Page 84 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
Back in the day, though I never admitted it back then, the pranks I pulled were more fun than they were vindictive, and Jordan and I often ended up laughing together after all was said and done.
Somehow, I forgot that part.
That was the best part.
Maybe that’s what Jordan is talking about. I’ve forgotten to have fun and enjoy life. I’ve been so focused on being whatever my boyfriends wanted me to be that I’ve stopped living for myself.
And I’m miserable.
The text I send back is vague, but it’s the best I can do until I figure out how to let go of all the trauma I’ve been carrying over the years.
Me: I’m working on it.
Jordan doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t need to. I have to do this for myself as much as I do it for him, or it’s never going to stick.
October 19
I wake to the sound of the lawn mower, which sends my heart racing. I don’t want to seem overeager, so I take my time getting ready, putting on a pair of leggings and one of my favorite old band t-shirts, one I know Jordan likes as much as I do. Though I go minimal on my makeup so I don’t look like I’m trying, I make sure my hair isn’t a mess and spritz some body spray.
It might be overkill, but I don’t care.
By the time I make it outside, Jordan is tossing the last of his tools into his trailer and looks like he was planning to leave without saying hi. As soon as he sees me, though, he freezes, his eyes tracing over me and leaving a trail of heat as he goes.
“How’s Houston?” I ask. Apparently I’m too afraid to address any topics directly related to the two of us, even if my brother is still relevant to whatever is happening between us.
Jordan folds his arms and leans against the trailer. He looks way too good, glistening in the sun in his tank top. “He’s fine. He’s expecting too much of himself, as always.”
“So, he has new tenants coming?”
“Yep. A brother and sister, apparently.”
“That should be fun. Maybe she’s cute and Houston can start dating someone normal for once.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I doubt Houston would know what to do with someone normal. I’m still rooting for him and Tamlin, no matter how unlikely it is he’ll see her again. Stranger things have happened.” He says that last part with a smolder in his eyes, like he’s trying to tell me so much more.
I think I understand. I never could have predicted that I would connect with Jordan Torres as easily as I did last weekend. After all the nonsense we threw at each other, we were destined to be enemies. Not whatever this is.
I take a step closer, noticing the way Jordan stands up straight as soon as I do. “Did you talk to him?”
He shakes his head, watching each of my steps. “I didn’t get a chance. He wasn’t in the right mood, anyway.”
“But you will?”
His arms drop to his sides as soon as I get close enough to be within touching distance. He seems to be struggling to keep his eyes on mine. “Yes, I’ll talk to him. What are you doing?”
I grin. “Just coming closer so I don’t have to shout across the yard.”
“Brooklyn. I’m still frustrated with you.”
I touch the hem of his tank top as if curious what it’s made out of. And maybe my fingers accidentally brush against his stomach at the same time. “I’m frustrated with myself,” I admit, laughing inwardly at the way he grimaces as soon as my fingers make contact with his warm skin.
“My mom grounded Mateo, and I’m lucky he’s still talking to me. I feel like I’m one wrong move away from sending him running.” Jordan keeps his eyes on my hands, like he’s afraid I’m going to touch him again.
He’s right to be afraid. This time, I reach up and brush nonexistent dirt from his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his smooth muscle.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “About Mateo. Maybe I can talk to him? At the very least, I would like to apologize for getting him into trouble. That really wasn’t my goal, but I wasn’t thinking straight.” I drop my hands, and when my fingers run down his torso, this time it really is an accident, and I blush. Hard.
To my surprise, Jordan reaches up and touches my cheek as if he wants to feel the heat there. “This is going to be harder than I thought,” he murmurs to himself.
