Chapter 2
Victoria
Almost getting raped and then being both rescued and comforted by Jordan freakin’ Palmer was not on this year’s bingo card.
Yet here I am with my face buried in his broad chest, his strong arms wrapped around my back as he whispers that I’m okay now.
How does he still smell so good? I’m almost positive he’s taller than before, and he was six-two when we dated. He’s definitely more muscular, having filled out in all the right places.
Why does it feel so good to be back in his arms?
The only reason I can think of is that I just went through something traumatic, so almost anyone would feel good in the aftermath. Right?
“We should probably get out of here before a woman comes in and freaks out that there’s a guy in here.”
“Right.” I quickly pull away and reach for a paper towel so I can wipe my face. I probably look like a disaster after crying off my makeup, and I don’t want to appear any more vulnerable than I already am in front of my ex.
“You going to be okay?” he asks after a moment.
“Yes. Thank you. Again. He just pushed his way in and had me against the wall before I could scream.”
“I know. I watched him follow you.”
Our eyes meet, and for a brief interlude, he’s the boy I fell in love with all over again. Dark-blue eyes, chiseled features, curly blond hair that’s always in need of a cut… For almost a year, he was mine. And I was his.
Then the spell is broken and he reaches for the door. “I’ll wait for you outside, just in case.”
“I just need a minute,” I say.
This entire evening has been a disaster.
From my car not starting to the zipper on the dress I was going to wear coming apart to my friends deciding to Uber, which meant I had to as well.
It cost money I don’t have, so even though I’m not driving, the unexpected expense means I can’t afford more than a few drinks.
My makeup is smeared and my eyes are a little puffy, but I don’t care anymore. I’m going home. It’s my friend Merrill’s birthday but she’s already three sheets to the wind and probably won’t even notice I’m gone.
I pull in a shaky breath, remind myself that I’m okay, and then step into the hallway.
As promised, Jordan is waiting, standing there talking to someone I don’t recognize.
“Thank you again,” I say quietly. “I think I’ve had about all the excitement I can stand for one night. I’m going home.”
“Probably a good idea.” Jordan nods.
“Could I ask for one more tiny favor?”
Jordan eyes me hesitantly. “Sure.”
“Could you stay with me while I wait for the Uber? I don’t want them to come back.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He looks at his friend. “I’m taking off—see you at practice.”
“Have a good one.” The other guy nods and moves off, leaving us standing there awkwardly.
I pull out my phone and open the app.
“Don’t call a car,” he says after a moment. “I’ll take you home.”
My eyes snap to his. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Come on. You’ve had a tough night. Last thing you need is to get into a car with a stranger.”
I hesitate. Not because I’m afraid of him, but more because I’m afraid of me. Of feelings that seem to claw their way to the surface any time I so much as hear his name.
And since he plays for the local pro hockey team, the Lauderdale Knights, his name comes up a lot more often than I’d like.
“Okay,” I say finally. “That’s very kind.”
“Let’s go.” He walks beside me as we head for the exit and I send a quick text to my other friend, Elise, letting her know I’m leaving.
“What do you drive these days?” I ask as we step into the warm South Florida night.
“A very boring SUV,” he responds, pulling some keys from his pocket.
Sure enough, he leads me to a big, black Escalade.
“That’s pretty big but not necessarily boring,” I agree, chuckling.
“It gets me where I need to go and has some fun bells and whistles.” He opens the passenger side door for me.
Like we’re on a date.
Can’t he just go back to being a jerk?
I sink into the leather seats and close my eyes. I’m suddenly exhausted. I don’t get out much. Between work and school and family obligations, I don’t have time for a social life. Tonight was an anomaly—one that almost went very, very wrong.
And like my own personal Lauderdale Knight in Shining Armor, Jordan was there when I needed him.
I hate him for how much he hurt me but there’s a tiny part of me that remembers how much I loved him. How good it was. How sweet and gentle and loving he was—until both of our worlds blew up.
That’s ancient history, though, and I have to keep that in mind.
“You remember where I live?” I ask after a moment.
“Still living with your parents?”
“Er, yes.” I nod, heat flooding my face even though I have nothing to be embarrassed about.
“I remember.”
He says it dryly like it’s a bad memory.
For him, it probably is.
Of course, he has no idea of the hellacious aftermath that rained down on me, and my family, after he walked away. That part wasn’t his fault, though.
I stare out at the busy Fort Lauderdale evening. It’s only eleven thirty on a Friday night, so there are cars and people filling the streets, shops, and strip malls. There’s almost always something going on—I’m just usually too busy to notice.
I pull out my phone and see a text from Merrill.
MERRILL: Where did you go? Ginny said you took off with some guy. LOL In all the time I’ve known you, you have never taken off with anyone. What’s the deal?
I close my phone and slip it back in my purse.
I’ll talk to her tomorrow, when she’s sober.
Tonight, I don’t want to talk about Jordan.
Especially not when he’s right beside me.
I’d forgotten what it was like to feel…protected. He might hate me but he’s still fundamentally the same guy he’s always been. Just a little older. And hotter. And more muscular. More everything I fell in love with in the first place.
Still can be an asshole, though.
I sigh, battling disparate emotions and wishing I’d never left the house tonight. It would have been so much easier to curl up in bed with a good book. Instead, I’m heading home after a disastrous evening, rescued by the one person whose name still makes my father’s face turn red.
He’s going to lose his shit if he recognizes Jordan.
But I don’t care.
He doesn’t have the same control over twenty-two-year-old me that he did over eighteen-year-old me.
Well, maybe a little since I live under his roof, but though I have no interest in rekindling things with Jordan, he did me not one but two solids tonight—I won’t let my dad say anything to him.
Hopefully, he won’t even see him since the windows of the SUV are tinted.
“So, uh, are you still in college?” he asks me as we wind through the city.
“Yeah.” It feels weird giving him these kinds of details.
What difference does it make? We’re never going to see each other again, so what’s the point? Small talk, I guess.
“Accounting,” I continue because the silence feels weird.
“Accounting?” There’s so much disbelief in his voice, I want to snap at him, but he’s doing me a favor taking me home.
“It’s reliable,” I say defensively. “I’ll get a good job after graduation. Make decent money, with benefits.”
“What about…fashion design?” he asks quietly.
Another sigh.
“It’s a lot more difficult to get a job in a field like that,” is all I say.
That much, at least, is true. I won’t mention my parents’ disapproval.
My father’s warnings that he won’t finance a degree for something frivolous.
And since the legal and medical fields don’t appeal to me at all, this was the best compromise.
“Your dad made you change majors,” he says, as if he knows anything about my life.
“He didn’t make me do anything,” I respond, biting back another snippy reply. What’s the point? He’s right even though he doesn’t need to know that. “It’s a smart, forward-thinking decision.”
“And you’re going to school here in Lauderdale.”
“It was cheaper to stay in state, and I got almost a full ride,” I respond.
“Gotcha.” He doesn’t say anything else and it’s probably better that way.
Within a few minutes, he’s pulling up to the house.
The same house where he picked me up dozens of times while we were dating during my senior year of high school.
His rookie season on the Lauderdale Knights.
It should have been the time of our lives.
Instead, I wound up skipping senior prom and not long after he got sent to the team’s minor league affiliate in Atlanta.
Not great memories for either of us.
“Thank you for the ride,” I say politely, reaching for the door. “I appreciate you saving my ass tonight.”
“You’re welcome.” His deep-set blue eyes find mine in the dimly lit vehicle. “Take care, Victoria.”
“Bye, Jordan.”
I’ve just stepped onto the driveway when the front door opens and Charlie comes running out. He shouldn’t be up this late but he hasn’t been sleeping well lately, and I’m the only one he wants when he’s wound up.
“You’re home!” He jumps right into my arms, and I spin him around.
“You should be in bed,” I say gently.
He giggles, burying his face in my shoulder. “Grammy doesn’t read the stories right.”
Bedtime stories tend to be my time with him.
“Well, let’s go take care of that right now.” I carry him back to the house and force myself not to turn around as Jordan pulls out of the driveway.