnoxious, and irritatingly persistent—”
“And an amazing kisser that practically left you panting on the kitchen counter, yes, yes, we know. But beyond all that, I’m not heartless. I don’t look at someone in need of help and ignore them. So, I’m going to make you a promise. You give me a chance, and we’ll make this club the best damn thing in Sweet Rose. People will be lined up to join. You might even have to rent somewhere else to host your meetings.”
That was the magic mental image. Rex could see it in the way Jordan’s eyes glazed over and his smile grew dreamy, visualizing hordes of people just as eager to dive into the latest Angelica Whoever’s novel. For the briefest moment, Rex’s heart did that same annoying double-thud, but he squashed the emotion beneath his boot, reminding himself that this was all fun. Hope only led to misery, and for the first time in his life, he was done being miserable.
He was going to focus on the present, and presently, his goal was to cheer Jordan up and make his book club better than it had ever been before.
“Don’t screw with me, Rex. You said it yourself, I love this club more than a child. Do you know what parents do when someone messes with their child?”
Rex was willing to bet his life’s savings—however small—on the fact that Jordan meant every last word of his threat. As adorably uptight as the man was, he’d seen his fair share of documentary series on the ID Channel. He knew how easily people could flip the switch. He also knew that if he spent any more time imagining Jordan’s perfect face scrunched up in indignant rage, he might end up turning himself on.
“I’m not screwing with you, Jordan, Jesus Christ.”
“Watch it,” Jordan warned, and Rex was once again reminded just how close to a Southern belle this guy was, all prim and proper and shit.
“Do you want my help or not, man? Take me or leave me.”
Jordan’s eyes narrowed for a moment, deep in thought, until he finally said, “I’ll take you.”
“I’m sure you could.”
“Behave.”
Rex chuckled out a half-hearted, “Sorry, low-hanging fruit.”
“We have work to do. If we’
re gonna make this club the next big thing, we need to get the word out. You think you can handle that, Rex?”
Feigning insult, Rex donned an exaggerated Okie accent to say, “You think I don’t know how to get attention? Why, I never…”
Jordan’s head fell back as he groaned, stomping off to the kitchen to throw away the trash in his hands. “Kill me now, God.”
Rex would’ve normally found himself rolling his eyes at just how dramatic Jordan could be, but his gaze was glued to the man’s ass as he walked away. He didn’t consider himself all that religious, but a gift like the one Jordan walked around with was the only evidence he needed for divine creation.
Six
“You take any longer to dial that phone number and I’m going to do it myself,” Amy warned Rex, putting one hand up on her hip and narrowing her eyes at him.
“Yeah, right,” he muttered, turning around and staring down at his phone. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d asked a million and one guys out before, and none of them ever made him feel this anxious. This was the furthest from how he operated, and the fact that he was twisting himself in knots over how to approach the situation frustrated him more than anything else had.
Jordan struck him as the wary type, always triple-checking before he leapt, and Rex wasn’t sure if his typical laissez-faire technique would garner the same positive results it usually did. Jordan might just laugh him off and tell him they’d see each other at the next Meet Cute Club meeting.
Before he could make his decision, Amy suddenly snatched the phone from him and pressed CALL, smirking at him and waving the phone in his face. “Amy, give me the damn phone!”
She spun around, avoiding his hand thrusting towards her for his cellphone. When he tried again, she let out a laugh and dashed to the other side of the room.
“I swear to god, Amy,” he warned. She dodged one more lunge before turning around and tossing it at his chest.
“I told you I would,” she said, winking at him. Rex had half a mind to throw one of Nana Bailey’s dusty couch pillows at her, but just as the thought popped into his mind, he heard Jordan’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello? Rex?”
Clearing his throat and straightening up, he said, “Hey. I didn’t interrupt your precious reading time, did I?”
“No. Just my precious Not Talking to Rex time. What’s up?”
Rex cracked a smile at the insult. “I was wondering if you were busy later today. I’m off for the day, and I had an idea.” With how laid-back his boss Carla was at Millerstone, Rex’s hours were constantly shifting, giving them all day to hang out.
“Wow, a whole idea all on your own?”
“You’re especially snippy today, aren’t you? Seriously, are you doing anything?”
“No. What did you want to do?”
This was the part Rex had been anticipating all morning, ever since he’d made up the decision that he was actually going to ask Jordan out rather than only see him when they had their meetings for the club. Seeing Jordan in his element was always nice, but he was tired of having to split his time with five other people. Well, four now.
“I was thinking we could head over to somewhere pretty damn special to me. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I think you’d really enjoy it.”
The curiosity in Jordan’s voice was palpable. “Where would we be going?”
“I can’t ruin the surprise now, can I?”
Across the room, Amy gave him an exaggerated eye roll and stuck her finger down her throat. This time, Rex did manage to snag one of the pillows from the loveseat and hit her right in the face with it. She burst out laughing and quickly straightened her hair in the mirror.
“If you have a date with a good Christian cowboy and his Southern belle love interest, that’s totally fine,” Rex continued. He was absolutely baiting Jordan, and something inside him said it was going to work hook, line, and sinker.
“I’m not busy. You can pick me up at two.”
“One.”
“Fine. I’ll see you then.” And with that, the line went dead. Rex hated how wide his smile was, and he forced himself to cough so he had a reason to cover his mouth. It was all in vain, however, because the moment Amy spotted that toothy grin, she went in for the kill.
“Rhett, you’re positively blushing right now.”
“Fuck off, no, I am not.”
“Rhett’s got a boyfriend, Rhett’s got a boyfriend!” When she stopped her teasing, she returned the pillow to the loveseat and said, “You really like this guy, don’t you?”
His first instinct was to deny, deny, deny. No one ever got this power over him. No one ever got to take him to this level, to the point where he was feeling all mushy on the inside. He’d always made it a point to have that power, to be the crusher, not the crushee, yet Jordan had somehow turned the tables on him in a way that simultaneously intrigued and infuriated him.
“He’s fine,” Rex managed to say casually. Amy gave him a look, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to admit that there might’ve been a chance he wanted to spend more time with Jordan to himself, let alone his obnoxious kid sister. She’d have a fucking field day with it, and he refused to let her have that much leverage.
“Sure. Just know that whenever you two get married, I want to be your best woman. I also plan to find the love of my life at your wedding, too. Maybe a groomsman will sweep me off my feet…”
Rex snorted. “You sure you don’t want to join Meet Cute Club? You’d fit right in with all the other hopeless romantics.”
“I’d only be getting my hopes up,” Amy sighed. “My love life is more Shakespeare than Alyssa Cole. But you and your boyfriend have fun.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, brat,” Rex grumbled, but it was already too late. Amy had latched onto the nickname, and he was never going to get her to stop referring to Jordan that way. Rather than dwelling on the inevitable jeering his younger sister would do, he threw himself into cleaning out the rest of the room, attempting to ignore the tiny little spark of excitement stirring in the pit of his stomach.
Jordan paced back and forth in his room like he was trying to compete with his Roomba, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes before his nerves lit up all over again. He wasn’t nervous, but he also wasn’t sure if this situation was entirely platonic.
Sure, he and Rex talked sometimes, trading funny pictures and giving each other occasional updates on the books they were reading, but this wasn’t just meeting up at his house with everyone else. They’d be alone, wherever Rex planned on taking him, and as someone that needed to know where he was going and who all would be there, Jordan was losing his cool piece by piece.
He’d changed his outfit three times, finally settling on a baggy sweater and jeans, but with how long it was taking Rex to text him and let him know he was outside, Jordan reconsidered his clothing choice once again. He had to discipline himself and put his foot down. It didn’t matter what he was wearing, because this wasn’t a date, because making out with Rex in his kitchen a few weeks ago didn’t mean anything.
People kissed all the time.
People kissed others they had no real interest in all the time.
People kissed and dry humped each other like it was going out of season all the time.
Okay, so maybe there was something there. Maybe this was a date. That thought only sent Jordan up into another tizzy, but graciously, his phone vibrated to let him know that there was no time to panic. Rex was outside.
He took a quick, controlled breath before heading downstairs and out to the curb. He found Rex leaning against his motorcycle, helmet under his arm like he was posing for the cover of People. He wore a long-sleeved heather grey Henley, dark wash distressed jeans, and a pair of boots that looked as if they’d seen better days. It all worked for Rex, however, and Jordan could’ve easily stared for much longer had time allowed for it.
“This is…” Jordan started, gesturing to the motorcycle.
“We’re taking this?”
“Yes, sir. You’re not scared, are you?”
He could hear the underlying snark in Rex’s tone, but in a moment of honesty, he simply said, “Yeah, a little…”
“Don’t be. I’ve only been in nine accidents. Everyone knows you get ten free before you should start to worry.” Jordan gave a weak smile, but he couldn’t feign bravery as well as he’d have liked. Rex handed over his helmet. “I brought this for you. If you’re not into it, I can just order us a car or something. It’s up to you.”
Oddly enough, Rex had immediately dropped all his sarcasm and wit. He stared at Jordan, watching and waiting for his reaction. “No,” Jordan said, taking the helmet and pulling it over his head. “This is okay. I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll be alright. I trust you not to smear us across the road.”
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Rex replied. He raised his eyebrows twice, then swung a leg over the bike. Jordan followed suit, scooting close enough to press his chest to the other’s back.
“So, I just hang on like this?” he asked, getting comfortable with his arms around Rex’s chest. Momentarily, he worried that Rex could feel his pounding heartbeat with their bodies this close together, but rationality won. When the bike roared to life, Rex wouldn’t be able to feel anything but the purr of his ride.
“Just like that. Keep your thighs tight, too. And if you need me to pull over or stop for a second, just let me know, alright?”
Still uneasy about his kindness, Jordan pressed closer to the man and nodded. “Sure.”
Through sheer concentration and his determination not to chicken out, Jordan was able to keep from flinching or squeezing Rex too tight the moment they pulled away from the curb. He could tell by the speed that they started with that Rex was giving him time to adjust, and that only made it easier for him to finally open his eyes and look around.
He’d driven around Sweet Rose for just over a decade, and because of that experience, he thought he knew what his tiny Oklahoma town looked like. Riding forty miles an hour on the back of a bike proved just how wrong he was. The spring flowers looked even brighter, the nearby restaurants smelled even better, and with the wind whipping in his face and his stomach practically sinking down into his toes, he let out an almost maniacal laugh. This wasn’t that bad. In fact, as they turned right onto Addleston Road, Jordan found himself never wanting this to end.
