Page 31 of Limbo

“Absolutely. All types of voodoo shit like that. But I’m telling you, he’s about five seconds away from admitting this thing between the two of you is a hell of a lot more than he bargained for. He’s just not quite there yet.” He nods, sure of himself as he speeds around a corner.

My stomach sinks—and not from the erratic driving. The prospect of Jordan developing real feelings seems worse than him successfully tricking me into having sex with him. As long as I drive halfway across the state every weekend and suffer through my parents acting less responsible than their six-year-old, I have neither the time nor patience for anything else—for anyone else.

“So, why have you put up with him for this long?” Benji asks. He tugs on one of his lip rings. “You just yanking his dick or what?”

“Honestly, I thought he’d get bored and give up.”

The corner of his mouth hitches up. “You like him, too.”

I let my head fall on the headrest and spit out my standard answer, “I can’t handle a relationship right now.”

Benji brakes hard in front of my building, both of us moving forward with the momentum. He throws the Jeep in park and twists in the seat to face me. “And Jordan barely understands the concept. Yet the two of you have essentially been in a super-intense relationship without any of the good parts for a week now.”

I laugh at his observation. Jordan has been my clingy boyfriend and me the bitchy girlfriend who refuses to put out.

“You’re pretty insightful,” I tell him.

He plays with an air vent. “I just cut through the bullshit. It makes life a hell of a lot simpler.”

“Do you really think he wants more, or are you his last-ditch effort to manipulate me?”

“Would I lie to you, man?” His mouth turns up, but his gray eyes stay gentle. “Let me answer that for you. No, I would not.”

Why I trust him within a few minutes, I’m not sure. Everyone else in my life jumps through hoops for a long time, sometimes never breaking through. Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t let his gaze lower from my face since finding out who I am. Or perhaps I just want to believe him.

“Thank you for the ride, Benji,” I say, climbing out.

I’m about halfway to the door when he calls after me, “Hey, Calico.” I turn around, and he ducks to see me through the rolled-down window. “If you cut the bullshit, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other soon.”

I smile as he drives away, convinced I might have just met one of my favorite people.

When I get upstairs, I crash onto my bed, not sure what to think anymore. I’ve always envisioned the situation with Jordan ending one of two ways. Either he nailed and bailed, or he simply bailed. Not once have I considered other outcomes. Especially not any that involve him sticking around for an extended period of time. But when I stop to think about it, over the course of a week, he’s cemented himself as one of the most reliable people in my life. A low bar, but still, everything feels a little more tolerable with him around and, as much as I hate to admit it, less complicated.

Damn it.

I roll onto my back, realizing Mission Win Callie Over is a success. An annoying but undeniable success. And what makes it worse is, not only do I want Jordan Waters, but I also think I want to bewithhim. A potential disaster, considering I’ve never even seen a functional relationship, much less been in one. Pete, maybe, but we were just kids, and I tossed him aside without a second thought. All for a dimple attached to an arrogant asshole who brought with him dysfunction equaling Graham and Lauren levels.

Despite all of that, Benji’s comment about cutting the bullshit cycles through my head, and slowly an idea starts to form.

Three days.

In three days, I leave for the weekend. It gives me more than enough time to stop challenging Jordan’s every move and see what the hell happens. If Benji’s wrong and Jordan still only wants to fuck me, I’ll walk away on Friday. Cleanse him from my life. If Benji’s right and Jordan wants more, I’ll at least have some indication of what a relationship with him would be like. So long as it avoids a path of complete chaos and ruin, we’re golden.

I reach over the side of the bed and dig my phone out of my bag to text him.

I like Benji.

Noncommittal in case I change my mind about the whole thing. Which happens right after hitting send, but then he responds, andmy lips turn up.

Jordan:He check out your rack?

Immediately.

He sends,Sorry.

He drives your Jeep like a madman.

You rode with him?

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