Chapter 8 - Jordin
Eight- Jordin
Silence filled the space in the car between me and Ciarán as the road stretched ahead, dark and endless.
We’d been driving for hours without a word.
I leaned against the cool glass of the passenger-side window, my head throbbing from the wine I’d drunk.
My stomach kept flipping—caused by a combination of the hangover and the weight of everything that had gone wrong in my life over the past month.
Ciarán drove with one hand on the wheel, posture relaxed like he had no worries in the world. But I’d already seen on social media there’d been some incident between him and his father. He didn’t seem bothered. I wondered what their story was, but not enough to ask.
We hadn’t said much since I got in the car.
He’d pulled up, texted me that he was downstairs, and I went down.
He told me to get in—that we were going to his house in Miami to get away.
I didn’t have clothes or anything, not even a toothbrush.
I was wearing a pair of leggings and an Ice Cube T-shirt with Hello Kitty slippers. I didn’t even care. I just got in.
Maybe it was my fault we weren’t talking. I didn’t exactly feel like making conversation. Maybe I should’ve asked him about his dad.
I cut my eyes to the window and was met with nothing but darkness before they returned to him.
I eyed his profile, faintly illuminated by the dashboard glow.
His side view was deadly. This man had the type of face that could make you forget your own damn name if you weren’t careful.
He wore a simple white T-shirt, joggers, and Nike slides, like he’d just rolled out of bed to come get me.
It was the first time I’d seen him dressed down. I wondered why he wasn’t with anybody.
I broke the silence, suddenly feeling like talking. “You ever think about marriage? Kids?”
He didn’t answer right away. Didn’t even glance at me. Just kept his eyes on the road like I hadn’t said anything.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but there was something underneath it—something heavy. “Nah. Not really. Not something I want.”
I turned in my seat to look at him fully, trying to figure out if he was serious. “Why not?”
“Because I know myself, Jordin. I have issues. My moms was sweet as pie… But my pops… I took after him. Got the same fucked-up chemical imbalance. Temper like fire, mean streak a mile wide. I’ve seen what that shit does to a family. I don’t want to do that to anybody, especially not kids.”
His honesty caught me off guard.
He shrugged, still not looking at me as he continued.
“But, I mean, I could see myself with someone long-term. Someone who gets me, you know? Someone who understands when I don’t want to be bothered for days.
Somebody who gets that I ain’t gonna always have time for them.
But papers and promises? Nah. That shit don’t mean anything if you can’t back it up.
My dad used to give my mom all kinds of promises, and you know what they added up to?
Zero. I can’t do that to anybody. Won’t do that.
” His voice was so calm, so matter-of-fact, like he’d convinced himself a long time ago.
I sat back, trying to absorb what he was saying without judgment. He was too young to be this jaded. I had just caught my husband cheating, and even I wasn’t as cynical.
“You talk like that and it makes me want to hug you.”
His head turned toward me, his jaw tight. “I don’t need your pity, Jordin,” he snapped, his tone cutting into me. “Not everybody wants that fairy tale shit.”
The air in the car shifted, heavy and tense. I studied his face. “I’m just saying, it’s sad to close yourself off from something that could be good, just because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” he said firmly, his voice low. “I’d rather be alone than fuck someone up because I tried to give them something I can’t.”
I exhaled slowly, letting his words settle in my brain. “So you think you’re protecting people by shutting them out? You’re not. All you’re doing is isolating yourself. Keep doing that and you’ll never find somebody who’ll love you through all that you mentioned.”
He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You sound like a fucking motivational poster. But let me ask you something. How are you still this big on love and relationships when your husband was just balls deep in another bitch? That shit don’t make no sense.”
Ouch. Shocked by the heat behind his comment, my mouth dropped open. “Low blow, Negro,” I replied. But I couldn’t even be mad. I was the one who started the conversation.
“Am I wrong, though? You telling me you not bitter?” he rebutted.
I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms. “Yes, I’m bitter, but that doesn’t mean you can throw that shit in my face because I said something you don’t like. I’m not out here preaching love cures all, Ciarán. I’m saying it’s worth trying.”
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading into something more serious. “You’re right. It was low. My bad.”
I turned and stared at him for a second, surprised by the apology. “Thank you,” I said, a little softer.
“But for real,” he continued, leaning one hand on the steering wheel. “How you still believe in all that shit? After what he did to you?”
I sighed. “Because what he did doesn’t define love. It just defines his stupid ass. I can’t let his bullshit ruin the way I see the world. I don’t want to be that forever bitter, closed-off person who can’t trust or feel anymore.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the road. “I get it. Doesn’t mean I agree, but I get it.”
I needed to change the subject before I turned into a mess, crying in his car or cursing his ass out. “It’s good to know you don’t want a relationship or kids,” I said, forcing a small laugh to lighten the mood. “If we ever fuck, I’ll know not to take you seriously.”
His tires shrieked. My body snapped forward, seatbelt biting into my shoulder. The bottle of water in the console toppled, rolling under my feet as the car screeched to a stop in the middle of the empty highway. My pulse slammed against my throat.
“What the hell, Ciarán?” My voice cracked.
He turned slow, eyes locking on mine. “So, us fucking is a possibility now?”
The way he said fucking, low and deep, sent warmth sliding down my spine. I stared at him, caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack him.
“You goofy as hell,” I said, shaking my head. “I was just saying.”
He leaned back in his seat, smirking as his hand drummed lazily on the console. “You didn’t say no, though. And you usually just say no outright. So, what you’re really saying is... there’s a chance.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my grin. He was too much. “You’re being weird.”
“Nah,” he said, his voice low, “I’m just making sure you know there’s a chance. But I won’t press you about it. We both know damn well it’s only a matter of time before you let me have you the way I want.”
“Here you go.” I rolled my eyes.
“I’m right. I know it. Why else would you be here with me?” He chuckled.
“You’re too cocky for me,” I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest. I was lying—I loved me a confident man.
He leaned in, his face too close, his eyes pinning me where I sat.
“Nah, I’m real. I already seen how I affect you.
You just don’t want to admit it yet,” he said, his voice dipping into the dangerous, hypnotic tone he sang with.
He grabbed my jaw, forcing eye contact. “When you finally stop fighting it…” His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, slow, “I’m going to stretch you out in my bed.
I’ll take my time with you, learn the rhythm of your body, every sound you make, every shiver.
Have you begging, wanting all of me at once, fast and hard.
” He tilted my face up, his eyes flicking down to my throat, then back to my lips. His mouth curved into something lethal.
“You’ll let me kiss that spot on your neck that I notice you rub when I say something that makes your pussy hot.”
The car was suddenly too small, too hot, his voice filling every corner. My throat worked around a swallow, my palms pressed against my thighs like they could hold them together. He kept going.
“And I’m gonna touch every part of you. Make you forget who you’re mad at, how he hurt you. And you’ll love every second of what I do to you,” he added.
I had to breathe through temptation.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, but my voice shook, a weak laugh dragging itself out of me.
He let my face go and started the car again. “No, you’re ridiculous for denying yourself,” he said.
I didn’t say shit else after that. He was right.
My intention had been to fuck him—that was the reason I came—but now I was forbidding myself to.
He was too intense for me. I was too soft.
I’d end up in love with a man who didn’t even believe in love.
And I wouldn’t get to blame him when he broke me.
He’d already told me the truth. He laid it out plain.
He wasn’t about promises or forever, just the moment.
And I couldn’t trust myself to keep it casual.
I leaned my head back against the seat, trying to calm the storm in my chest.
About thirty minutes later, the Miami skyline came into view, the sunrise painting it in soft hues of orange and pink. The sight pulled me back into memories of Oak, of the life we had shared over fifteen years. We’d spent a lot of nights in Miami, tangled in expensive hotel sheets.
It had been a month since I left him at the police station, and the pain hadn’t dulled. Marriage wasn’t supposed to end like this. I wasn’t supposed to be sitting in another man’s car, wondering how I’d let my life get so far off track.
Ciarán didn’t say anything as he pulled into the driveway of a black glass house that looked like it belonged in a music video. He cut the engine and turned to me, his eyes searching mine.
“You good?” he asked, his voice softer than I expected.
I nodded. He reached out, his thumb swiping across my cheek, showing me the wetness. “Then why you crying?”
I blinked, realizing too late that tears had slipped down my face. I turned my head away, embarrassed, trying to pull myself together. “I’m not crying,” I mumbled, lying even as I felt the tears.
“J, you ain’t gotta do that,” he said, his voice firm now. “Cry it out if you need to. Nobody’s gonna judge you here. Least of all me.”
I blinked again, still trying to hold back the tears, but his words broke something in me.
“I’m just so tired,” I whispered, barely audible.
“I know,” he said simply. He reached out and pulled me into him.
His body was so warm. I let myself melt into it.
“Let me take care of you for a while. With everything that happened and the fact that you’ve been working nonstop, you need to breathe,” he offered.
For a moment, I hesitated, knowing this was a door I might not be able to close once it opened. Still, I found myself saying the one word that felt like surrender.
“Okay.”