Chapter 28 – Jaxon
TWENTY-EIGHT
JAXON
Wilder is in another intense game of pool when I get back to the table, oblivious that his date left out the backdoor. A fresh beer is waiting next to Chase’s keys.
“For me?” I ask Cooper, thankful I had some semblance to fix my hair before waltzing back out here. He nods as I slip into the barstool.
“Did you see Jordan back there?”
I shake my head no. “Was she going to the bathroom?”
“Don’t know, she didn’t say. Her phone was blowing up, and then she left. I know her ex won’t leave her alone.” That has my blood boiling. Hasn’t her ex already done enough? What could he possibly have to say to her now?
“Maybe she went home,” Sutton offers.
“Maybe. I should check on her.”
“You stay.” I set down my beer. “I have a paper to finish and should get going. I can swing by her dorm to see if she’s there.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” Keys in pocket, I’m already scooting the chair in. “I’ll text ya.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m turning off my phone after firing a text to Cooper letting him know Jordan’s safely at home. She’s casually leaning against the frame of her bedroom door, waiting for me.
The drive here was agony. Blocks passed by and all I wanted to do was taste her again, hear my name roll off her tongue, pin her beneath me. Looking at her now, covering the distance between us, those urges heighten.
She presses up on her toes to kiss me, fumbling over the threshold of her room. I’ve been to her dorm a handful of times but never in her room. Never had her like this either, but dreamt of both. Curious to what she’s like, who she is when she’s not putting on a persona.
Moonlight bathes the space with enough light to see Jordan and make out her standard issued university furniture—a bed, desk, and wardrobe.
Her butt hits the bed with a giggle. Light and airy. She giggles again and I memorize it, capture it within a kiss and wonder if I could bottle it up. Shooting an arm out, Jordan turns on her bedside lamp. Like her, the room comes to life.
It’s…far more girly than I would’ve anticipated. Mismatched patterns, soft lines, cozy accents, and lots of throw pillows. It’s fascinating yet distracting. I feel like I’ve stepped inside a museum and everywhere I look there’s something new to see.
Nestled in the center of her mountain of pillows is a hippo. I reach for the stuffed animal, bringing him within her line of sight.
Jordan immediately snatches him from my grasp. “Careful with him. He’s had several surgeries in his lifetime.”
“He?”
“Don’t laugh. I was three when I named him.”
“Let me guess the hippos name is Hippo.”
“Mr. Hippo.” She squeezes him to her chest. “He’s more distinguished than just Hippo.”
“My apologies.” My smile is sly. I run a pinky down her arm. “Are hippos your favorite animal?” Jordan gives me a look that says are we really talking about this right now.
I slink off her bed, for the second time getting on my knees for her. Taking her right foot, I unzip the midcalf boot, then slide it over her ankle.
“One of them,” she tells me as I pick up her left foot, repeating the process with the addition of a kiss to a freckle on the inside of her knee. “I like kangaroos too. They’re unique, maybe the most unique in my opinion, once you get through the misconceptions about them.”
“Like what?” I’m intrigued.
“For starters, they can’t move backward and are proficient swimmers.
” She sighs as I pull off the boot, setting it with her other one.
I tug off her socks, pressing my thumbs into the soles of her feet in a circular motion.
Three-inch, four-inch, kitten, whatever she had on after the practice we had today is impressive.
How women manage to wear anything with a heel is another reminder that they are superior.
“And”—another sigh—“their tails hold their entire weight when they fight.”
“Maybe you should be a zoologist,” I tease, working my hands up her calves.
“Thought about it. Even asked my mom if I could dye my hair red or move to Africa to be like Eliza Thornberry.”
“Living in an RV?”
“After a summer road trip in one? No, never again.”
“Sports journalism it is. Where did you get Mr. Hippo?”
I’m leaning over her, fingers undoing the button on her denim skirt. Jordan lifts her hips, helping me undress her as I listen to her tell me about getting Mr. Hippo and leaving him at the zoo in one of the cities her dad was playing in. There’s a soft, innocent smile on her face the entire time.
I realize as I stand that she’s falling asleep. Eyes fluttering closed and words drifting off.
The bed dips beneath my weight. I push a strand of blue hair behind her ear, gently nudging her shoulder. “Blue.”
“Mhm.”
“You’re falling asleep.” I kiss her forehead.
“No, I’m not.” There’s my stubborn, sassy girl. “I’m awake. I want to—” Jordan yawns. “I want to make you feel good too.”
I tuck another strand of hair behind her ear. “Trust me, you have. I’m gonna head out, okay?”
“But-but this is only tonight.”
“Who said that?”
“I…” Brown eyes with a ring of gray around the iris eyes open on me. “I just thought—”
“Do you want it to only be for tonight?”
“No.” She shakes her head.
“I don’t either.” I kiss her temple.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I stand. “Where’s your pajamas?” She points in the direction of a dresser. I rummage around till I find a drawer stuffed with oversized shirts and cotton sleep shorts, pulling out what I think matches, and setting it beside her on the bed. “Here.”
“Thank you.” Another smile graces her face, and it takes everything in me not to pull out my phone and take a picture. “And thank you for the orgasms.”
I snort a laugh. “You’re welcome.”
“Good night, Greene,” she calls when I’m in the doorway. “Don’t dream about me too much.”
“I will.”