Page 129 of Yours to Lose
“Bet your ass it is.” He takes a sip of coffee and then studies me, his expression turning serious. “Should we talk more about it?”
“More about what?”
He shrugs. “Life. What happens now. What happens next.”
As always, when it comes to Jordan, I hear what he’s not saying. Despite the love confessions and the sex marathon and the fact that we’re both half-naked in my bed, this man needs some reassurance, and I am more than happy to give it to him. “Did you drive all night last night and knock on my door before six in the morning to come tell me you love me?”
He smiles, running a hand from my ankle to my knee. “I did do that.”
“And did I tell you I love you back?”
“It was the actual best thing I’ve ever heard.”
“And did you or did you not give me four freaking orgasms before the sun was even up this morning during the best sex of my goddamn life?”
Jordan smirks at me, stroking his fingers over the sensitive skin behind my knee, making me shiver. “Five.”
I laugh. “Oh, I know. I just wanted to see if you were paying attention.”
He leans forward and gives me a soft kiss. “I always pay attention to you.” His grin turns wicked. “Especially when you’re screaming my name.”
I clench my thighs because fuck, everything about Jordan just does it for me. He is my perfect match. “And are we or are we not sitting in my bed at…” I glance at the clock, shocked to see it’s two in the afternoon. “Shit, two p.m., mostly naked, because we lapsed into a coma wrapped around each other after that best sex of my life?”
Jordan snorts out a laugh and squeezes my hand. “There is nowhere I’d rather be than here, Jo Jo.”
I reach around him to set my coffee mug on the nightstand, shifting to snuggle into his side. He wraps his free arm around me and runs his hand up and down my arm. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be except where you are, J. Everything else is just details. Ones we’ll figure out, and soon, because a month away from you was too damn long, and I don’t want to do it again, even after all the love confessions.”
He leans down and presses a kiss to my head. “I was hoping you would say that because, longest month of my life.”
“No shit. I kind of wish you had started on that apartment hunting already because I have to be honest, looking at apartments is the actual worst, and I would be happy to delegate that particular task to you. And aside from that, I seriously don’t care where we live as long as we’re there together.”
He grins down at me. “I have a confession to make.”
I sit up so I can look at him. “Lay it on me, J.”
“Okay, so remember how I told you my brothers all live in the same building?”
“Sure, and you said there was an available apartment I still think you should have taken. All four of you living in the same building is exactly the kind of chaos I want to be in the middle of.”
Jordan sets his coffee mug on the nightstand and turns to face me so we’re sitting cross-legged, our knees touching. “So, the building is actually a brownstone in Back Bay, and it’s kind of ours.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you mean it’s kind of yours?”
He shrugs. “It belonged to my grandparents—my mom’s parents.”
I gasp. “The famous Cece?” Jordan has told me a million stories about his grandmother. She sounds completely zany and exactly like the kind of person I would love. I didn’t get to meet her when we were in Boston because she was on a three-week Mediterranean cruise, which, awesome.
“The very famous Cece. Her parents—my great-grandparents—bought the brownstone and the one next door in, like, 1925, and then Cece inherited them both when they died and held onto them for all these years. She and my grandfather lived in one, and they remodeled the other into five big apartments Cece rented out to a rotating cast of characters she took under her wing over the years.”
“And now your brothers live in it?”
Jordan gives me a sheepish smile. “Now my brothers and I own it.”
My mouth drops open. “You and your brothers own an entire brownstone in Back Bay?”
He nods. “Turns out they put that one in my grandfather’s name for tax reasons, and when he died five years ago, it passed to us. Cece said she wanted to see us enjoy it while she was alive. Elliot, Noah, and Coop moved into three of the apartments at different points over the last few years, but I was in Pittsburgh, and then I was in New York, and now…”
He trails off, and the hope in his voice is the best thing I’ve ever heard. “I guess there won’t be any apartment hunting after all.”
