“Nonchalant. And he denied it, of course.”
“Is it possible it wasn’t him?” Lexie ponders. “Although, I suppose that would be more troubling.”
“Oh, it’s him,” I insist. “Who else would send me dead roses?”
“Eduardo?” Dee suggests, making my head jerk over to her.
“Come on, Eduardo would not do that.”
“You did dump him.”
“Hardly. We hooked up whenever either of us was in the mood.”
“For nearly a year. He might have thought it was a relationship.”
“He didn’t. He’s cool with our situation. He regularly calls to check on me. I even told him over lunch the other day that Stiles had finally come around. Eduardo and I are friends, strictly in the platonic sense. It’s Talon,” I maintain. “He had the flowers sent to the office so he could see my reaction.”
“Did you tell Athena?” Lexie asks.
“Not yet. I don’t have proof. It would be my word against his.”
“True.” Dee nods, still fanning herself. “What does Stiles think?”
“I haven’t told him. He’ll overreact and think it’s a threat.”
“We don’t know it isn’t a threat.”
“Talon is an ass, but he’s not violent.”
“A slashed tire, broken window, sabotage, and now dead roses…I don’t like it, Jord.” Dee looks at me pointedly. “Tell Stiles, because I’m not willing to promise that I won’t and risk anything happening to you.”
FRIDAY NIGHT, WE ORDER PIZZA and sit on the living room floor, watching a soccer game. Jordyn is an enthusiastic fan, jumping up to cheer for her team and ranting at the screen when they fall short—narrating the plays like a commentator. I have never been with a woman who was an elite athlete or who loves sports more than I do. She can recite win-loss stats, rankings, and ratios. Her brain is like a sports encyclopedia.
Polishing off another pepperoni slice, she’s kneeling on the area rug wearing my T-shirt, as she seems to like to do. It covers her from shoulders to knees, all the parts I’d just spent the last hour getting up close and personal with.
“Get your head out of your ass!” she shouts as the team fumbles the ball. “Did you see that? Granger totally missed an obvious shot. Now I might have to rethink my crush.”
“You have a crush on Granger?”
“Sure, look at those big thighs.”
“He plays like shit.”
“Today, yes, but not usually. And those thighs—”
I grab her wrist and pull her against my bare chest.
“Jasper!” she shrieks.
“That’s enough thigh talk and ogling.”
“Ah.” She grins, not hiding her amusement, and spreads her legs over my lap. “If it’s any consolation, I like your thighs way better.”
Then she sets out to put her words into action.
The next morning, we stayed in bed until eight, which was late for me. I check in with Pops and then Max, who’s in charge over the weekend. I skipped the dojo to join Jordyn on a run. It’s forecasted to be hot and muggy, but any thoughts about the weather are eclipsed by Jordyn in workout gear. Her top is basically a tangerine washcloth with a crisscross of thin straps at the back and matching Spandex shorts that are short, short and cling to her muscular thighs and ass like saran wrap.
“Let’s get this over with.” I bend down and tie her shoelaces. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”
