Three
KATRINA
The texts started before I even made it home, lighting up my phone in the dark as I sat in the passenger seat of Savanah’s car.
Gordon: I enjoyed your company tonight. Looking forward to next Friday.
Me: I’m sorry, who is this?
Gordon: Very funny. Seriously, tell me I can see you Friday night. Pick me up at the airport, and I’ll buy you dinner.
I stared at the message longer than necessary, my thumb hovering over the keyboard while I contemplated what to say.
Something playful enough to hide the fact that didn’t make it seem like I was already smiling like an idiot.
But my mind went blank. Part of me knew I was going to say yes. I could feel it before I admitted it.
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Savanah asked, her focus never leaving the road.
The thought of seeing him again had me squirming in my seat. I felt reckless, like standing too close to the edge wondering if I was going to fall over. “No,” I said, already knowing what my best friend was thinking before she even opened her mouth.
“You know this has disaster written all over it.” She spoke in a lower voice.
As much as I wanted to deny it, my inner voice agreed with my best friend. It sure is, cause you just met him. Nothing good will come from you hooking up. I quickly silenced the nagging chatter but it didn’t stop my fingers. Before I could talk myself into being reasonable, I texted him back.
Me: What airline? What time?
Gordon: Southwest, 8:00 p.m. I can’t wait, Katrina. Good night.
I was flustered all day at work. My nerves stayed on high alert, vibrating beneath my skin like a secret I couldn’t silence.
My stomach kept doing slow somersaults as the hours dragged by, each tick of the clock making Friday night feel farther away.
By the time I stood in front of my mirror, I was already a hot mess.
The dress I had on clung in all the wrong places.
I wasn’t feeling it. Behind me, clothes lay scattered across my bed—jeans, blouses, a sundress I had loved ten minutes ago but despised the second I put it on.
I’d changed at least five times. Maybe six.
I didn’t know why I couldn’t make up my mind.
Was I trying to look sexy or casual? In the end, I pulled on a pair of black denim pants and a red tank top with a plunging neckline.
Subtle, quiet, but still begging to be noticed.
The kind of outfit that didn’t scream look at me but still wouldn’t let him look away.
I arrived thirty minutes before his flight landed, which gave my nerves far too much time to run rampant.
I stood among families, husbands, and wives waiting for their loved ones to come through the arrival gate, trying to look like I belonged there and not like I was some agitated leopard waiting to pounce on her prey.
The air smelled like burnt coffee and stagnant air.
Everything around me was closed for the evening.
Gordon’s flight being the last to arrive for the night.
Every time a new group of travelers strolled past the security checkpoint, my stomach sank.
I dragged my palms up and down my thighs to wipe away the sweat, then I’d do it again when it came right back.
Once they were dry, I had no clue what to do with them.
I stuffed my hands in my front pockets. It felt awkward so I moved them to my back pockets, then rocked on the balls of my feet while the anticipation lingered between each breath I took.
Then I saw him. Gordon passed through security with a duffle gripped in his hand and slung over his shoulder.
For one second, everything around me blurred—the crowd, the noise, the wheels of the rolling suitcase cling over the tile floor.
Then his eyes found mine. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face, and my breath caught.
His pace picked up. I stood frozen. He came toward me like he had already knew what he wanted, and before I could form a single thought, he dropped his bag on the floor, reached up—grasping my face and then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss came fast, hungry, and unexpected.
I melted before I could stop myself, caught somewhere between being shocked and wanting to climb him in the crowded airport.
When he pulled away, I was breathless and more flustered than I wanted him to know.
He reached for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine before tugging me after him toward the sliding doors leading to the parking lot.
“Show me the way, darlin’,” he said with his slow southern drawl rolling over me until my knees went weak.
Luckily, I hadn’t parked far. I dug my keys from my pocket, ready to hit the unlock button, but Gordon plucked them from my fingers before I could press it. His thumb brushed mine, just enough for my breath to catch. “You okay with me driving since I know where we’re going?”
I opened my mouth, but whatever answer I had planned to give, disappeared the second he looked at me.
“I… I guess.” Smooth, Katrina. Real smooth.
I never let people drive my car. Ever. Especially not men I barely knew.
But Gordon was asking like he already knew I’d trust him, and the worst part was, I did. Or at least, I wanted to.
Gordon opened my door and waited while I slid inside, his eyes lingering just long enough to make heat crawl up my neck.
Once I was settled in, he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side, opening the back passenger door to toss his bag in like he’d done it a hundred times before.
He climbed in, clicked his seatbelt into place, and turned toward me.
“You look beautiful, Kat. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t sure you were going to show up tonight.
” His voice dropped lower, softer, wrapping around me before I could figure out how to respond.
Leaning across the console, he slid his hand to the nape of my neck and drew me close enough for his warm breath to brush against my lips.
He kissed me again, slow enough to make me forget we were still parked outside the airport. “I’m so glad you did, darlin’.”
The engine roared to life, and just like that we were gone.
He merged onto the 202 heading toward the East Valley, one hand resting on the wheel, the other draped over the gearshift like he owned the road.
I watched the city lights streak past the window, wondering where he was taking me.
In his last text, he had said he had a special place he wanted to show me, so when he pulled into a small, single-level apartment complex with six units, I sat up straighter.
The building looked worn out. Old white painted block, blue paint peeling and chipping on the fascia.
The weeds stood tall in the overgrown lawn that hadn’t been mowed in a weeks. My stomach tightened.
“Where are we?” My voice was terser than I meant it to be, but I needed answers.
“My mom has dinner waiting for us,” he replied, like that was the most normal thing in the world.
My stomach rolled over. As excited as I was to spend time with Gordon, meeting his mother and brother was not on the list of things I had prepared myself for tonight.
I could handle dinner. I could handle flirting.
I could even handle the way he kept looking at me like he wanted to ruin every reasonable thought I had left.
But family? That felt like a door I hadn’t agreed to open yet.
Uneasy apprehension crept slowly up my spine, cold and deliberate. Gordon must have seen it cross my face.
“Hey,” he said, his tone soft as he reached over and squeezed my hand.
“It’s okay. Don’t read more into this than what it is.
My mama is making her son, who she rarely sees, dinner.
I told her you’re just a friend and nothing more.
” Gordon flashed me that same smile from last week, the one dangerous to my sanity.
The smell of something savory filled the air the moment we stepped inside. Gordon kept his hand at the small of my back as he guided me in, his touch impossible to ignore. “Mom, this is my friend Katrina. Darlin’ this is my mom, Ginger.”
I smiled and extended my hand, trying to look like I hadn’t just been ambushed by a family dinner. “Very nice to meet you, Ginger.”
Ginger looked to be in her mid-forties, with yellow-blonde hair that had clearly lost a fight with a box of dye.
She was a little on the heavier side, dressed in clothes that looked worn from years of washing and wearing over and over again.
Before I could decide if she was going to shake my hand, she took it, pulled me straight into her arms, and hugged me like she’d known me for more than five seconds.
“I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to meet you as well. ”
I looked over Ginger’s shoulder at Gordon and raised a brow, silently asking what the hell he had told his mother. He leaned against the wall, then winked at me like he knew exactly how badly he was getting to me.
Dinner surprised me. It was easy in a way I hadn’t expected.
The table was filled with laughter, teasing, and stories about Gordon as a child that had him groaning into his plate.
Ginger enjoyed every second of embarrassing her son.
Somewhere between the second helping she’d scooped onto my plate and a third story about Gordon getting into trouble, the tightness in my chest subsided.
By the end of the night, I wasn’t sitting in a stranger’s apartment anymore.
I was sitting at the table, smiling until my cheeks hurt and feeling like I was in the home of someone I had known my whole life.
Ginger had a way of making you feel right at home, even with the peeling paint outside and the old furniture inside.
And each time I caught Gordon looking at me, I could see the heat in his eyes, promising me the night was just the beginning of something bigger than the both of us.