Page 76 of Yours to Lose
I run a single finger from the base of Jordan’s throat, between his pecs and down his torso, grinning wickedly when he sucks in a breath as my finger stops just short of the waistband of the black athletic shorts he wears.
“Come on, J. I wasn’t meant for this kind of boredom,” I complain. “I was meant for movement. For activity. For being outside and feeling the sun on my face. I want to burn down this fucking apartment.”
“It’s already getting dark out,” Jordan says, with a glance at the window.
“Uh, yeah, that’s the whole damn point. Fireworks happen when it gets dark out. It’s like a sign that they were rescheduled to tonight because of the storm on the Fourth and that they’re back on the West Side for the first time in a decade. We have to go. Come on, J. Let me live. It’s our summer of fun, and the last week has been the opposite of fun.”
Jordan cocks a brow at me. “You don’t think hanging out with me for the last week has been fun?”
I scoff. “I was deathly ill for half of it and coughing up a lung for all of it. I wasn’t anywhere close to my best, and none of that was fun.”
Jordan’s eyes lock on mine, his gaze boring into me. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Hurricane.” He rests one of his hands on the counter by my leg and anchors the other to the cabinet above my head, leaning in so close his mouth brushes my ear when he speaks. “I never don’t have fun when I’m with you, and you are always the prettiest girl.”
Holy. Hell.
Butterflies flit around my stomach and then swarm when Jordan presses a kiss to the sensitive skin below my ear, lingering there before leaning back to look at me. “Definitely no fever.” His voice is low and a little gruff, and it does crazy things to my insides. And…other parts of me.
“So does that mean you’ll grant me compassionate release from this prison on account of extreme boredom and fireworks?”
Jordan chuckles, and it breaks some of the tension simmering between us. “Yeah, Jo Jo, let’s go to fireworks.”
* * *
The energy in Hudson River Park is electric. People mill around and sit on blankets in groups, waiting for the show to start. A group of kids toss a beach ball around, and a man sings “America the Beautiful” in a deep baritone that carries over the crowd. The sultry July air wraps itself around us, and the city lights reflect in sparkles off the waters of the Hudson River. The most perfect snapshot of summer in New York.
Jordan and I sit on a low stone wall right by Pier 84, fountain Dr. Peppers and an assortment of snacks between us. After a week spent inside, I feel wild and free.
The night buzzes with possibility.
“This is the best Fireball I’ve ever eaten,” I say, crunching on the remnants of my first Fireball since I got sick a week ago.
“Your throat feel okay?” Jordan asks. I tried a Fireball a few days ago, but with my throat so raw from coughing, it was like pouring gasoline straight down my esophagus. While I appreciate Jordan’s concern, that’s not what I want from him right now. His entire demeanor from the last twenty-four hours tells me that whatever is going on here is moving past friendship town and straight to more-than-friends city.
The excitement is electricity in my veins, with a current of nerves too. Jordan made it clear weeks ago that he wasn’t ready for anything beyond friends, and I don’t want him to do anything he's not ready for. But I also have to trust that he knows his own mind and heart and is the best judge of what he’s ready for or not.
I know that at some point, we’ll have to sit down and have a real conversation about it, and I’m sure we will. But then I crunch the candy between my teeth again, and Jordan’s gaze dips to my lips, lingering there before his eyes drift back up to mine. In the deep, dark blue of his are a million questions and also every answer I have ever needed.
“My throat is perfect.” I reach for my soda, taking a long sip and pulling two more Fireballs out of my pocket, tossing one to him and keeping one for myself. “I know I gave you shit earlier, but I appreciate you taking such good care of me while I’ve been sick. You really earned your doctor title this week.”
Jordan’s eyes never leave mine. “I knew how to take care of you because I’m a doctor. I took care of you because the only thing that mattered to me was that you were okay. And I loved that you gave me shit, because it meant you were well enough to do it. I didn’t…” He breaks off and clears his throat, shifting a little like his thoughts are trying to escape and he’s trying to wrestle them back. He loses the fight. “I didn’t like seeing you so sick. You’re my most important person, Jo.”
The intensity in his words, in his gaze, the fact that he uses my real name instead of my nickname, the way his light brown hair falls across his forehead in a way that makes me want to push it back just to see how it feels between my fingers, have my stomach shimmering with nerves and anticipation.
“You’re my most important person too.”
We stare at each other, eyes locked, electricity humming between us when the first booms sound overhead. Both our gazes snap towards the sky, where an explosion of pink and gold lights the dark night.
“It’s starting! Come on.” I hop off the wall and turn, holding my hand out to Jordan.
He’s so used to my antics at this point that he doesn’t even question it, and something about that warms me all the way down to my toes. Jordan wraps his hand around mine and slides off the wall, following me to the fence along the water.
I find an empty spot and stand facing the river. My heart jumps into my throat when Jordan comes up behind me. His warm, hard body presses against my back, and he rests a hand on the fence on either side of me, caging me in. The fireworks shimmer above us, and Jordan surrounds me. His clean laundry scent fills my senses, and every thrum of our hearts beats with possibility, and I know.
Tonight is for magic.
“Why are we down here, Hurricane?” Jordan asks, bending to speak close to my ear. His proximity makes me a little light-headed in the absolute best way. “You told me earlier that the wall was the best seat at the pier.”
The fireworks boom in the sky above, and I lean back just slightly, resting my head on his shoulder. He slides his hands over so they’re covering mine on the fence. “That’s the best seat for pre-fireworks snacks. I like to be closer to the river to see the show, so I can watch the colors reflect on the water. It’s like seeing the fireworks from above and below. See?” I gesture to the shimmers of blue and green dancing over the water, matching the sky above. “It’s so pretty.”
