Page 6 of Burly and Honorable

Jordan remains standing as he takes a long drink from the water bottle. The light shifts through the leaves above him, catching in his hair and softening the hard angles of his face.

I sneak a glance at him, trying not to stare. But it’s impossible to ignore the way Jordan looks at me. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed, but this time, it feels different—like there is a deeper meaning than plain friendship.

I can be myself around him in a way I can’t with my friends. I’ve only ever felt this comfortable around Keenan. It shouldn’t surprise me that I feel the same way with Jordan, but it does. I thought Keenan was the only person who I could relax around. Then again, I never had the chance to spend much time with Jordan one-on-one. What would have happened if I’d known him before Keenan?

I break the silence before it can swallow me whole. “I used to think Keenan was the only person who truly understood me,” I say, unable to hide the trembling in my voice. “But now, I think… maybe I was wrong.”

Jordan’s expression shifts, the muscles in his jaw tightening before he replies. “He did understand you,” he says. “But I see parts of you he didn’t.”

Jordan looks away first, his hand reaching for the strap of his pack. The movement is casual, but I catch the tension in his shoulders.

I stand, finally having caught my breath. I brush my hands on my pants, the motion automatic as I try to shake off the weight of the moment. “We should keep moving,” I say, my voice brisk.

Jordan straightens, his eyes flicking to mine. For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. The space between us feels charged, and my pulse quickens as his eyes hold mine.

My mind swirls with conflicted emotions. In any other circumstance, I’d let myself fall into the emotions that Jordan stirs in me. But now? All I can think about is how he was Keenan’s best friend.

If I give in to these feelings, am I betraying Keenan?

CHAPTER 4

JORDAN

This is so good!” Hanna’s eyes roll back in pleasure.

I smile as I watch her. In the moments Keenan’s death doesn’t weigh on her, I see herjoie de vivreand energetic happiness.

Right now, that happiness is a bacon cheeseburger at a greasy diner we found by the motel where we rented two rooms.

Though I have to admit, the food is unexpectedly good at this diner. It’s tucked away on a stretch of road with nothing else.

“It’s good to see you smiling again,” I say, dragging the last of my fries through some ketchup.

Hanna looks up at me, her blue eyes wide. “Thanks. It’s times like this when I feel almost normal again.”

Her voice is soft, but it’s enough to stir something in me. It’s almost easy to believe that we’re simply two people sharing a meal, not here for heavy reasons.

She takes another bite of her burger before glancing at me. “Do you remember that first camping trip? The one where Keenan tried to make dinner?”

I nod, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Hard to forget. Pretty sure he turned the chicken into a pile of ashes.”

Her laugh comes quickly, bright and easy. “He was so proud of himself. He said it was ‘extra crispy.’”

“Yeah, well, it was extra something,” I reply. “I had to drink half my canteen to choke it down.”

She laughs harder, the sound bubbling out of her like it’s been waiting all day. This is the Hanna I remember—always happy and positive.

Her laughter draws my attention to the soft curve of her throat and the way her hair catches the light as it falls over her shoulder. My mind fills with fantasies I shouldn’t have. What would Keenan say if he knew what I was thinking now? Of how I want to see her silky brown hair spread out over the pillow next to mine every morning and night for the rest of my days?

I know he would want me to look after Hanna. But would he be okay with making her mine?

We standin front of my truck at the motel, a sudden awkwardness in the air between us. It should be easy to call it a night and be done with it, but I don’t want Hanna to walk into a different room. I want to reach for her, pull her into my arms, and tell her everything she needs to hear. But I stay where I am, my hands clenched into fists against my thighs.

“I think I’m going to turn in,” she says, glancing toward the door to her room.

I nod. “Yeah. Good idea.”

She tenses slightly as I hug her before returning the embrace, though it feels like she’s holding back. I watch as she enters her room and closes the door, the lock snicking securely.

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