Chapter 11 #2
Too close. Too visible.
He just wanted to be alone with him again.
Cree seemed to change his mind then, leading him from the theater room back up the stairs, through a series of hallways Jordan had yet to explore.
The house was bigger than any five star resort Jordan had stayed in on family vacations.
He could probably explore for six months and not see every room in the mansion.
The house shifted around them, noise fading with each turn. Until they exited into a giant glass room filled with plants.
There was a name for rooms like this.
A…solarium.
What were they going to do out there?
He didn’t ask questions. He just let Cree lead, secure in the knowledge that he was safe with him. That whatever Cree was doing, it was intentional. Thought through. For him.
He led him deeper and deeper into the glass space, the snow-covered panes glowing faintly from outside lights, turning the storm into something hushed and distant. The world beyond the glass felt unreal, muted, like they’d stepped into a pocket outside of time.
At the very back corner of the glass enclosure was another, well, not a room exactly, but a secret hiding spot. They were everywhere. And this one felt like it had been waiting for them.
A built-in nook, partially concealed by tall plants and trailing vines, lined with a cushion the size of a full-size bed, thick, plush pillows and piles of blankets. While the solarium was sky-high, this glass room was small—small enough that they had to crawl to reach the back.
They practically fell into the space, the cushion beneath them settling around their bodies cradling them like the space was made just for them.
Somewhere nearby, a hidden vent breathed warm air into the space, keeping the cold at bay.
There was a foot tall lip around the space, spilling with books.
Oh, it was a reading nook, meant for someone to get cozy under a pile of blankets and read while looking up at the world outside. The space felt intentionally tucked away, like it wasn’t meant to be stumbled upon. Like it had been built for quiet.
“This is…crazy,” Jordan whispered, afraid to talk normally.
The place felt too…sacred. Like screaming in a church.
“Another of Thomas’s secret spaces for the kids.
They hide down here and read or play games,” Cree said, gesturing to the board games tucked in the far corner.
His voice was softer here, like the room demanded it.
“But I come down here sometimes to read when we’re staying here for longer than a night. ”
Cree rolled onto his back, turning his head towards him.
Jordan’s nerves shot through the roof as he did his best to not look in his direction. The cushions dipped with every movement, their proximity suddenly impossible to ignore. “Wh-what are we gonna do?”
Cree’s gaze met his, studying him for a moment before saying, “We’re gonna watch a movie. Remember?”
“How?” Jordan asked, glancing around. “Is there a hidden tv in here too?”
He wouldn’t put it past Thomas.
Cree slipped his phone from his pocket, shaking it. “Like this.”
“Oh, right.”
Jordan gave a stilted nod, watching as Cree pulled up the movie on one of the apps. Once it was cued up, he used the suction cups on the back of his phone to stick it to the glass above their heads. He hit play, then laid back on the pile of pillows once more.
Jordan stayed where he was, stock still, unsure what he was supposed to do next.
Cree seemed to sense his unease.
“Come here,” he said quietly, opening his arm so Jordan could lay there.
His breath caught.
He wanted him to lay on him. On his arm anyway. Close. Closer than they already were anyway.
Cree wanted to…cuddle. Or maybe it was just the most convenient way for both of them to see the screen. Either way, the invitation felt deliberate. Personal.
Jordan laid down before he could overthink it any more than he already was, Cree’s bicep just behind his head. He could feel the solid warmth of him immediately, the slow expansion and contraction of his ribs as he breathed.
It only took about three minutes for them to realize that the screen was too small to be as far away as it was. Jordan moved so Cree could sit up, pulling the phone from the glass with a velcro-like sound that made them both giggle.
When he laid back down, he placed the phone in his right hand, letting it rest on his flat stomach, seemingly content to hold it there for the entirety of the movie. When he looked at him expectantly, Jordan laid back down, only now he had to curl into Cree’s side to see the screen.
The adjustment felt intimate in a way Jordan wasn’t prepared for, like the room itself was quietly insisting they be closer.
He maneuvered himself onto his side, trying to figure out a way to lay without being presumptive. Every possible position felt like too much. Or not enough.
“You can lay on me. That’s why I put my arm out,” Cree said gently. “Get as close as you’re comfortable being. I don’t mind.”
“Oh,” Jordan said, cheeks growing hot.
Why was he being so awkward?
He shook it off, doing what he wanted, curling his body into Cree’s, letting his leg settle over his, resting his head on his chest. His heart was beating embarrassingly fast now, every nerve ending awake, a sharp contrast to the slow, heavy thud of Cree’s heartbeat beneath his ear.
How was he so calm?
Cause you’re just watching a movie, idiot.
Unless Cree expected more. Jordan had said he’d make out with him. Oh, God. He’d said he’d make out with him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to make out with him. He did. He so did. But he had maybe embellished a little when he said he had experience with things outside of sex.
Fuck.
Should he move?
Before he had a chance to worry himself into an aneurysm, Cree’s hand landed on the back of his head, fingers threading through his curls.
Not gripping. Not guiding. Just there.
Jordan stilled, breath hitching despite himself.
Cree didn’t say anything.
He just stayed like that—fingers warm in Jordan’s hair, thumb brushing once, absently, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. Like touching Jordan was instinct, like he didn’t find just lying there with him boring.
Jordan exhaled slowly, his body giving in despite his racing thoughts. The noise of the storm against the glass faded. The house disappeared. The movie played on, forgotten almost immediately.
Could he hear how hard Jordan’s heart was pounding?
Could he feel how tense he was, how hot he felt?
Did Jordan smell okay? He’d showered and everything before they got there but now he was hyper-aware of everything—his own breath, the way his chest rose too fast, the faint drag of fabric where his hoodie twisted under him.
Cree’s body heat soaked into his, his fingers playing at the nape of his neck, the way the side of his thigh was pressed right against Jordan’s zipper.
Every point of contact felt loud.
“Relax,” Cree said softly. “We’re just watching a movie. I promise I won’t try anything.”
“What if I wanted you to?” Jordan said, then snapped his mouth shut, squeezing his eyes shut. “Forget I said that.”
The words hung between them, fragile and dangerous.
Cree’s fingers tightened in Jordan’s hair—not in a painful way or even a sexual way, but more in a way that anchored him, the hard tug soothing all of the frayed edges. Like Cree was physically holding him in place. Keeping him here.
“I won’t forget it,” Cree said. “But I also won’t act on it. Not tonight.”
“Oh,” Jordan said, feeling both relieved and disappointed. Both emotions landed heavy, tangled together in his chest.
“Don’t overthink it,” Cree said. “I haven’t earned the right to any part of you yet.”
“Earned?” Jordan echoed.
“Mm.”
Jordan’s brain turned that over and over again. What did that even mean? Was he a prize to be won? Was he saying he was worth waiting for? Was he saying he saw Jordan as something fragile? Or something valuable?
“You’re doing it again,” Cree said. “I won’t tell you to stop worrying. But I just want to lay here with you and watch this movie. Or if you don’t like this movie, we can find another. I just want to be with you. No pressure. No obligations. That’s all.”
Jordan’s heart did something complicated. “Oh.”
Something inside him loosened. Just a little.
Fuck it.
He nestled deeper against Cree, who set the phone down just long enough to bring the covers up around them.
Jordan’s socked foot made its way between Cree’s and after a few minutes, he’d melted into him, letting Cree’s fingertips on the back of his neck lull him.
The steady, absent motion felt hypnotic, like being stroked into stillness.
Overhead, the windows were coated with snow, making it seem almost like they were in a glass coffin, buried beneath the storm.
But they were cozy and warm and Cree smelled delicious—clean and faintly woodsy, something familiar and grounding—and the pads of his fingers were calloused where they soothed over Jordan’s skin.
For once, his thoughts went quiet.
He didn’t remember falling asleep.
But when he opened his eyes again, he was on his back and Cree was on his side, his head propped up on his palm, staring down at Jordan, his other hand resting on Jordan’s stomach.
Jordan sucked in a breath, temporarily confused—disoriented in that soft, floating way that comes from waking up somewhere safe. “Oh, god. Did I—I fell asleep, didn’t I?”
“Mm,” Cree said, his large hand warm even through the thick fabric of Jordan’s hoodie.
“Sorry,” Jordan said, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.
“That’s okay. I didn’t mind.”
Jordan stared up at him. “So, have you just been…watching me sleep?”
Cree nodded. “Is that creepy?”
“Yesterday I might have said yes,” Jordan admitted, “but today…not really.”
“You look really sweet in your sleep,” Cree said, almost conversational. “You make these cute little sounds and you sort of huff every so often. It’s like puppy breath.”