Chapter 5 Jordan
jordan
Atiny piece of my heart and self-confidence fractures like a chunk of an iceberg drifting away as I watch Kennedy walk out the door.
I couldn’t even muster up enough fucking courage to talk to her when she’s just here having a good time and not in an official ‘in charge of an entire airplane’ capacity.
Why can’t I just grow a damn pair and say any word to her other than hi?
! I run my hands through my hair, fighting not pull out every strand.
Maybe because I’m freaking scared shitless she won’t say anything back.
Or maybe I’m scared she will finally speak to me.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I rock back on my heels.
I wonder if I’m ready for that…if I’ll ever be able to trust a woman again.
Of course, I covered her tab. There is no way I’m letting the woman of my dreams leave my club paying a dime for anything.
I bought this club a while back and had it intentionally renovated.
I love investing in different businesses, especially in town, and this one had so much history in the community, I couldn’t let it fail.
I wanted to make sure it continued to be a staple for a long time.
But she doesn’t know I own it. I don’t think she knows much about me at all, actually, other than what she’s seen in the news.
If that was all I saw, I probably wouldn’t want to talk to me either.
It would have been so easy to just go over, say hi, and meet her friends.
Be the life of the party like everyone expects me to be.
I like Benny, and I wanted to say bye when I heard he was leaving.
I cringe, taking a sip of my soda water and lime.
Actually, I may have had a little to do with that.
I have a friend at NASA who helped speed up his application, so I knew this was coming.
I feel bad for Kennedy. I know they’re close, but Benny deserves this.
He grew up poorer than poor, working his way up from nothing.
I’m super happy for him, and of course, I wanted to pay the tab for his sake as well. But mainly, I wanted to do it for her.
“Jordan, can I ask you somefing…somefi…some. Thing,” Tay slurs, his eyes out of focus.
How many shots has he had? I flag down one of the waitresses and ask for a glass of water. He’s clearly hit his limit.
“What’s up, Tay?”
He darts his head back and forth, stumbling a bit.
“Tay, what the hell are you doing?”
“Shhhh…I’m making shhhure no one is around.”
I narrow my brows. “Bruh…we’re in a club full of people. There are people around us in every direction.” His face falls, and my heart sinks. “But it’s super loud in here, so I think you’re good. What’s going on?”
“I want to know why you can’t just ask her out already?” he asks, sounding as sober as any other day.
My eyes snap wide, my heart in my throat as a strangled laugh bursts from my chest. Does he know? “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Tay. I think that may be the tequila talking.”
He sways, staring at the door we both just watched Kennedy walk through. “Jordan Joseph Boucher. I know.”
My shoulders sink as sweat slides down my forehead. Oh shit. He knows. How does he know?!
“You have a thing for Kennedy.”
“You don’t know what you’re talki—”
“Yes, I do!” he snaps, staring me dead in the eye. “I know.”
“But…how?”
“Jordan, I know everything. I know you think you know everything, but I actually do. I have my sources. I have all the sources you could ever dream of.”
Holy. Shit. Every muscle in my body tenses. I didn’t want anyone to know. “Tay, please…please don’t say anything.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me. I’m not trying to spill your business. I’m just…confused. You’re the most confin…cofinan…con-fi-dent human being I know. Just ask her out already!”
“If only it were that easy,” I groan, shaking my head as I sip my drink.
“Have you seen how she reacts to me? I try to say hi when I get on and off the plane, but she just rolls her eyes. I don’t know what I’m doing.
I can’t…” I trail off, my gaze dropping to my feet, not knowing how to tell him about how fucking hurt I’ve been before.
“I just can’t find the right way to get her to notice me. ”
“Just go up and talk to her like you do everyone else. Despite your slightly annoying personality, you never know…she might like you. Someone always wants the runt of the litter.”
I glare at him down my nose, standing straight to remind him of the three inches I hold over his head.
He holds his hands up, tipping into my chest. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You know I love ya.”
My stomach flutters as his words finally sink in.
What if she could like me, if she actually got to know me?
Then another thought hits. A terrifying one.
My heartbeat is lodged in my fucking throat.
If Tay knows…do other people know? Shit.
Oh my God, is this somehow connected to the random texts I’ve been getting?
“Tay…wait…do you know anything about who’s been texting me?”
He looks at me with wide eyes. “What texts?”
“Bro, someone’s been texting me. Telling me to stay away from Kennedy.”
“WHAT? Bougie, that’s not cool. Have you told anyone? What if she’s in danger?” he whisper yells as if anyone in this club could hear him over the music. “Maybe she needs to know?”
The blood drains from my face. “No. I haven’t told a soul other than my dad and our head of security. Shit. I didn’t even think about someone hurting her. Fuck! I figured it was just someone who had…I don’t know…dibs on her?”
“Dibs?” Tay snorts. “Jordan, that is a completely misogynistic, antiquated, and ultimately ridiculous thing to say. You can’t have ‘dibs’ on a woman. They aren’t like the passenger seat of a car where you can just call shotgun.”
I chuckle as I take another sip of my drink. “I know, I just meant…maybe she already has someone in her life. I don’t know! I’m not like Hayes or Vladi or any of you. My social life…isn’t what it seems.”
He looks at me again, his eyes not blinking as if the tequila he’s drinking is a truth serum. “I know.”
I tilt my head. “What do you mean? What else do you know, Tay?! How deep does your espionage go?”
“You think I don’t know you’re not sleeping with all the women you’re photographed with?”
Fuck. This guy needs to join the CIA when he retires from hockey.
“Why do you act like you’re going out with all those women anyway? Especially when you and I both know there’s only one woman you’re interested in.”
“It’s…” —I let out a loud sigh, running my fingers through my hair— “…it’s fucking complicated. So complicated, I can’t get into this tonight.”
“Listen, all I’m saying is I know there’s more to you than the playboy image you project. You should let people see it more often.”
I swallow hard, his words hitting me like a hard check against the boards. “Seriously, who else knows about this?”
He tries to nudge me, tripping into the bar instead. “Don’t worry, Bougie. Your secret’s ssssafe with me.”
“That is one-hundo percent not what I asked you. Come on, Tay. Who else knows?”
“I cannot rev…refal…reveal my sources.”
I step closer, once again using the few inches I have to my advantage as he stumbles back a step.
“Fine. Maybe…maybe Johnny knows.”
Motherfucker. Johnny, the bartender at Walt’s, is the most caring and nosy son of a bitch around.
He’s everyone’s fairy godfather, meddling in their lives in order to get them together with their fated mate like he’s some magical spirit from the fictional world of Elfayne or something.
I should have known he would be in on this.
But, if he knows about me, I bet he also knows about Tay.
“Tell me, does Johnny know about your secret crush?”
Tay’s shoulders slump forward, his eyes dropping to the paracord bracelet he fiddles with. “I didn’t think you knew about that.”
“Seems like we’ve both been keeping some secrets,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, you know you can talk to me, right? I’m here if you need me. And let’s just keep all this between us for now. Well…us and that nosy-as-fuck bartender.” I snort as we clink glasses.
“Agreed. And Jordan? You know you can talk to me, too, right?”
“You’re a good guy, Tay. I hope we both get our happy endings at some point. Now, go celebrate your birthday with the rest of the group. Tonight is all about you!”
He smiles as he stumbles back to the rest of the group.
A loud sigh of relief escapes me. Maybe he’s right. I just need to go for it. Paparazzi are all over me, women are always hitting on me, why should I be scared to go for it with the woman of my dreams? I down the rest of my drink, dropping my glass on the bar with a clack.
What could possibly go wrong?