22. Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty One
The beach is just as magical as I had imagined. It's just a shame it's tainted by lost love.
We check into the hotel, seemingly like a normal couple on the outside. We keep our composure somehow, fooling everyone. No one would ever expect that inside I'm falling apart.
Strangely enough, the smell of the hotel starts to do something to me. It's fascinating that smells can trigger things for us — memories, feelings, emotions. For me, seeing and smelling the bustling hotel lobby, it starts to put me at ease.
I'm still hurting — God knows I'm hurting. But as the hotel clerk hands us the room key, I begin to feel a touch of excitement. Even if this trip is going to end on a sad note — a fatal goodbye — I get to enjoy myself for two days. I can pretend that life outside of these walls is normal. Let myself get lost in the relaxation of a much needed vacation with someone I really care about.
I hate saying that because Jordan is the sole reason I'm struggling to exist right now. But I still love him. I still care about him, even if I can't have him.
I was once told that unconditional love is the ability to love someone even when they don't love you back or when you can't be with them but you still love them anyway.
That's me. A love-struck fool, dying for a man who will forget I exist one day.
He'll be putting a ring on her finger, watching her glide down the aisle in a pretty white dress. Nursing children and growing old, only occasionally staring at the sunset, remembering the girl from the flood. Maybe he'll stare at the rain and be reminded of flood waters. Or orange sunsets by a beach and remember whatever memories we make here this weekend.
Either way… I'll be a passing thought. He'll love her and I'll be the one that got away. But it won't matter because happiness and love can grow over time. One day, he'll love her more. More time together will pass, more memories will be created, they'll find out things they have in common, and every time that happens, our connection will fade.
And I'll be okay. I know I will one day.
It hurts now, just like it did with Jake. But I like to believe that maybe Jordan is right. I'll find someone deserving of my love, and it will be right place, right time for once.
I have to keep reminding myself that I was fine before I met him, and I'll be fine after. That's what they say, right?
Fucking bullshit.
Love is a scar. And as time moves on, the scar will fade, but the initial injury will always be there, a stark reminder of the love affair gone bad.
"Come on," Jordan says, grabbing my hand as he leads me to the elevator. "Let's head up. Here, pass me your bag."
I hand it over willingly. If this is our last goodbye, then I'm going to let him be the gentleman he wants to be. He can spoil me, love me… and I'll love him back. I'll love him so hard that when we say goodbye on Sunday, he'll feel like his heart is being ripped out too. And then, we can be two broken souls.
For weeks I thought Jordan was my soulmate. Now I don't believe it. Because soulmates are meant to last forever.
No — what we are is twin flames. Two pieces of the same soul designed to find each other for a reason. We're meant to be a lesson, a reminder. Soulmates are two souls joining, twin flames are one and the same. You can't survive a twin flame love affair, it's just never meant to be.
The elevator button for floor twenty nine lights up when Jordan presses it, and we stand awkwardly as it slowly rises. When the little ding signals our arrival, he leads us to the room and I'm shocked to find we're in the penthouse.
"You really went all out," I muse, looking around the room.
Our suite has a mini foyer, the bedroom to the right of the fork. A balcony awaits on the other side of the bed, overlooking the beach. To the left, there's two doors. One leads to a large bathroom, complete with a dual sink, the toilet, a walk-in shower, and a large bathtub. The other door leads to a living area which includes a large dining table at one end, a couch and television in the middle, and a little seating area with a coffee table at the other end — along with a second balcony door.
I realize we're on the edge of the building, the wrap-around balcony giving a view of not only the beach, but also the city behind us. It's a gorgeous room, and I know he must have spent a fortune.
Good.
I deserve it, the asshole.
"I did," he says softly. "I wanted us to really enjoy ourselves. I even booked us a couples massage tomorrow in here."
"In the room?" I ask, confused.
He nods. "I don't want to leave these walls. In this suite, nothing exists except us. The other world doesn't exist. It's just you and me."
I swallow, trying to not get overwhelmed by his words. "I could use a massage."
Jordan smiles, appearing happy that I'm starting to warm up to the trip. "How about we go downstairs after we settle in and get some drinks? Then we'll get some dinner and bring it up here."
"Sounds good," I mutter, grabbing my bag from him as I head into the bedroom.
There's a second television in here, along with the hotel standard cuck chair in the corner. I dump my bag on the luggage rack, unzipping it so I can change my clothes.
Not caring that he's behind me, I start undressing, pulling my clothes off. I opt for a mid-thigh summer dress, the yellow fabric a bold choice. I want him to remember everything about this weekend — every single thing I wear, what I smell like, our conversations.
And truthfully, I want to remember them too.
Large arms wrap themselves around me from behind, startling me. I didn't expect him to be so bold, but it makes me smile.
"You look beautiful," he whispers into my ear. "Like a glowing Firefly."
I tilt my head down, not making an effort to push him away. "Thanks."
We're so close that I hear him swallow, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to speak again.
"Come on," he ushers. "Let's go get some drinks into you."
We have a few cocktails down at the hotel bar before venturing outside to grab Indian food. When we get back to the room, we set everything out on the dining table, the smell of curry wafting through the air.
I sit down at the table ready to eat, noticing Jordan's still standing. He's staring at me and I tilt my head in confusion.
"What?" I laugh, the alcohol making me feel a bit tipsy.
"Come here," he orders softly.
I raise an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Please," he begs and I roll my eyes, pushing myself to my feet. I walk over to him, glancing up to meet his gaze.
He leans down, kissing me for the first time since everything went down. His cool lips press against mine and despite everything, I kiss him back. The familiar taste of home still calls to me and I let him, even though I shouldn't.
"If you let me, I'm going to fuck you on every surface of this room before the weekend is over," he whispers against my lips. "I want to remember the feel of your body, the touch of your hands, the taste of you."
"Okay," I murmur. He looks surprised and relieved, leaning back down to pick up where we left off.
Our kisses get more heated, the alcohol numbing me just enough that I can enjoy this for what it is. I let him lift me off the ground and suddenly, I'm sprawled on top of the table.
His hands push my dress up, ripping off my panties like he's desperate to bury his face in me before I change my mind. As his tongue traces my clit, I've forgotten about the anger, pleasure rolling through me like wild waves.
I grip his hand, holding his head firm as he brings me to orgasm, the sounds of my moans echoing around the room. When my high slows down, he grabs my hand, guiding me from the top of the table and walking me back to my chair. He pulls it out, waiting for me to sit.
"Don't be too nice," I scold playfully.
Jordan sends a tight smile in my direction. "I want to. Please let me. Now, eat your dinner. You'll need your energy."
My stomach clenches but I ignore it, digging into my curry. When we've finished eating, Jordan stands up, disappearing out of the room. I hear the bath tap start running and I shrug to myself.
He returns a few minutes later with a smile. "I'm taking you for a bath. There's enough room for both of us."
I laugh, following him to the bathroom. The two of us slip into the warm water, the circular tub just large enough for two people. After we get out, Jordan fucks me on the couch, followed by against the wall in the foyer, and again in the bed.
It feels so normal that after he falls asleep and I can hear his rhythmic breaths, reality creeps over me briefly. His arms are wrapped around me tight, even in his sleep, like he's terrified I'll leave.
I struggle to fall asleep, the darkness my only comfort as I lay in his arms, realizing that the hours are passing by until we reach the end.