Chapter 12
Jordan
“Jor,” Liam whispers to me, voice hushed but animated. “Get up.”
My blood is still pumping furiously through my veins, my heart racing wildly. His mouth. His freaking mouth. Never in my wildest dreams did I think he’d be able to do it, but he did. Oh god, did he ever.
It has to happen again before Sunday.
“Jordan,” he hisses at me, using my rubbery legs for leverage to get up from the floor. “Jor, you gotta get up.”
The only reason I’m getting up from this bed is if he wants to bend me over something while he fucks me.
Wrapping my legs around his thighs, I pull him closer to the bed. My hope is to knock him off balance, so he falls down on top of me, but he grabs onto my hips with hard, firm fingers. There’s something frantic about the way he holds onto me that has the fog left over from my high lifting.
“Nate is at the door.”
The second the words are out of his mouth, there’s a heavy knock. One that I realize I heard moments ago but assumed was Liam doing something at the end of the bed.
Shooting straight up, Liam and I lock eyes. Panic explodes through me, my heart suddenly racing for a different reason. For what seems like a full minute we just stare at each other, a million questions and answers flowing between us without words. Then we’re scrambling.
He swipes the clothes on the floor and then heads toward the bathroom, but I grab his bicep, shaking my head vehemently.
“I’ll hide in the bathtub,” he whispers urgently at me.
“What if he goes in the bathroom?” I mouth, pointing toward the far side of the bed. “Go hide over there.”
“He’ll see me!” Liam waves towards the sliding mirrored door next to the bathroom. “I’ll hide in the closet.”
“That’s right beside the door, what if he looks in it?” I hiss, adrenaline coursing through my body. It’s a normal feeling for me given that I spend my days and nights working in the emergency department, something I’m suddenly grateful for in a way I never thought I would be.
“Why would he look in it?” he counters.
“Jordan!” Another bang on the door has us both wincing.
I urge him towards the other side of the room. “I’ll keep him on this side. Just get on the floor and stay there.”
Finally he relents, but before either of us get to where we need to go, he calls my name, causing me to turn back. A second later my shorts are sailing through the air, my hand coming up to catch them automatically.
Jesus. I almost answered the door without pants on.
Jumping towards the door as I pull them on, I nearly fall over. The wall catches my shoulder, though, causing me to grunt.
“Jordan! Open the goddamn door,” Nate says from the other side.
I’d be surprised if he hasn’t woken the entire floor by this point. With a glance over my shoulder to make sure Liam isn’t in sight, I finally pull the door open to my impatient brother.
My drunk impatient brother.
He takes one look at me and pushes his way into the room, giving me no choice but to back up a few steps, despite my protest.
“Nate! What the hell?”
“Who’s here with you?” he demands, poking his head into the bathroom.
“No one,” I lie, thankful he’s not looking at me to see the deceit in my eyes.
After his snooping in my bathroom, he goes to check the closet, but I slam a hand against the door before he can slide it open. “Nathan Miller! What do you think you’re doing right now?”
Nate’s eyes are glassy, but he seems to be functioning well enough. He’s definitely drunk though. And pissed. “Is it him? Is he here with you?”
For a millisecond I think my greatest fear has come true. Nate’s figured everything out between Liam and me, and he’s here to confront me about it. To catch us in the act.
He growls. “If Paul is in here, tell me right now because I will put my fucking foot straight up his ass and not feel guilty about it for one second.”
The emotional rollercoaster sends me straight into relief. If it weren’t for my hand on the closet, I may sag straight to the ground with how grateful I am that he thinks Paul was the one here. But then anger flashes inside of me.
“If you think I’d let that asshole anywhere near me after everything I’ve been through with him then you’re a bigger asshole than he is,” I snarl.
My reaction seems to startle him. He blinks a few times at me, his head tilting to the side, gauging my response. Finally he comes to his senses.
“You’re right. Sorry. I just…” He runs a hand through his dark hair. “I heard you in here and it smells like men’s cologne.”
Oh god. I don’t want to know what else Nate smells in this room. His fucking nose. I swear to god, I hate it. All I hear about all the time is how good Savanna always smells. It’s the hazards of living with them and their sickeningly sweet romance.
“Who’s in here with you?” Despite his sheepish expression, his tone is expectant. He wants an explanation. Too bad for him, he’s not going to like anything I have to say.
“Bob,” I tell him.
His brows furrow. “Who’s Bob?”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest as he puts his hands on his hips. The defiance in both of us would be comical if I wasn’t still panicking over the fact that I have Nate’s half-naked best friend hiding on the other side of my room.
“Nate, you can’t be that dense.” Taking a deep, exasperated breath, I let it out in a huff, trying to give off the impression that I’m annoyed rather than flustered. “Bob is my battery operated boyfriend.”
I see the second my words register in his head, and how he puts the puzzle pieces together. It’s probably slower than it would be if he were sober, but his grimace, and the reddening of his neck that quickly moves into his face, is hysterical.
I beam at him, having no scruples talking about this with my brother.
It’s better than the alternative.
“Jesus Christ.” Another hand through his hair as his face grows redder. “I don’t want to know anymore.”
I figured he wouldn’t. Which means I’m home free.
“Jesus. Did you even wash your hands?” he asks, freezing halfway through his hair ruffle.
“When was I supposed to do that? You were banging on the door pretty hard,” I respond, emphasizing the word “banging”.
“Christ, please don’t say it like that.”
“You were pounding on the door?” I clarify, choking back a laugh at the way his jaw clenches. Even his ears are red now. “Hitting it?”
“Stop!” he waves his hands in front of his face, signaling his surrender. “I don’t want to hear any more!”
With a smug smile, I gesture towards the door. “Great. Get out and you won’t.”
I think I’m in the clear when he starts to turn, but then he hesitates. “I may live to regret asking you this, but why does it smell like men’s cologne?”
In the time he first mentioned it until now, my brain has been working overtime to come up with answers to any questions he may throw at me.
So far I’ve done pretty good at lying by making it awkward as hell for him, but now I decide to go with the truth.
It seems like the easiest, simplest explanation.
“Liam stopped by to check on me when he got back.”
It does the trick. Instead of looking upset, Nate’s expression morphs into one of relief, every wrinkle smoothing out along his forehead. It’s as if this is the one thing that makes the most sense to him in the world. “Ah. Good.”
“Good because you told him to keep an eye on me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
He has the sense to look embarrassed, refusing to meet my eyes. “You heard that, huh?”
I give him a firm nod, waiting for him to offer some sort of explanation. It doesn’t take him long.
“Look, I’m just worried about you. It’s why I barged in here when I heard—never mind, we’re not talking about it.” Giving his head a quick shake, he sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I was worried.”
“Well stop worrying. It’s your wedding weekend; I don’t want you worrying about me.”
Nate chuckles softly. “That’s why I told Liam to watch out for you. So I didn’t need to worry.”
“And yet here you are,” I remind him.
He offers me a shrug. “I’m your big brother. I can’t help it.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes at him like I want to.
He’s got a point. Our entire lives he’s been looking out for me.
He’s been my protector for as long as I can remember.
It killed him to see me go back to Paul as many times as I did.
I can understand why it would be so upsetting to him to think I was in here screwing around with the guy.
Guilt eats at me when I think about who I was actually screwing around with. Liam being strictly off limits isn’t exactly a step up from Paul. More like a lateral step.
“Speaking of Liam,” he edges, a tinge of caution in his tone that catches my attention.
My heart leaps into my throat. “What about him?”
“He hasn’t been too…” He pauses, glancing around the room like the walls may have ears. Too bad he’d almost be right with that assessment. “Sexual with you?”
Thank god my arms are crossed over my chest. There’s no way Nate can see my hands clenched so hard my knuckles must be white at this point.
“Wha-what?” I stammer, needing clarification before I answer that. Does he suspect? Does he know? Did Savanna mention something to him?
The crimson color had started to dissipate from his face, but it climbs from his neck into his cheeks again.
“I know you guys have been spending a lot of time together at the bar lately, and we both know how Liam can be.” He shrugs.
“I just wanted to make sure he’s not crossing the line. I can talk to him if he is.”
Laughter bubbles up my throat, coming from deep within my chest. The line hasn’t just been crossed, it’s been completely annihilated, and I was an accomplice. “I can handle Liam.”
Nate really doesn’t want to know just how much of Liam I can handle.
A wrinkle appears between his eyebrows, his forehead scrunching up. “You sure? He can be a lot.”