Page 19 of Limbo

We never made such a bet, so Felicia glances over. I shoot her a look, warning her not to say anything.

With a sigh, Jordan pulls out his wallet. “Here. Take my money now.”

She plucks the twenty from his hand and drops back onto the couch. I have to press my lips together to keep from laughing at how easy he makes taking his money. It looks like he’s leaving when, suddenly, he leans down and plants a damn kiss on my forehead. I roll my eyes, and not to be outdone, he makes a face while dramatically rolling his back. I smile as he walks away.

The door shuts behind him, and I stretch out on the couch. “After the movie, you’re buying me ice cream with your winnings.”

She giggles, pulling my feet into her lap. “Maybe a new car if he keeps this up.”

“I hope he gives up before then.” I resume the movie, and we both jump as the sound roars back, still at max volume. I scramble for the button, laughing. “We’re blaming that on Towel Boy, right?”

“Right,” she says. “And on you for flirting back.”

I kick at her even though she’s right. Whether I like it or not, he gets under my skin more than anyone has in a long time. But in less than twenty-four hours, most of the state will separate us. An entire weekend without contact should help him lose interest. Once I return, everything can return to normal—predictable. Exactly the way I want it.

I hate Fridays.

The reason varies depending on the week. This particular one I despise because I look like a goddamn twelve-year-old. No makeup, hair back in a braid, tits lost in the sea of fabric provided by a T-shirt a few sizes too big, and the illusion of no ass, thanks to baggy jeans. Hell, if I could spontaneously summon zits to further decrease my appeal to the opposite sex, I would.

I zip up my bag full of similar outfits for the next few days and load my messenger bag for my morning class. A knock sends me spinning. Jordan is standing in my doorway earlier than I’d anticipated. My first class doesn’t start for an hour and a half.

Despite my appearance, his gaze rakes down my body and back up. So much for lowering my chances of inciting male attention. Flattering yet disheartening at the same time.

“Hello, handsome,” I say, relieving him of the cup in his hand.

“You’re talking to the coffee?”

I nod and notice the bag in his other hand. “Bacon ciabatta?”

He hands me the sack, and sure enough, the delicious breakfast sandwich I casually mentioned to Felicia last night is waiting inside. I take a bite and moan. So freaking amazing.

He clears his throat. “Do you need a ride this morning?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

My focus shifts back to him as I sit on the bed. “No, Jordan. I also don’t need a ride after class or later. Thank you for the sandwich and the coffee, but you shouldn’t waste your time.”

“So I’ve heard.” He leans down to kiss my forehead. “See you after class, beautiful.”

I fight off a smile at his blatant disregard for my speech. At this point, I wonder why I even bother.

As usual, when I want time to slow down—or even better, stop—it does the opposite, and far too soon, I’m walking to class. In another blink, we dismiss, the professor seeming more eager than the students to get a start on her weekend. I, however, drag my feet, walking out of the building like a pouty Cate being forced to a dentist appointment.

My coffee jogs toward me, bringing Jordan along with it. “Need a ride?”

“No, but thank you.”

“I’m concernedyesdoesn’t exist in your vocabulary.” He hands me his offering. “A fantastic word. Useful in a number of situations.”

I shrug, stepping around him. “Another failing of the public education system, I guess.”

He catches up and walks backward in front of me. “Well, if you ever need a tutor to help expand your verbal skills, just let me know. My lexicon’shuuuge.”

And his subtlety nonexistent.

“Maybe you can do me a favor then.”

“Anything for you, beautiful.”

“Define a word for me.”

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