He didn’t want to admit this to Jordan. Matt knew his whole history, even stayed with him in the hospital a few times. Butsaying this to Jordan made him feel like…a hypochondriac…with a classic case of man-flu. “I’m not feeling well,” he admitted sheepishly. “Matt was supposed to be my standby guy in case I need…medical assistance, but he sent you here instead, so he’s officially fired as my best friend as well.”
“Yes, that is cause for you to re-evaluate your friendship with Matt.” She shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the coat rack near the door. “But I’m already here, so I guess I can be your standby guy.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Tyler, you look awful. I’ll stay for a bit.” She walked in further and looked around, taking in the dark hardwood floors and double volume windows overlooking the Seattle skyline. “Nice penthouse you got here.”
His place could be described as the perfect, modern bachelor pad, decorated in brown and white and other neutral tones. It was a one-bedroom loft, with his bedroom and master bathroom on the top floor, and the kitchen and living room on the bottom level. Every room was spacious, but as a whole, it could only be considered big enough for one person. Trisha had asked to move in with him last year and it didn’t take long before it started to feel cramped. They were planning on getting a bigger place this year, but that plan had changed drastically.
“This staircase is a little scary. No railings.” She walked up two stairs and it seemed like she chickened out. Taking a few steps back to the entrance, she stopped and smiled at him. “I expected your place to be a bit bigger.”
“I prefer simple and practical.”
“Practical, but not private.” She looked around again. “There isn’t a door in this place. I can see straight into your bedroom from here.”
“I don’t need privacy. I live alone…now.”
She walked into the living room, kicked off her heels, and made herself comfortable on the couch.
“Did you come straight from the office?”
The question was pretty pointless. She was still wearing the same black skirt and peach blouse she had on earlier and that was an answer on its own. Yet he felt the need to fill the space with pointlessness so that his mind wouldn’t have to dwell on the fact that he wasalonewithJordan.
“Yeah.” She reached for the remote and flipped through the channels. “Sit down, Tyler. Make yourself at home.”
It was an L-shaped sofa and he sat down as far away from her as possible. He dropped his head on the armrest and managed to stretch his legs out along the cushions without touching her at all.
“I love this movie!” she said sprightly.
He saw Samuel L. Jackson on screen and shook his head. “Snakes on a plane?” he grumbled. “This is the worst movie ever.”
“I can’t believe you would say that,” she replied with exasperation. “The greatest line of all time comes from this movie.”
“If you say—”
“I am tired of these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane.”
That was the exact line he was hoping she wouldn’t say yet hearing her say it still drew a smile out of him. The profanities that came out of this woman’s mouth. He liked it, though. Not the words as such, but her ease in using them. Most of his employees were always on their best behavior around him. As soon as he walked by, ties were straightened and he had to endure fake smiles and overly friendly greetings. But not with Jordan. Jordan never felt the need to impress anyone. She spoke her mind and never tried to be anyone other than herself.
“Language,” he muttered playfully.
“If you think I’m bad, you should meet my brother, Kevin.”
Drowsiness made it difficult to continue the conversation. It was around the time when the snakes escaped from the boxes in the cargo hold that his eyelids became heavy and he passed out.
His dream state was interrupted by a gentle hand tapping him lightly on the cheek.
“Tyler?” she whispered. “I’m gonna go now.”
“What time is it?” he mumbled, struggling to open his eyes. He was only catching glimpses of her kneeling down beside the sofa, but that was definitely a face he could get used to waking up to.
“It’s after midnight. I made dinner for you in case you get hungry.” She ran her hand over his forehead and through his damp hair. “I think your fever broke, so I’m gonna head home, okay?”
With her shoes and purse clasped in one arm, she stood up and he immediately caught her wrist. “You’re not going.”
He slowly sat up and was surprised and relieved when he didn’t feel the dizzy pounding in his head. A six-hour nap had obviously done him well.
“Tyler, it’s late. I really have to go.”
