Page 77 of Yours to Lose
“It is. The most beautiful thing.”
Something in Jordan’s voice has butterflies exploding in my stomach, my head turning to meet his gaze. Because he’s not looking at the fireworks. He’s looking at me. His pupils are blown; streaks of color from the sky above are reflected in the dark orbs. I’m moving before I realize it, sliding my hands out from under Jordan’s and turning in the circle of his arms. His expression is heated and determined, with a touch of vulnerability that matches the enormity of this moment.
I know, without consciously knowing, that this is when everything changes. And when Jordan moves just a little closer, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear with a tenderness in his touch, I know he feels it too.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” I whisper, our faces inches apart. Jordan’s hand cups my cheek, and my hands move to his waist, the heat of him seeping through his shirt and warming my palms. “It’s okay if you aren’t, J. You’re important to me, and I want you to be sure.”
Jordan’s eyes search mine, and in his gaze, I see gratitude and heat and something else that has my heart beating madly. He strokes his thumb over my cheekbone, his eyes never leaving mine as he speaks. “Hurricane, I haven’t been sure of anything in more than two years, but I’m sure that you are my very best friend. You’re fun and caring and full of joy and so beautiful it makes my chest ache. I was barely living, but then you found me and brought your Fireballs and your sunshine and your wild ideas and the best summer I’ve had in years, and I started living again. I never thought I would be ready. The idea of opening myself up to someone a second time terrified me. But it’s you, so it turns out it’s not so scary after all. You’re important to me too, Jo Jo. I’m ready, and I really, really want to kiss you.”
I stay quiet for a beat, soaking in his words. Memorizing this moment.
And then.
“So kiss me, J.”
And he does. Jordan cups my face in both of his hands, leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. It’s slow and steady, soft and sweet. It’s already the best kiss I’ve ever had. I let out a little sigh and Jordan pulls back, his eyes locked on mine, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The desire and determination on his face match the way I feel inside.
“Jo.”
My name on his lips is reverence, and then he’s sliding his hands around to the back of my neck, tilting my head up with his thumbs as his lips dive back down on mine. Fireworks explode in the sky, and heat unfurls in my belly, igniting in my veins as Jordan slants his mouth over mine, taking the kiss deeper.
He pushes me against the fence, and I slide my arms around his waist, locking our bodies together, flattening my hands against the cotton of his T-shirt. His lips are soft, and his scent surrounds me, and he tangles his hands in my hair, gliding his tongue over my lips, seeking entry. The second I open for him, he dives inside, a groan rumbling in his chest as he licks into my mouth, tongue dancing with mine as he tastes every inch of me.
It occurs to me that maybe I should be concerned about this kiss messing up our friendship or the fact that I’m leaving at the end of this summer and we live our lives in two different states, hundreds of miles apart, or the fact that we’re standing in Hudson River Park surrounded by thousands of people. But I’m concerned about none of those things because Jordan tastes like cinnamon and happiness and everything good. He presses closer to me, and I feel him hard against my belly, and my blood is swimming with a mixture of emotion and arousal, and nothing in my entire life has ever, ever felt this good.
Jordan pulls back and our gazes lock. His eyes are dark and his lips are wet and this time, when his hair falls over his face, I reach up and push it out of the way, smoothing my hand over the soft strands, resting my hand on his cheek. He leans into my touch and closes his eyes. Our chests rise and fall in sync. Our hearts beat out a matching rhythm that sounds a whole lot likemine.
This man is mine.
Jordan opens his eyes and dips his head, taking my mouth again in a long, slow, dizzying kiss that has sparks racing up my limbs and my body humming with need for the kind of more that requires a dark room and a bed and the kind of bravery I’m not entirely sure I possess, even as arousal swims in my veins.
“Fuck, Hurricane,” Jordan murmurs, a smile curving his lips where they still rest against mine. The exploding fireworks illuminate the hollows of his face, and he is the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
“Probably later,” I half breathe, half gasp, trying to get my heart rate back under control while my brain is doing a happy dance and screamingI kissed Jordan Wyleson repeat. “Too many people around for that now.”
Jordan tosses back his head and laughs. It’s the happiest and freest I’ve ever heard him sound, and my night gets a million times better, if such a thing was even possible. Then Jordan spins me around to face the river, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and tugging me back against him. I lean my head against his neck, wrapping my hands around his forearms and staring at the colorful sky, sure that I have never been more content in my life.
Then the grand finale starts, and the sky is a rainbow, and Jordan dips his head and kisses my neck, whispering, “Thanks for this, Hurricane. This is my favorite night.”
And I know, without a doubt, that it’s my favorite night too.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
JORDAN
“Why is ice cream late at night so superior to ice cream at any other time of the day?” Jo muses as we walk along Broadway, ice cream in one hand and our other hands twined together.
Fireworks are long over, but Jo convinced me to walk from Hudson River Park back to the Upper West Side instead of fighting with thousands of people to get a cab or take a packed subway. To be honest, she didn’t have to try very hard. Walking meant more time with Jo, and I’ll do just about anything if it means more time with her. When I kissed her earlier, it was like my entire world exploded open. I thought the first time I kissed someone after Allie it would be slow and tentative, maybe a little awkward and weird. But it was none of those things.
It was everything.
I want to kiss her a million more times. I want to do so much more than kiss her. I knew my feelings for her were big, but I didn’t realize just how enormous they were until my lips touched hers under the colorful night sky. Until my brain saidyes, this,and I thought about attaching myself to her and never letting go.
It’s probably too soon to be thinking of anything but this moment, but my brain is a runaway train, and it wants Jo. Tonight and tomorrow and for every single day she’ll have me. She makes me laugh, and she makes me think. She makes me want things I didn’t think were in the cards for me ever again, and with her, I’m the happiest I’ve been in years.
I glance down at her, drinking in the way strands of her dark hair escape her braid to curl around her face. The way she laughs a little as she tries to catch the drips of her three-scoop cone because she couldn’t decide which flavor to get, so she chose them all. The way her tank top strap slides down a little, baring one perfect shoulder. The way her tongue licks her ice cream cone has my dick immediately hard. Or, harder, since that’s basically been a permanent state of being since the kiss by the water. Everything about Jo does it for me. She’s under my skin, and I have no interest in it being any other way.
“I think anything late at night is superior.”
