Chapter 20
Nora
Hi, Nora,” Sydney greets when I step into her office unannounced. “I’ve been thinking about you.” She rises from her seat to wrap me in a hug.
“Thank you for your texts the other day. They helped me get through.”
“That bad?” she asks.
“At first.”
Sydney leads me to the window seat, and we sit with our legs crossed, facing each other.
“I have to say, I didn’t expect to see you looking so…chipper.”
“Thanks?” I say with a laugh. “But I agree. I never thought he’d let me back in this quickly, if ever.”
“That’s great. Says a lot about his heart.”
“And another example of why he’s much too good for me.” A car leaving the parking lot in the distance catches my attention. I watch it for a moment, ignoring the argument Sydney’s making on my behalf. I love her for it, but I’m still reeling from the rollercoaster of the past forty-eight hours and don’t have the energy to think about myself.
“So,” she says, shaking my arm. “What happened?”
I chuckle. “You won’t believe me.”
“Oh. That sounds juicy.” Her hands slap together, fingers wiggling with excitement under her chin.
My thoughts jump to our intimate night together without good reason, and I shake it away. It’s the last place my brain should be going. “I asked if we could start over. Forget the last five years ever happened.”
“Perfect idea. I take it he agreed.”
“Without hesitation.”
“Because he still loves you?” Hope brightens her eyes. She really needs to stop reading so many romance novels. It causes unruly and unattainable expectations.
“I can’t speak to his feelings. We’ve been all over the place since he remembered. Whenever we make some headway, we circle back to another pain point. It’s excruciating.”
Sydney takes my hand. “What changed?”
“We got out of the house and had some fun. Ziplining,” I add. “Then, we just talked. I opened up about my past and told him as much as I could.”
“How did he react?”
“The way he does with everything. He was supportive and empathetic. Sweet and understanding. What?” I ask when I notice Sydney’s playful smile.
“I love seeing you in love.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it. There’s still so much to figure out.” I toss up my hands in annoyance and let them fall into my lap.
“You’re not still preparing to let him go, are you?”
“I have to.” With a huff, I pace to the other side of the room.
“I’m so confused.”
“I told him we’d never have a traditional family. He hasn’t told me yet if he can live with that. Right now, it’s not a big deal because there’s no commitment, and children are nowhere near the conversation. But what about a few years from now when he’s ready to settle down?”
“What about a surrogate?”
My arms cross defensively. This conversation took a hard left turn, and I’m struggling to keep up. “I don’t know. I’ve never considered having kids, so there was no point in looking into the whole egg thing.”
“And now?”
I shrug. “I wonder about it…occasionally…for tiny little seconds here or there when I allow myself to look deep into his eyes.”
With a few heavy steps, I drop onto the window seat and fall into Sydney’s embrace.
“What am I going to do?”
“Exactly what you’re doing. Take care of him, show him how you feel, and see what happens.”
“Sounds simple enough. But it is anything but simple.”
“Rarely is following your heart easy or a black and white endeavor.”
“You would know.” Sitting up, I collect the hands that have caught more tears than I’ll ever shed. Sydney’s heart has been through a meat grinder, yet her belief in the power of love holds true. If she believes my hollow heart can be warmed by and filled with love, then maybe I should believe it, too.
“And you know what?” she asks with an unsteady smile and a wink. “It’s always worth it.”
A knock sounds on the door before it opens.
“I thought I’d find you in here,” Lori, one of VETS’ front desk receptionists, says to me.
I shoot to my feet. “Is Jordan okay?”
“Jordan Jones? Oh, yeah. He just started his therapy appointment.”
“Good.” My hand, which had found my neck when my heart leapt into my throat, slid to my side in relief. “What’s up?”
“The temporary yoga instructor didn’t show.”
“Again? That’ll be the third class we’ve had to cancel. The temps are so unreliable,” Sydney complains.
I check the time on my phone. The next class starts in three minutes. “I’ll look into another company when I get back, but I can fill in today. Please tell the class I’m on my way.”
Lori nods, and I turn to Sydney, eyeing her ponytail. “Got an extra hair tie I can borrow?”
“Nope. But you can have this one.” She pulls the scrunchie from her hair, her long red waves falling over her shoulders.
“You really are the bestest friend ever.”
“I know.”
I give her a quick hug. “If you see Jordan before I’m finished—”
“I’ll let him know you’re busy melting hearts.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask with a little too much virtue to be believable. “It’s not hot yoga.”
“Ha. Maybe not, but I’ve seen the guys in your class. In a matter of minutes, they melt into puddles at your feet.”
“What can I say?” I shrug. “I’m good at my job. Glad I wore my good yoga pants today.” I wink as we walk out together, Sydney’s arm linking with mine.
“Ha. In that outfit, I worry about our sensitive grumps.”
I look down at the window of the baby blue V-neck specifically chosen to stir something inside Jordan. “It’s impossible not to show cleavage in V-necks, and if I’m going to do something, I’m going to give it one hundred percent effort.”
“Well, you, at full effort, is everyone else’s two hundred. So, go easy on them.”
“Never,” I declare, and duck into the classroom to greet my unsuspecting students.
◆◆◆
Jordan
“Stop. Please,” I ask of the therapy assistant, pushing my chair toward the lobby. We pause at the door of a small classroom beside the main fitness room.
I see Nora in the mirror talking with a man and laughing. He slides on a long, white coat before settling his hand on the small of her back as they make their way toward us. What is she doing in there with him?
“Hi,” she says, stopping just outside the door frame when she sees me. “I was about to come find you. Thanks, Liv,” she says to dismiss my guide.
“Saved you the trip.” My eyes dart to the Clark Kent double standing protectively tall beside her. Glasses, dark hair styled perfectly into place, sizable pecs protruding inside his T-shirt—royal blue, of course.
“Jordan,” I greet, reaching out my right hand.
“Henry,” he says casually in a subtle British accent as he shakes my hand. I smile at the irony, and he returns it, mistaking my amusement for friendliness. Nora, who knows me well enough to know the difference, is shooting laser eyes at me—the same kind Superman would use to slice cars in half. I flash her the same grin with a touch of I caught you, singeing the edges.
“See you next class,” Henry says, touching her elbow before strutting away.
Nora waits until he disappears into the doctor’s offices before whipping around to me. “What was that?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” I smirk, and her eyes narrow as she surveys me. “He thinks you’re hot.”
“And I think he’s a co-worker.”
“A hot co-worker. Does he always dress like that?”
“Like what?” she says with a sigh, taking hold of the chair handles.
“Like Clark Kent.”
“Who’s—” She pauses to let the pieces fall into place. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. And his name is Henry.” A guilty giggle bubbles out, and it’s the cutest sound. I’d like to record it to replay on cloudy days.
“I can’t either. Bet he has an entire wardrobe of blue shirts to bring attention to it.”
She pushes me out the door, stops on the sidewalk, and leans down to whisper in my ear, “Are you jealous of the Henry Cavill stunt double masquerading as a doctor so he can woo me into being his Lois Lane?”
“Great use of my word,” I say before getting back to the issue. “You noticed him flirting?”
“Hard not to.” She pushes the chair into motion. “He’s never subtle about it.”
“Never? This happens a lot?”
“Nearly every time I see him.”
“And he hasn’t asked you out?” Her silence provides all the answers I need. “Did you go?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Jordan, why are we talking about this?”
“Because friends talk about these things.” And I want to know if I have competition. Fitness model-like competition with several college degrees, investments, and a full wallet and passport. “Did you talk to Sydney about it when he asked you out?”
She let out a long breath. “Yes. But I don’t want to talk about it with you.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions. Are you excited about tonight?” she asks to change the subject, and now that I know this Superman isn’t her kryptonite, I’m happy to let her.
“Yes. It sounds fun. Is this a place I need to dress appropriately for or is it casual?”
“According to pictures on social media, it looks casual.”
“Good. A leg cast and shorts isn’t very uptown.”
After changing and grabbing a bite to eat, we hit the road. An hour into the trip when the comedy channel starts repeating skits, I switch it off and remove the sling from my left arm, tossing it into the back seat.
“What are you doing?” she asks, cutting her eyes at me for a moment.
“My therapist said I can remove it some each day to work the muscles more. And I plan to work it good tonight.” I pump my fist like Tiger Woods after sinking a long curvy putt.
A grin alters her lips slightly, just enough for me to know my charm is wiggling its way under her skin.
“Is that your touchdown dance?” She laughs, sending tingles down my body and straight to my midsection.
“No, I’m Tiger—doesn’t matter. The point is, I plan to be doing a lot of celebrating tonight.”
“The only point I see is you think you’ll need two hands to beat me at the tables tonight?” She graces me with another superior grin, and I’m glad her spunk is back. It’s my second favorite side of hers.
“Not even close, but it will be easier to collect all my chips.”
“Whatever.”
“It won’t be the same as our private card games, though.”
“I hope not.”
“We should play sometime,” I suggest, curious to see what she’ll say.
“Which game?”
“Any of them.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why not?” I turn in my seat to see her better. Her brows are pointed inward, and she’s frowning.
“They all involve getting naked or touching each other. Sorry, buddy, but I don’t touch my friends in a sexual way.”
She glances my way with a you-asked-for-this pout, and I want to kiss it right off her face.
“Good point,” I say instead to throw her off. “We’re starting over. New friends who know nothing about each other’s body parts and urges. Getting naked at this point in our budding friendship would make things weird.”
“Glad we cleared that up.”
“Me, too.” Giving my attention to the passing scenery outside my window, I shift to adjust the tightness in my shorts.
Damn mention of naked poker. What was I thinking? Now, I can’t stop thinking about her sitting cross-legged and bare and looking at me with her sexy eyes over a hand of cards. Memories of our games flash in front of me like I’m on a sadistic merry-go-round. If I don’t get off soon (pun intended), some parts of me might explode from the pent-up tension.
She turns off the highway, and I see a billboard for our destination, advertising it’s only twenty miles away.
Hallelujah.
“We have a long list of bucket items to check off. What are your ideas again?” I ask for something less dangerous to think about.
Her eyes brighten again as she recalls the list. “Caverns for cave diving. For the crazy steam engine one, I found a scenic train ride nearby which would be beautiful this time of year. Snow tubing for skiing in Vale. Any water sports will have to wait. I’m not getting in freezing water, and neither should you.”
“We’ll see.”
Her eyes circle to the ceiling and back. “We can go camping, maybe near a place with a waterfall for Niagara Falls.”
“I actually had an idea for that.”
“Yeah?”
Feeling brave, I take her hand and her gaze snaps to mine, holding there until the wheels drift over the road’s rumble strips. She yanks the car back into the center of the lane and keeps her gaze forward.
“How do you feel about going to the actual falls?”
“In New York?” she asks, surprised and skeptical.
“I may have told Josie that I would try to make it to her show this weekend. I was hoping you’d be up for it. Then, we can head up north afterwards to take in the real thing.”
“Shit, Jordan.” Her hand slips from mine to play with her bottom lip while she mulls it over, making my pulse dance.
“Think about it,” I say, letting her off the hook for now. “Use tonight as a trial run.”
“Okay.”