Page 11 of Delay of Game

My thumb hovers over Jordan’s contact photo and I smile at how cute he is in it—arms wrapped around me, his mouth slightly parted as he sleeps. I managed to sneak a picture the night of my twenty-first birthday. The last time we were that close.

I don’t know if our almost-kiss that night made him pull away or if it was something else, but our friendship has been a little awkward ever since.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I push the call button, silently begging for the universe to swallow me whole.This is so embarrassing.

“Hello?” Jordan says in a deep voice, sounding a little distant.

“J, it’s me,” I say quietly. The sound of video game shooting in the background stops abruptly and I can hear the shift in Jordan’s voice as he realizes just who is on the other end of the call.

“Alice? It’s two in the morning. What’s wrong?”

“I, um—“ I mumble, my eyes stinging. I shouldn’t have called. He’s probably busy too. “I’m at a house party, somewhere downtown. I don’t have a ride home,” I say, sniffing back my tears.

“Okay, I’ll come get you. Can you go look at the house number? Maybe the street name?” he asks gently.

“I don’t think I can stand up right now,” I huff, annoyed at myself for getting so stupid drunk. “I played beer pong,” I say lamely.

Jordan chuckles but then sobers up quickly. “Are you alone? Did you drink from any other cups?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m okay, J, just drunk as a skunk.”

“Can you share your phone location with me?”

I place him on speaker, listening to the sounds of his breathing and shuffling as he’s getting into his car, and text him my location.

“I’ll be right there, I’m only ten minutes away, okay? Go sit on the curb please so I can see you when I pull up.”

“Okay, thank you,” I say, and make my way to the front of the house.

Eight minutes later, Jordan pulls up, and before I even have the chance to stand up, he’s out of his car and slinging my arm around his shoulder, grabbing a firm hold of my waist. The touch of his hand on my bare skin where my crop top rides up is scorching hot, and I take a deep breath so I don’t say something stupid about how much I want him.

“Watch your head,” he says as he opens the door and helps me into the passenger seat.

“Thank you for coming,” I say, giving him a sad smile and tucking my hair behind my ears, silently praying I won’t barf in his car.

“Of course. Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again.

I shrug. “I just drank too much. Beer is awful anyway, why do guys like it so much?”

Jordan chuckles and starts the car. “I’m more of a whiskey guy myself, so I couldn’t tell you.”

The drive to my apartment is slow as Jordan does his best not to jostle me too much, making sure I don’t get sick again. I’m still wobbly on my feet as he helps me up the three flights of stairs and into my apartment.

There is no sign of my roommates and I sigh a breath of relief, making a beeline for the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I come out, Jordan hands me aspirin and a bottle of water, making sure I stay hydrated. If I didn’t have a major crush on him already, this would be the moment I would develop one.

“Why are you so perfect?” I ask, swaying on my feet.

Jordan’s hands easily steady me, his large palms making contact with my waist again. “I’m not,” he says, frowning. “Which room is yours?”

I point down to the end of the hall and Jordan guides me to my room, flipping the switch that turns my string lights on. The room is cast in a soft yellow glow, accentuating the cream-colored walls. Stacks of books surround my headboard and nightstands, after I ran out of room on my shelves.

I watch Jordan as he takes in my space and the soft smile on his face warms me up inside. Does he like what he sees?

“This is exactly how I’ve pictured your room,” he says as he gently sits me down at the edge of the bed.

“You’ve thought about me in my room?” I ask, voice coming out more sultry than I intended.

Jordan sucks in a breath and meets my eyes as he crouches down in front of me, hands on my calf and moving down in a featherlight touch.

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