No one says a word as we all soak in the absurdity of what just went down. And when we finally make eye contact with each other and decide on relieved laughter as the best response, I know we’re all hoping like hell that’s the last of those two. I can’t be the only one who highly doubts that’s the end of it.
Chapter Two
Beck
Somehow, we come to a silent agreement to pretend like the Fliss/Sydney encounter never happened. At least for the rest of the night.
We skateboard, jump on the trampoline, and swim in the pool. Coby brought a cake big enough for three times as many people and we sing happy birthday to Lucy and Jordan.
As people start to wander off to bed, Jordan throws her arms around my neck. “You know how much I love you, right?”
I just smile at her in answer. She’s been super affectionate tonight, way more than usual. It’s not that Jordan’s not normally affectionate, but when we’re hanging with friends and there are things like trampolines, skateparks, and pools around, she’s definitely not the type to hang on to me. It’s taken me a while not to be slightly offended, but usually in these situations, she half ignores me. At least, that’s how it was at the beginning of our relationship, those first few months when I was still a student. Ever since I came back from the competition tour, it’s been different.
Jordan reaches up on her toes and starts kissing me. Yeah, she’s definitely more into me tonight, or into touching me in front of anyone, than she ever has been before. And I have to say, I have no problem with it.
She pulls away when things get a little heated. “I don’t want to call it a night because I’m having too much fun. But I really want to go to your room.”
“Sounds like a real conflict. You know once we go to my room, we won’t be leaving until tomorrow morning.”
“It’s the pool. Having this pool out here means you’re in your bathing suit all the time. And I just can’t handle you in a bathing suit.”
“So the pool’s a problem for you?”
“No, if it wasn’t the pool it’d be you skateboarding. Basically, I just want you all the time. It’s not normal.”
It’s cute that she actually sounds a little concerned. “Maybe not normal, but not a bad thing either. Most people would call it a good thing, especially since it’s reciprocated.” I’m far from wise when it comes to relationships, but there’s no doubt Jordan and I have a unique kind of chemistry.
“Hey, you know what?” she asks.
“What?”
“It’s sort of like our one-year anniversary today.”
“One-year anniversary from our first kiss?”
She shrugs. “Yeah – that counts for something, right?”
“I think it means we should definitely choose going to my room right now so we can redo the kiss.”
“Redo the kiss? But that was a pretty good kiss.” She frowns. “It was kind of only my second kiss ever. Was I really bad? From my end at least it was a great kiss.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. We should redo the part where we stopped.”
“Ohhhhh. Yeah, good idea.”
We call out goodnight to our friends who are still up and I have trouble keeping my hands off her as we make our way through the house. I picked a different bedroom than the one I used during Shred Live, and it’s on the opposite end of the house. We lose our towels. In only our bathing suits as we wander the oversized darkened hallways, all I can think is that it’s a good thing there aren’t cameras around anymore. Sure I got confirmation of it from Shred Live, but I did my own check too, just to be certain. I’ve gotten increasingly distrustful when it comes to protecting my privacy, since meeting Jordan and since my fame has reached new levels.
But with roommates to think about, I make sure we’re in the bedroom before we really get down to business. Someday I want my own place with this woman, just her and me. We’ve got it pretty damn good at the moment, but when it comes to Jordan, I’m greedy. I want it all.
I don’t know if it’s the whole one-year anniversary talk, or simply that it’s her birthday and she’s feeling especially energetic, but we’re up half the night in bed. It’s a rare occasion to stay up late and sleep in, but by the time we get up the next day, it’s almost ten AM.
“Come on Beck, we gotta get rolling.”
“We do?” It’s Monday and I only work Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday for Brazen.
My title might be VP, but in reality, I’m Griffin’s confidant. With professional skateboarding also on my plate, we decided three days physically in the office was sufficient. That way I can travel to weekend competitions easily. At least that’s the official explanation, even if nearly everyone who works for Brazen is in our circle of friends and they all know I coordinated my work schedule with Jordan’s class schedule.
The same girl who’s pushing my shoulder now as my eyes drift closed again. “Yeah, we’re skateboarding. I’m going to start practicing inverts again and I don’t want to overthink it.”
My eyes are open now and I try not to show my hesitation when I ask, “Really?”
“Really. I’ve got momentum from the trampoline. I know it’s not even close to the same thing but whatever. I’ve got to take advantage of this burst of confidence before it goes away.”
She’s out of bed, pulling open the drawers on the dresser reserved for her stuff.
“I don’t even get morning snuggles?” I slide up in bed so I can watch her.
She puts a hand out as she pulls her panties up with the other. “Don’t give me that look, Beck. I’m not falling for it.”
“What look? You aren’t even looking at me.”
“I don’t have to look at you to know.” She turns around and rummages for a tee shirt, sliding it over her head. “You’re only wearing boxers. And you’re all sleepy and cute and sexy.” She huffs as she grabs a pair of shorts and finally spins around to face me. Then she throws her hands in the air. “See? I can’t resist it. And do you give me that sort of sad and lost look on purpose?” She squints and I try to tune into the look she’s talking about. “You don’t even know you’re doing it, do you?”
Jordan lets out a defeated sigh, and I decide silence is the best response. She tosses the shorts on the bed and climbs back on until she’s sitting back on her heels between my legs.
My hands itch to touch her but I stay still, not wanting to break whatever apparent spell she’s accusing me of casting on her.
“Did you know that this is the image that kept playing in my head when we were apart after my crash?” Her tone is softer now.
“Me sitting in bed looking sad and pitiful?”
“I didn’t say pitiful,” she corrects me. “I think I said sexy too.”
My hands run up her bare thighs, but I’m the one who snaps out of the trance from the touch. “You really want to try inverts?” I ask. Sure, I’d love to distract her and keep her from doing something dangerous. We all know what another head injury could mean. And the risk of head injury is highest with inverts, even if it wasn’t so long ago she could do them with ease. But I also don’t want any resentment to fester if I hold her back.