Page 31 of Old Fashioned
I glanced at Sydney, who worried her lip a little before nodding.
“Of course,” I answered Paige, holding out my hand for a high five. “But you better work on these drills by yourself, too. Don’t wait for me to get you going.”
“I will! I promise!”
Sydney joined us from the porch, resting her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Alright, Paigey. Go get washed up for dinner.”
“Are you staying for dinner, too?” Paige asked me, folding her hands together. “Oh! And maybe to watch the Vols game, too?”
“Paige…” Sydney warned.
“Oh, Mama,please,” Paige said again, turning her begging eyes to her mother.
Sydney pulled on one of Paige’s curls, letting it bounce back into place before she spoke. “Jordan has been with us all day, sweetie. I’m sure he wants to get home.”
“I don’t mind.”
The words came out too quickly, too honestly, and Sydney’s eyes locked on mine as Paige tugged on her overalls.
“See? Hewantsto. Pleeeeeeease.” She folded her hands together again and bounced, eyes hopeful and bottom lip protruded.
Sydney watched me for a moment longer, a question in her eyes I couldn’t decipher before she addressed her daughter again with a sigh. “You’re too cute for your own good.”
“Yes!” Paige said, knowing without an affirmative answer that she’d won. She bounded off into the house without another look. “I’ll shower fast and put the game on!”
She was gone before I could answer, and I chuckled, sliding my hands into my pockets. “I’m sorry about that,” I said to Sydney, a little embarrassed. “I should have pulled you aside to ask you if you wanted company before I agreed like that.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said just as quickly as I had, and I smiled at the sight of a blush on her cheeks. “I don’t get the chance to cook for guests very often. I like it.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded.
For a long while, we stood there, toe to toe, in her backyard as the sun lit up the sky with vibrant pinks and violets, her eyes on mine and mine watching her, in return.
“Need some help in the kitchen?” I finally offered.
At that, she gave a short laugh out of her nose. “I’d love that,” she said, but one brow quirked high as she let her eyes roam down the length of me. “But you need a shower first, too.”
“What? Am I a little sweaty?” I asked, inching toward her.
Sydney’s smile flattened, her eyes wide before they narrowed in warning. “Jordan… don’t you dare.”
“Oh, come on,” I teased, reaching out for her before she could escape. She squeaked and writhed in my grasp as I crushed her in a hug. “See? I’m perfectly dry!”
“Ewww,” she dragged out, swatting at me in laughter until I let her go. She shook her head, shoving me toward the door. “Shower. Now. Before I change my mind and kick you out.”
I was still thinking about the way she felt in my arms, about her eyes, and her smile, and about the way that smile filled her entire face that afternoon as I washed away the day in her shower. I had to wash with her shower gel, which smelled like her, and dry with a towel that did, too.
And it was when I had my nose in that towel, when I took a deep inhale and soaked in her scent, that I realized what I was doing.
My eyes shot open, and I saw myself reflected in the foggy mirror in her bathroom.
What the hell are you doing?
You shouldn’t stay for dinner.
You shouldn’t have been that close to Sydney.
