Page 71 of Limbo

He flips my wrist over and circles a section of sidewalk on the far-left side with his finger. “Right there, Callie met Jordan.”

Another reason to love the old part of campus.

I smile and pin the picture back in place next to another of Trey at an amusement park. The last trip we went on together before I left for school, celebrating him becoming an official sheriff’s deputy.

A tug at the hem of my T-shirt brings my attention to Jordan.

“The shirt has to go, beautiful.”

My chest flutters. I missed him calling me that.

As for the shirt, I shrug and stick up my arms. If he no longer wants to look at his face on my chest, he can fix the problem himself. He doesn’t hesitate to peel it off. My mouth crashes into his as he pulls me toward him. I press my hand to his chest, backing him up until he sits on the bed. I drag his shirt over his head and crawl onto his lap, straddling him. He moves his hands up my back. I have no idea how I’ve gone this long without his hands on me.

“Pretend I said something funny,” he says, a sense of panic in his tone.

I trail my fingers through his hair, my mind not functioning on a conversational level. “What?”

“The blood supply to my brain is lacking, but I want nothing more than to see you smile and hear you laugh right now. So please pretend I made a hilariously witty comment about pheasants or acorns or anything as long as you find it funny.”

“Acorns?” I ask, a laugh bubbling up.

But it cuts off when he slams his mouth into mine, his hands framing my face. I forget all about acorns when his tongue pushes into my mouth. I forget about everything.

He lies back, pulling me down with him. I slide my hands up his hard chest and kiss my way to his neck. The tip of my tongue travels over his skin, and a husky groan vibrates through his throat. He grabs my ass and shifts his hips into me, grinding into me. I whimper, feeling how hard he is between my legs, and I need more.

A car door shuts. It sounds faint enough that I convince myself a neighbor slammed theirs down the block, but then the front door creaks open. I stop and straighten up, touching my lips where the sensation of his remains.

“No,” Jordan says. “No. No.”

Even though he continues to beg me with his eyes, I crawl off and toss him his shirt. “Think about baseball or a car accident or—”

“Nana Waters.” He sits up, less than enthused.

I smile at his pouting and retrieve a top from my bag. “Think about Nana Waters then. The monster descends upon us.”

As he pulls his shirt on, I peek back for one last glimpse of the gorgeous guy on my bed. If not for the footsteps stampeding down the hall, I would lock the door. Instead, I open it, and in barrels Cate. She bypasses me, sights set on her prey. Before he can react, she climbs onto his lap, squishes his cheeks between her hands, and kisses him on the forehead.

She sits back on her heels. “Hi.”

Completely unaware of what he’s gotten himself into, Jordan replies, “Hi.”

She giggles and grips his shirt to keep from falling when she hangs back to see me. “Can we keep him, Cal?”

I bite my lips together, doing my best not to laugh and encourage her.

Connor leans on the doorframe next to me. He crosses his arms and tries not to crack up as well. His head shakes to clear the hair out of his eyes. “Come on, Monster. You left your coat on the floor.”

Cate’s dismount deserves top scores. She twirls past me, through the door, and keeps spinning down the hall.

Connor kicks off the doorframe and nods at Jordan. “Nice to finally meet you, Lover Boy.”

Unimpressed with the revival of the nickname, I slap at his arm, but he knocks my hand away.

“Pizza for supper?” I ask.

“Whatever,” he says, walking away.

He gives me a grin before ducking into his room, and I roll my eyes.

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