Page 42 of Limbo

The door to the suite almost hits Jordan when I rush in. The couch, the floor, the guy could sleep anywhere and look incredible in the morning.

I smile, not even voluntary anymore, and walk around him. “Good morning, beautiful.”

He shuts the door behind me. “You steal my line and my move on my birthday? Have you no shame?”

Felicia relieves me of the drink carrier, and I take him his special blend.

“I think you’ll find my coffee delivery service adds an extra pep to your step.” I wink at him and hang up my coat.

As he sips, he follows me to my room. We tear down the blanket fort, returning everything to its rightful place, in no time at all. Every now and then, he catches my eye and smiles. Each time, I wonder if it is the last time.

He waits on Cam’s remade bed while I pack for the weekend. Facing away from him, I text Felicia so that she can help me get him out of the suite. Her gorilla power will come in handy when he ultimately tries to argue. She clears her throat from the other room, signaling she’ll act as my muscle.

“Time to go, Jordan.” I grab his hand to lead him out.

He drags his thumb back and forth over my skin, the touch traveling all the way through me. Christ, I need him to figure out his shit over the next few hours.

“You can’t kick me out on my birthday,” he says.

I force myself to pull my hand from his and open the door. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“No, you’ll see me after—”

He never sees Felicia coming. She drops her shoulder, drives him through the door, and swings it shut before he recovers. The combination of looks on his face and hers makes me cackle as she returns to the couch like nothing happened. I go into my room and pick up one last pillow lodged under the bed before crossing out another day on my calendar. My last day with Jordan, and I’ll barely see him.

Damn it.

The thought sends me dashing out the door after him, not sure of what I’m doing. I spot him about to leave the building and call his name. Just shy of the door, he turns around, smiling when he sees me on the stairs.

It would be so easy to kiss him and end the stalemate. Then he would admit to the stupidity of the challenge and tell me everything I wanted to hear. We’d run up to my room and spend the entire day under the blankets, the rest of the world be damned. He wouldn’t leave with his friends, I wouldn’t go to Graham’s, and we could just be there—the two of us.

Except if I start kissing him, I won’t stop even if he says nothing of the sort.

So, rather than risk being another conquest to mark off the list, I stop in front of him. “Say it.”

He smiles. “I’ll see you later, beautiful.”

I pull his face down until his lips touch my forehead. Then I let go and step back, swiping the cup from his hand. “You were done with this, right?”

Before he answers, I dash up the stairs, finishing the coffee on my way.

We’ve reached the end of our game.

Why would I ever trust a group of musicians to show up on time?I ask myself this question several times, sitting on the hood of my car in the parking lot. The only answer I come up with: I’m an idiot.

A faint roar grows louder, and as the ugliest station wagon in existence rumbles down the block, I imagine “Flight of the Valkyries” is playing somewhere. Driven by Benji, the faded brown clunker—exactly what I pictured him owning—slows. The back-passenger door opens, and someone pushes Jordan out of the still-moving car. The three guys still in the vehicle wave, driving away.

I slide off the hood. “Day drunk?”

“Day buzzed,” he says.

My eyes roll in response to the more than buzzed grin on his face.Thanks for nothing, guys.

I walk to meet him at the back of the car. “I need to go.”

When he reaches me, he slides his arms around me and dips his head to nuzzle against my neck. It takes me by surprise and would knock me backward if not for his hold on me. I clasp my hands behind his neck, feeling his lips brush over my skin. I want it to be real, more than I should.

“Is this just about sex?” The question tumbles out and hangs there.

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