Page 27 of Fight for You
Anyway, truth be told. I didn’t fall for any woman who sauntered by me with an hourglass figure—Jordyn had that. Man, she was the definition of the perfect shape. The real solid truth was that some people like me just didn’t fall in love witheveryone.
A sense of duty made me see Jordyn at the Chelomey estate. I mean, I really saw Jordyn. Broken. Radiant. Fierce and trembling as she thrust a rake into that dog’s mouth. I might’ve named itrespectthen. But in the last six torturous weeks of her hating me from afar, something else crept up on me.
Silence can do something with the mind. The head. And what I felt for Jordyn didn’t just stir me physically. Didn’t just move my heart—it rattled every bolt in my soul.
And worse … it stirred other parts of me.
Parts that had been silent my entire life. Parts that never evenconsidered coming alive for dirty magazines. There was a time I’d been desperate to prove I’d grown into a man and that I could conform, so I’d bought magazines. More magazines than I could count. All at one time.
Different races. Different sizes. Different fantasies. Nothing worked. Except, I noticed some of the magazines had a better grade of paper.
I wrung the towel, buying myself time to think. We should’ve been unpacking what happened to her this morning. The assault. The trauma. Instead, I’d somehow become the topic. My sexuality. Feelings. My fascination with Jordyn.
“I know you guard your heart now, JorJor.” The words came out in my deep voice, low and guarded. “I mean Jordyn.”
“You can … uh, call me that if you want,” she murmured.
Good. I saw it as a name for her that only I had. “You’ve got every reason to. But deep inside, I gotta believe you’ve got the same beautiful heart. The one I saw in that cage.”
Jordyn’s gaze locked onto mine. Something wordless passed between us.
And just like that, I couldn’t take it anymore. I handed her the towel and stood, trying to ignore the fire of passion burning in my veins. Every muscle screamed to flee.Before you say something stupid.Before you do something stupid.
Like taking advantage of a beautiful woman who didn’t yet know how to love herself.
I’d never felt this way about anyone. Even when I was younger, I couldn’t understand when Rory, twenty-six now, I believe, told me about the girl he’d fallen in love with one week as opposed to the girl he fell in love with the previous week. He’d been in high school then and spoken with such a light in his eyes. I wanted to believe him.
And I’d felt nothing until … Jordyn.
God help me, I felt everything now.
Not just because of her beauty. Nae. She was beautiful in ways that wrecked me, but her soul called to mine. Her voice when she laughed while chatting with other people on the beach. Abeach read? Never heard of it until she engaged in a deep discussion, exchanging titles with a woman about a week back.
And the way Jordyn breathed when she slept, like she was at peace, even though when she awoke, she’d glare at me like this was a war. If she could remember the girl she was—brave, kind, unshattered—she’d be the whole package. Everything I never dared to dream of.
Still rooted to the marble floor, I told her, “Tell me something. Anything. Even if it’s juvenile.”
Jordyn’s mouth corked. “Okay. Color. Easy. Burnt Orange. Well …”
“Well, what?”
“It was the favorite color of someone I once knew. Katlego”
I nodded, filing that away for later like an operative logging details in a mission dossier. I wasn’t jealous. I didn’t do jealous. I just … took a note. A simple note which included expiring the guy if necessary. “Blue,” I offered. “Dark blue.”
“Boy, clearly, you don’t know how many forms of blue there are?”
“Sky blue. Baby blue. Dark Blue?” I smirked. “Dark blue wins.”
“There are more than 160 distinct shades.”
“Learn something new every day.” I folded my arms, trying to appear unfazed. Inside, I was unraveling.Man, she’s killing me.
I cleared my throat again, just excited that Jordyn was speaking to me. “You’re a book girl. So, favorite beach read? That’s what you read, right? We can listen to audiobooks or even watch a movie. One could live ahunnerlifetimes through either.”
“Ahundred.” She chuckled.
That laugh. I would’ve set the world on fire to hear it again. “Don’t laugh at me, girl,” I replied, hoarse. “Now, what books do you read?”
