Page 16 of Step By Step

“Wait, wait. Shh, listen dude,” she insists, swatting my hands away.

Frowning, I watch her turn up the radio. There is no music now, just dead air. I glance at her, wondering if she had a joint before we left I don’t know about. And then I hear why she is having a freak-out.

“I do not care what they say about this song or the band. This, right now, is my song. My girlfriend does not know it’s our song. Last time I played it for listeners, I met her. And I just feel like it’s the perfect song, so for us, so I am claiming it as ours. Sending this out to my girl, Jenna.”

Jordan’s voice trails off as the car fills with the New Kids hit Step by Step. I almost laugh out loud because it is the last song I expect him to dedicate to me. Or call our song. Then I recall I heard it on my way to the mall that day, not even realizing he was the one playing it.

Turns out, Step by Step truly is our song—and it is perfect for us.

“Holy shit,” Tina turns to me, taking a long drag off her joint. “He has dedicated a song to one other girl, Jenna. His little sister. We can go dancing another night, I am taking you to the station.”

Wondering what he might be doing there this late, I agree. After I tell her I will drive us. Let her finish her joint while I go see my man. I smile so big my face hurts. That sick to my stomach feeling I had earlier when I saw him with my best friend is gone.

Because music matters to us both—him dedicating a song to me is so romantic no matter what the song is or who sings it.

Being a pop song from a superstar group seems so out of left field. While I love their music as much as the next girl, I might have expected Madonna or even Guys Next Door, the band from the show tonight. I turn the radio up loud, both of us singing as I race to the radio station.

“Stay here,” I tell Tina as I slide into a parking spot out front. “Do not leave without me. No driving. Singing, dancing, smoking, yes. Driving or leaving, no. Agreed?”

“You got it, sister! Go get your man, dude!”

Laughing, I nod and rush from her little Gremlin, racing inside. I stop short because I have no idea where to go. As I hurry down the hall, I pass two other stations’ studios. I make a mental note to ask him for a tour on another night, I would love to see how what he does every day works.

“Ah, there it is,” I call out, seeing the Sweet 105.5ON AIRlight up ahead. Launching forward, I pause just before I reach the studio.

Taking a deep breath, I go over what to say. How to let him know I do not think he did anything wrong. That I trust him. That I want this still—I want him still. Remembering our plans for tonight, for him to come to my place, I almost panic again.

Am I going to take him back to my place, where my best friend who might want him too is waiting?

“Yes, I am,” I murmur out loud with conviction. “He ismine.”

Smiling at my newfound reserve, I fix my hair, adjust my glasses, and let out one last shaky breath. Easing forward, I peek inside, lighting up the minute I see him standing at the lifted station. Surrounded by boards and sound equipment, he looks so in his element, I just watch for a moment.

Standing there watching him move back and forth, setting up songs, lining up bumpers, and all it takes to run a show, I am amazed. I am so deeply proud of him finding his calling and going after it. Jordan has given me such inspiration to chase my own dreams; to write more music and take a real chance on myself, and I am so grateful for that.

Knocking gently on the door, I wait for him to turn. When he does, his handsome face lighting up, my heart soars. God, how am I so in love with him so soon? I don’t know, but I won’t question it. And I will not question us again. Jordan puts up a finger before spinning back to lower the lift.

Bouncing from foot to foot, my heart is thundering in my chest. I press my hands there, willing it to calm down. It won’t. I have tried to calm my heart down since we met. It has not worked yet and to be honest; I hope it never does.

“Jenna,” Jordan throws the door open, pulling me inside, voice frantic. To calm him, I step close, cradling his face in gentle hands. I push up on my toes, brushing my lips over his.

Groaning, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me off my feet. He tastes sweet, Cherry Coke sweet. I trace his full lips with my tongue, whimpering when he opens, his hands dropping to my backside. Gripping, he lifts me against him, forcing my legs to close around him.

We spin and he slams me against the cushioned, sound safe wall. I slide a hand down his front, yanking at his shirt. I want to be skin to skin again. I have craved it all day, since we laid in bed together and he made me feel so good. I want all of that again, but this time, I want more.

“I was so scared,” he pants against my mouth as he pulls back, as my hand slips beneath his shirt. “What you saw...”

“It was nothing,” I finish for him, struggling to think straight once I feel his hard, warm chest beneath my fingers. “I let it be something it was not. I thought... I don’t know what I thought. No, that’s not true... given the choice in the past, Donna was always the choice.”

“Not for me, baby,” he rasps, touching his forehead to mine as he cups my neck. We breathe together, our hearts beating as one. “It wouldalwaysbe you. Itwillalways be you. I never thought I’d find someone. I was told to take my chance when I saw it—youare my chance.”

“And I know you are mine,” I whisper back, pulling him closer. “I should have come to you on that stage and proved that. I am sorry I let my doubt get in the way. I won’t do it again.”

“I won’t let you. I won’t ever let you doubt us again. It is you and me, baby. The two of us, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, it’s us, Jordan.”

Grinning at me, he lowers his head slowly, teasing me. I push up, closing the distance so I can steal his mouth in a searing kiss. My hand moves down his chest, going to the button on his jeans. He groans as I pull at them, greedy to touch him. I slip my hand past the zipper after tugging it down, moaning when I feel how hard he is.

---