Page 7 of A Million Times, Yes
He gave me a small but powerful smile. “What can I say ... I like the view.”
I let out a huff of air. “Well, that’s honesty if I’ve ever heard it.”
“Do you want me to lie? Fine. You’re faster than me.”
Even his words had steam and a slight edge, and when combined with his voice, it was sensory overload.
“Tell me about you, Jordan—shit.” I came to a screeching halt as a Porsche convertible zoomed down the side street we were about to pass. When the driver got to the intersection, she didn’t stop for us even though she was supposed to. She took a right as if we weren’t even standing there. “I swear, when you own a car like that, it’s a requirement to drive like a total asshole.”
“Sounds like you’re not a fan of speed.”
“And people who waste hundreds of thousands of dollars on something that just takes you from point A to B.” I smiled at him. “And bikes, especially when they’re on the verge of killing me.” I shook my head and resumed the jog. “Back to you, Jordan. I want to get to know the person I agreed to run with.”
“Are you asking if I drive a Porsche? Or if I bike when I’m not running?” He chuckled.
“Oh, you’re one of the fancy ones who actually has a car and doesn’t take the T or the bus.” When he didn’t respond, I added, “I hope it’s not a Porsche ... or a bike.”
How did he smell so good this early? The longer he was next to me, the more of his cologne I inhaled. A scent that was spicy, but not in a hot sauce kind of way. This was as if several different kinds of woods came together and blended with exotic teas, creating an aroma that was seductive and rich and confident—like him.
“I grew up in the city,” he said. “Not in this section of town, but not far. I have a brother who’s two years older. I’m thirty-three. Never been married, don’t have kids.”
“I assumed, you know, since you don’t date.” I gave him another smile.
“Maya, you’re learning fast.”
“I listen.”
“I like that. Attention isn’t something that can be taught. It’s something you’re born with.”
“Are you a listener?”
“No. In fact, my lack of listening is the reason I’m such a good driver, like the woman we just witnessed. Similar to her, I ignore all traffic signals and pedestrians and take on the road like it’s all mine. I only drive Porsche, by the way.” He winked.
“A lead foot like a NASCAR driver with a mouth like a litigator. Check and check.”
“Litigators are too clean. I like to fight dirty.”
I could tell.
So could that throbbing spot between my legs.
“Is that where the muscles come from? Twelve rounds of dirty fighting in the boxing ring?”
“Are you telling me you appreciate my body?”
We turned at the next street, our gait picking up a little, but the quickness in my stride wasn’t why my face was turning red. “It was noticed. Like you noticed mine.”
“I did far more than just notice, Maya ...” His voice drifted off. “Let’s say the running helps my stamina. The gym gives me strength. And I’ve been known to hit the bag on occasion.”
My brain circled right back to the conversation I’d had with Em.
The kind of guy who has the power to pick you up and throw you against a wall.
Ravaging every inch of you and fucking every ounce of breath out of your body.
That was Jordan. There was no question in my mind.
“You must have a lot of time on your hands to get in at least two workouts a day,” I said.
