Page 38 of Fake Dating Daxton Hawk
50k spent on clothes. I’m impressed, kitten.
Jordan
Eek! You said you wanted me to buy expensive clothes. Did I go overboard?
No. I like it. Keep spending.
Yes, sir.
Yes, *pumpkin*
I just spat my drink and am choking with laughter.
I smile at my phone, liking that I make her laugh. As promised, we texted all day during my meetings. These last two days of back-and-forth messaging have been amazing, to say the least. I didn’t intend for us to communicate like this. I’d barely spoken a word to Jordan all week, wanting to give her space. But then she messaged me, asking what I was doing. It was such a simple message yet with so much meaning.Shewas initiating conversation.Shedidn’t hate me for once. Jordan kept asking me questions and making jokes. Before I knew it, the day was gone and so was the next. She was a mixture of my Jordan from Secret Santa and the Delphine side I’m still learning about, and it was incredible.
Daxton
I’m glad I make you laugh. At the risk of bringing up a bad topic, how are you feeling after everything that happened on the weekend?
You mean my embarrassing meltdown?
Surprisingly, I’m ok. Even more surprisingly, texting you has been exactly what I needed.
But I am lonely.
Can I… call you right now? Say no if that’s weird.
My jaw twitches. A phone conversation at this hour, while I’m in bed, is far more intimate than the way we’ve been chatting. But it has to be a good sign. She’s warming to me quicker than I had thought possible.
Instead of texting back, I dial Jordan’s number. “Hi,” she answers in a soft, relaxed manner, sending tingles throughout my body. The number of times I’ve wanted to call Jordan over the years, just to hear her speak that one word and know how beautiful her voice sounds, is uncountable.
“What are you doing up this late?” I ask. “It must be three a.m. in New York.”
“Lying in bed, trying to sleep.”
“Me too.”
She laughs, the breathy sound traveling straight to my groin. “You’re not off partying somewhere?”
“Jordan, do I look like a partier to you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know much about your life.”
“It’s pretty simple. I have no life outside of work. I don’t party.”
There’s a moment of silence between us where all I hear is Jordan’s breath, and I wonder how something as simple as the sound of her breathing can keep me on edge, begging for more. “What do you do for fun?” she asks.
“I don’t know. Watch movies. Practice the piano so I can play duets with my fifteen-year-old niece.”
“Seriously? That is so cute.”
“She’s the kind of kid that doesn’t have many friends. She loves playing the piano, so I do what I can to have a connection with her. What else—I read thrillers, I cook when I can, I work out.”
“You have an amazing gym here. I’ve been living in it all week.”
That knowledge makes me smile, knowing Jordan enjoys something I can give her. “You like to work out? I guess that makes sense. I saw you holding a handstand by the pool for a crazy amount of time.”
“Stalker.” She laughs again. And fuck, it is the most beautiful laugh I’ve ever heard. I wish I was there with her in New York so I could see the smile that matches.
