Page 102 of Yours to Lose
I love you.
The words are so clear, it’s like I spoke them out loud, and I feel the truth of them in my bones. I kiss Jo with everything I have, pouring out all my emotions, hoping she feels the words I’m not ready to say.
Then I open the car door to hug my family hello.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
JO
“Here goes nothing,” I mumble as I push open the car door to the sound of six voices talking at once. The chaos goes a long way towards relieving my residual nerves. I grab my massive tote, glad cooler heads prevailed this morning and I brought the big one instead of switching out my bags. I don’t even know half of what’s in here, but I’m sure I need it all. My emotional support tote, if you will.
Closing the car door behind me, I look up to see Jordan in a six-way hug with his parents and brothers. His eyes are closed, and I can tell by the tight line of his shoulders and his clenched jaw that he’s holding in all of his emotion at this reunion that is such a long time coming.
It’s his mom who notices me first.
“What the hell, Jordan,” she practically yells, slapping him across the back of the head and breaking away from their hug, planting both hands on her hips. She’s dressed in a bright pink sweatsuit, red hair curling wildly around her face. She has red glasses perched on her nose, and behind those glasses are bright blue eyes that leave no doubt as to where Jordan got his.
She exudes warmth and sass, and I love her immediately. She is a complete contrast to the tall, quieter man with salt and pepper hair who stands behind her with his sons, looking exactly like what I imagine Jordan will look like in thirty years.
“Ow, what the fuck, Mom?” Jordan looks up with such a disgruntled expression that I snicker. I think I’m going to like Jordan Wyles: Boston Edition.
She gives him a baleful look, tapping her toe in a dramatic show of irritation. “It’s fine, baby. It’s not like you brought a girl home to meet me or anything. This is definitely no big deal. For sure, you shouldn’t worry about introducing me to her. That’s probably not important.”
She turns to me. “I swear I housebroke all my boys, but there’s only so much a mom can do, you know?”
She lets out a long-suffering sigh, and I laugh out loud, turning to grin at Jordan. “You did a pretty good job with him.”
Jordan narrows his eyes at me. “Just a pretty good job? I recall you telling me this morning I was a full-blown ten after I made not one, but two different breakfasts since you don’t decision well.”
I give him a sly smile. “J, there were so many reasons you were a full-blown ten this morning and almost none of them had to do with breakfast.” I realize what I’m saying as the words are coming out of my mouth, but my brain is moving too fast, and I’m helpless to stop them. I slap my hand over my mouth, cheeks heating, as Jordan barks out a laugh, and all three of his brothers collapse into hysterics.
“Fucking shit,” I mutter, giving his mom an apologetic look as all four guys continue laughing so hard they’re gasping for breath. “I’m so sorry,” I say sheepishly. “I’m Jo, and I usually have a better filter. Okay, I actually never have any kind of filter, but I always kind of wish I did.”
Jordan’s mom grins at me. “Oh, honey, what’s the fun in that? I’m Pam Wyles, and this is my husband Rob, and we are so happy to finally meet you.” She holds her arms out to me, and I’ve always appreciated a hugger. I go to step into her arms but am immediately jerked backwards.
Turning my head, I see my bag strap is stuck in the door. I could do the sensible thing, which is to open the car door and free the strap. But I’ve never been all that sensible. Instead, what I do is tug as hard as I can and yank the strap free with so much force that I fly forward. I catch myself before I face plant onto the driveway, but I watch as my bag goes flying, stuff scattering everywhere.
“Holy shitballs,” I mumble, taking in the makeup bag, kindle, wallet, keys, four tampons, two condoms, thong, and, to my absolute and utter horror, my small u-shaped clit-sucker vibrator with the g-spot stimulator that I lost months ago scattered all over the Wyles’ driveway.
My emotional support tote is really doing me dirty.
The driveway goes silent, and I swivel my head, taking in the scene with a weird sort of calm, kind of like I imagine the survivors of a disaster must feel when they disassociate from the horror of it all. But when my eyes snag on a red lace bra hanging from one of the side mirrors of Jordan’s car, no amount of detaching can save me.
Time slows and my head is strategizing the best way to pick it all up, but let’s be honest. There is no graceful way to pick up two condoms, a vibrator, and assorted lingerie from the driveway of your boyfriend’s parents’ house. The only way is to do it and do it fast. I’m making my move when a loud snort sounds from in front of me.
My head flies up, and the second my eyes meet Jordan’s, he explodes into the most gorgeous laughter I’ve ever seen. His mouth is open, and tears stream from his eyes, and I feel tears prick my own eyes as the joy rolls out of him and hits me.
But I still have to save face. It’s a pride thing now.
I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m sure you’re laughing at something one of your brothers said and not at the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.”
Jordan comes to stand at my side and wraps his arm around me, trying to get himself under control and failing miserably. Instead, one of his brothers steps forward, grinning at me and holding out his hand. “Hey, I’m Elliot, and this is the absolute best meet the family moment of all time.”
I study him, his light brown hair and eyes so much like Jordan’s. He wears the air ofI’ve got this handledlike a well-fitting suit despite being dressed in shorts and a T-shirt with some computer pun on it I can’t figure out.
Taking his hand, I grin back. “Elliot, it’s really nice to meet you. I always do like to be the best at things.”
Another brother, this one with darker hair and the same eyes, taller, with a squarethis man belongs in Hollywoodjaw shoves Elliot out of the way. “I’m Noah. Can we keep you, please? I think you’re my favorite person in the entire world.”
