Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
“No way!” I grab the other side and pull, curiosity getting the better of me. “Let me see.”
“Stop. We’re blocking the way.”
“Let me see just one sec.”
I try to grab the middle of the burrito at the same time as her, and the accidental touch sends a jolt of electricity down my spine. It happens again. The first time it did was when I handed her a coffee. When I felt the world slowing down and vanishing into thin air. When my entire body vibrated with awareness because she was near, so near I could pull her to me and kiss her.
Why does she have this kind of effect on me? It’s jarring and disorienting, like I’ve slipped inside the life of someone else.
Clearing my throat and the jumble of thoughts in my head, I smile at her. “So, how about it, Jordyn? Will you let me have that lunch? Don’t you think I finally deserve it? I’m a clean eater, and I keep my mouth closed when chewing. I promise.”
The line between her eyebrows deepens, and I wonder what I’ve done to earn such mistrust. Or maybe that’s just how she operates? Like mistrusting is her default and I need to prove I’m worthy of her trust.
She sucks the inside of her cheek, thinking. “How do I know you didn’t set that up, and that guy isn’t one of your friends?”
I burst out laughing. “My God. Someday, you and I are gonna need to talk about your trust issues and how you think everything’s a conspiracy. But to answer your question, you don’t know for sure. Now, will you go out for lunch with me?”
Jordyn rolls her eyes, but I see the answer even before she says it. “Fine. Yes. But the moment I hear you grind your food loudly, I’m out.”
4
JORDYN
No restaurant or diner is available, which is not remotely surprising. It’s lunchtime, and everyone’s rushing to eat before they go back to school or their offices.
I don’t even feel hungry anymore. Looking at a flustered and frustrated Jordan is amusing enough. I’ve never seen him this rattled or out of his element. And I shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I do.
Today has been quite a revelation. For the first time since meeting him, he’s not his usual funny self. Earlier, when he demanded the guy apologize, I saw a side of him I never knew existed—a protective, no-nonsense attitude that oddly turned me on.
People always say it’s the quiet ones you need to look out for, but I disagree. It’s also those who always appear unaffected by everything. Those who make jokes all the time. Those who breeze through things. Because when they snap, well, all hell breaks loose.
Jordan lets the glass door swing shut behind him, a look of dejection on his handsome face. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and drags his gaze toward me.
I know what he’s going to say even before he opens his mouth. “I’m sorry. They’re full.”
I shrug. “Okay. Let’s just buy pizza or burgers and eat by the quad.”
“Su—” Jordan pauses mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. The corner of his mouth lifts, that familiar spark igniting behind his eyes. Then, his whole face lights up. His grin grows wider, boyish and unguarded, and it’s in that moment when I feel something deeper than physical attraction.
I am not someone who enjoys spending time with others, but with Jordan, I don’t mind. Odd, for sure, and it makes me feel like I’m standing in the middle of a rocking boat, ready to topple any time. This whole thing is weird from the start, but watching him this happy has just become one of my favorite things ever.
“I’ll do you one better,” he exclaims, his excitement contagious. “How about I cook for you? I’m a great cook. No, scratch that. I’m an amazing cook.”
I fold my arms over my chest and cock my head to the side. “Your confidence is really something else.”
“I know, right?”
“You wouldn’t know humility if it struck you in the face.”
“That’s because humility knows better than to mess with moi.” He emphasizes the last word by dragging his hands from his hair to his chest. “Besides, if something does hit me in the face, my hair will still be fabulous.”
I groan and give him the side eye. “Let’s go before your vanity makes me lose my appetite.”
I guess I should have expected it.
His two-bedroom apartment, which he shares with his friend Toby, is messy and chaotic. The moment I step inside, I’m hit by the smell of pizza and something burnt.
He probably sees me scrunching my nose because he says defensively, “That’s Toby. He burned his breakfast after reheating a slice of pizza on the pan.”
I turn to look at the kitchen. “You have a microwave?”