Page 21 of Fake Dating Daxton Hawk
Delphine
Sure. Here are the details.
AN: 28395552738
RN: 039204555
Account Name: Jordan Hart
I rip the bedsheets off me and sit up, not believing my eyes as I stare at the account name. My pulse turns into a deafening thump in my ears. My skin itches with a burning heat.
It’s her. Delphine is Jordan.
Delphine is the girl I’m in love with. She’s living in my penthouse. I spent the day with her in arms’ reach, with her waltzing around my penthouse in a bikini and last night in a bra and panties. She’s been in my life for months, and this whole time I was oblivious that she is my girl.
I should be ecstatic. I should be rushing straight back to New York to be with Jordan. But all I feel is dread.
This girl hates Daxton Hawk.
Everything will be over between us as soon as she discovers who I am.
A sharpness forms in my chest, one I haven’t felt in a long time, but am all too familiar with. So familiar it takes no effort to identify—the pain I felt from losing Felicity. It was debilitating when I first experienced it years ago. Jordan was the one who made that pain go away. Now, the thought of losing Jordan is the cause. Only this time, the sharpness is amplified. I can’t go through all that devastation again, losing another important woman. I may own hotels all around the world, a private jet, a beachfront property in Malibu, but none of that shit means anything to me. Jordan is the one thing in this world that makes me happy, and I can’t be without her.
I lean back against the headboard, taking a moment to let the reality of this situation sink in. Along with panic, I can’t deny being shocked. Jordan is not who I expected her to be at all. She’s not the sweet girl I created in my head. I’m not dumb enough to have thought the Secret Santa side of Jordan is the only side of her that exists. I just didn’t think the difference would be this extreme.
But if the online version of Jordan exists inside Delphine—the deep, intellectual, funny, and caring side—then I want it. I want all of Jordan. Delphine doesn’t present herself as having any of those attributes. Though the truth is, I don’t know much about Delphine because I haven’t taken the time to know her.
I can change that. I want to learn every side of Jordan. I need to find out why she doesn’t like me, then I need to fix the issue so I can tell her who I am.
Despite how royally fucked I am, one piece of information stands out to me: I now know what Jordan looks like.
And my God, she is… magnificent. Sexier than I ever could have imagined.
Blood travels to my dick, thinking about those long legs and the curve of her ass. The memory of her in that bikini stirs me.
All arousal disappears when another realization hits me. Jordan is an escort. AlthoughInever slept with her, I passed her number on to one other businessman during our first date. He has to be the reason many others in the industry received her contact details and hired her—all men who would have slept with her.Degradedher, like that fucking asshole, Tom Sanders.
Anger overpowers me, boiling over my threshold and needing an outlet. I slam a pillow to the mattress and punch it. Five times. Ten. I have never been more furious at myself.Idid this to Jordan.Iintroduced her to the world of escorting.Iam the reason she has been selling herself to men and having sex for money. I may not know Delphine, but I know Jordan, and this isn’t the life she wants for herself. She’s not the kind of girl who would feel empowered by this line of work. All she’s ever wanted is to dance. Desperation has pushed her into dangerous territory. I can’t believe I had no idea she was struggling so much.
A Secret Santa message alert pulls me out of my full-blown rage and I race to read it.
JORDAN HART
You’re probably asleep right now but I have to say this. I’m going through a really rough stage of my life. Everything is falling apart for me. But you know what? I’m lying in bed, re-reading our messages from today, and I can’t stop smiling. This will sound crazy, and maybe I am crazy, but sometimes I think I’m in love with you.
My whole body freezes when I read the last sentence.
Love.
Jordan has never used that word with me before. She is so damn precious. I want to tell her everything so there are no barriers between us. But I need time to sort through this situation and make sure I’m approaching it in the best way possible.
JORDAN HART
I can’t be in love with you, though. The rational side of my brain tells me these feelings aren’t real. I don’t truly know who you are. I think I’m in love with the image of you I’ve created in my head. A fantasy.
She’s right to have those concerns. The three typing dots appear in the app. I wait with my heart beating in my throat, needing to know what she says next.
JORDAN HART
