Unknown Number: I look forward to talking to you every day too.
My heart had no business getting this excited over a text message. I shut my laptop and set it on the bedside table. My thumbs moved fast over the touch screen of my phone, adding Jordan to my contacts.
Me: See, that wasn’t so scary.
Jordan: Hope you won’t hate me for this.
Me: I gave you my number, why would I hate you?
Jordan: You’ve been drinking.
Me: I’m not that drunk. Figured this is easier than emails.
Me: Who knows? Maybe in a few weeks we can FaceTime. Oh, the possibilities.
Jordan: What did you mean when you said the signing was weird?
I smirked at his quick change of subject.
Me: No FaceTime, then?
Three-bubbles popped up and disappeared three times before his next text came through.
Jordan: Not ready to burst our bubble.
I could understand that. What we had was easy. FaceTime was like the pen-pal version of sex. It would only complicate things.
Me: That makes sense.
Jordan: I’m not saying no, just not yet.
Me: Did I make it weird?
Jordan: Nah, I think that was me.
Me: It was definitely you ;)
I pulled at my bottom lip with my teeth, grinning at my phone.
Me: About the signing…
Me: It was weird, having all these strangers stare at me like I was something shiny. Everyone was nice and said really complimentary things.
Jordan: But…
Me: I was alone, even though there were over a hundred people there. Everyone wanted to say hi, and get my signature, and asked great questions, but it felt shallow because I’m not that important or interesting.
Jordan: You’re important to them. You talk about books all the time. How you feel about those books is how they feel about yours. Why is that bad?
Me: The usual self-deprecating bullshit. I don’t deserve it. I should be better. Blah blah blah. You know. The creative mindset
Me: One bonus, my new PA is hot.
Jordan: PA?
Me: Personal Assistant. Andrew has a completely fuckable mouth, by the way.
Jordan: I shouldn’t have taken a drink of water when I read that. I might’ve inhaled it.
Me: TMI?
Jordan: Does that mean you…
Me: …….
Jordan: Never mind.
Me: If you’re inquiring as to whether or not I indeed fucked his mouth, unfortunately the answer is no.
Me: And most likely never will because I already fucked my agent. I should probably keep my dick out of the office from now on.
Jordan: You had sex with your agent?
Me: I thought I told you about Anders. Why? Are you jealous?
Jordan: I don’t know how to answer that.
I hadn’t expected that response. This thing we had together was different. I was flirty and he usually danced around it. There hadn’t been a threat of intimacy beyond sharing our thoughts and ideas. After Jax, I struggled to trust anyone. Anders had been the closest thing I’d had to a real relationship in nine years. The physical distance between Jordan and me made it easier for me to be myself. I didn’t even know his last name or the exact city he lived in and I wanted to keep it that way. Regardless, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to know his answer.
Me: How about with the truth?
It took him two full minutes to respond.
Jordan: It shouldn’t make me jealous, but it does. But I’m used to wanting things I shouldn’t.
JAX
I leaned against my headboard and stared at my phone, worried I’d messed everything up with one text. Before he could respond, I sent another text. A total cop-out.
Me: I mean, I wish I could be with someone like that.
My stomach rioted. The idea of him having sex with some random guy he’d just met made me feel nauseous. Jealous. Angry. I couldn’t pick one. I was a wreck of all three. But he didn’t need to know that. It didn’t help that I had my own memories of us. Me on my knees for him. A firsthand account of what it was like to watch him lose control. The memories of him vivid enough I could feel the painful tug of his fingers in my hair.
“Christ,” I whispered under my breath, annoyed with my overactive brain and the hard-on I had growing in my gym shorts.
Wilder: You can be.
A sigh of relief exited my lungs in a long rush. It didn’t seem as though he’d thought my previous text had been about him. This whole night had me twisted up on the inside. I should have never texted him. But I kept pushing boundaries. He’d signed off as Wild in that last email, and it’d been easy to pretend that he knew I was Jax, that the ties we’d shared weren’t pulling me deeper into this mess I’d created.
Wilder: Do something you want for once.
Me: It’s not that easy.
Wilder: Isn’t it, though? What about Ethan?
Me: Not this again.
Wilder: Come on, tell me you haven’t thought about some sort of behind the counter tryst.
Wilder: Let’s do a visualization exercise, shall we?
A slow grin spread across my face.
Me: You’re drunk.
Wilder: I’m not drunk.
Wilder: Anymore.
Wilder: Fiiiiine, I’m buzzed.
I laughed out loud as I typed.
Me: And out of your mind.
A picture of Ethan popped up on my screen. He was standing on the beach, his light brown hair a mess in the wind. His smile was wide enough that it caused wrinkles to appear at the outer edges of his eyes. His hand rested on his toned stomach, and okay, the guy was sexy. The way his swim trunks hung low on his hips made it irritatingly impossible not to wonder what was going on underneath the white ties and blue fabric. I was a guy, who was into guys, being in the closet didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate a beautiful body. But he wasn’t Wild. And right now, all I fucking wanted was Wild. I couldn’t tell him that, though. I couldn’t tell him how much I hated that his ex-boyfriend was actually his agent. How jealous it made me that Anders got to see him every day. The guy’s name even pissed me off. And now this personal assistant asshole. None of these things were relevant because I was a liar and a glutton for his punishment.
Me: Jesus, where did you get that?
Wilder: His Pegasus account. *shrugs*
Me: I was joking earlier when I said you were crazy, but now…
Wilder: Picture this. You’re in the hardware store, all alone with Ethan.
Me: Stop.
Wilder: And, wouldn’t you know, the power goes out.
Me: Wilder…
Wilder: What?
Me: I can promise you if I was in the hardware store and the power went out, the last thing I’d be thinking about is having sex with Ethan.
Wilder: Why are you so boring?
I tried to bite back my smile, a chuckle reverberating in my chest as I sat up.
Me: Ha. Ha.
Wilder: You’re a total cock block.
Me: What the hell? How?
Wilder: Poor Ethan. All he wanted was a sloppy blow job from the hot, moody construction worker who ignores him on a daily basis.