Page 90 of Own the Eights
“You are so the reigning Emperor of Asshattery,” she grumbled.
“And I thought you were going to run this race,” he replied, gesturing with the opened tube of dough.
“I am running!” she barked.
“That’s a power walk, Georgie.”
“Gah!” she cried, then turned to the CityBeat producer on her other side. “This is running. I’m running, right, Barry?”
“Well…” the man answered with a nervous expression.
These stupid men!
“Georgie, I’m not here to critique your power walking,” Jordan said, then shook his head as she threw daggers at him with her eyes.
“Running! I meant running. I’m not here to critique yourrunning. I’m here because I love you.”
Love?
Her trifecta swooned and clutched each other, but Georgie wasn’t about to fall for this.
“You’ve got a really funny way of showing it. And stealing my last tube of cookie dough isn’t doing you any favors.”
“Georgie, please, let me explain,” he said just as a voice rang out from the spectators lined up along the side of the road.
“Sixty-nine isn’t just a sex position, Georgie!”
“Jordan loves you, Georgie!” another voice cried.
She stopped. The finish line was in sight, but she needed to know what the hell these people were yelling about.
“What’s going on, Jordan? And why are people calling out sexual positions?”
“Because of sixty-nine, Georgiana,” he answered, his voice cutting through the air and quieting the boisterous crowd.
Holy crazy man! Maybe Jordan had lost his mind. Maybe he’d done one too many of those teakettle lifty thingies and blew a gasket.
An eerie quiet set in as Barry continued recording and Jordan pulled out his phone.
“I wrote something for you. Will you just listen to me for a minute?”
She crossed her arms. “Make it fast. I have to finish this damn race and then stop at the grocery store for another tube of cookie dough.”
Jordan released a shaky breath. “Okay, are you ready?”
She glanced around. No one moved a muscle. The other race participants were either staring at them or looking at their phones. Even the damn breeze stilled as if nature herself wanted to listen.
“Yes, I’m ready,” she said, completely not ready.
Jordan swallowed hard. “Dear Georgiana, sixty-nine isn’t just a sexual position. It’s our overlap. It’s the statistical proof that we were never polar opposites. I may have started out in this competition as a ten. I may have preached the benefits of the Marks Perfect Ten Mindset to anyone who’d listen. But what’s the point of being a ten when the woman I love wants an eight?”
Emotion flooded her chest. “Why are you saying this?”
He held her gaze. “Because I mean it. I was a colossal idiot. I lost track of what was really important. I screwed up my priorities.”
She willed her bottom lip not to tremble. “I know. I heard you agree with Deacon when he said I was a distraction.”
Jordan shook his head. “No, you were never a distraction. I was off track. But it wasn’t because of you. You, Georgiana, you are my priority. And you were right. Deacon didn’t have my best interests at heart. But you know who did?”
