“Me neither,” Astrid said. “I had no idea Natasha was even in the room, and I—”
“Not Natasha,” Jordan said. “You.”
Astrid took a step back. “What do you—” But she cut herself off, her eyes widening. “Oh. God.”
Jordan shook her head. “It’s fine. I get it. I just... it felt...”
“Shitty,” Astrid said. “It felt really shitty, oh my god, Jordan, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even thinking about... I just... I didn’t think we wanted Natasha to know. I have no idea how she’d react, or what that would mean for the show and—”
“You need the show,” Jordan finished for her. It was true—Jordan needed it too—but bitterness laced through each syllable nonetheless. She swallowed hard, tried to be logical, reasonable.
But since when was her heart fucking reasonable?
They stood there, awkwardly, and Jordan had no clue what else to say. Astrid didn’t seem to know either. In her back pocket, Jordan’s phone went off, saving them from having to figure it out.
Meredith’s name flashed across the screen.
“Goddammit,” Jordan whispered, smacking the red button and all but slamming the phone down on the brand-new countertop.
“What’s wrong?” Astrid asked. “Who was that?”
“No one.”
Astrid didn’t press, but she still looked worried.
“Jordan,” she said, stepping closer. She hooked her finger through the belt loops of Jordan’s overalls. “I’m sorry about what I told Natasha. Ordidn’ttell her. It’s not you.”
Jordan laughed. “Wow, that’s some line.”
“No,” Astrid said, yanking Jordan against her body. “It’s not. It’s really not you. And it’s notus. It’s just... I don’t know what I’m doing, okay? This has all been a lot. Agreata lot—I’m not complaining, but I’m... I’m...”
“A baby bisexual?” Jordan said, letting a smile curl one side of her mouth. Fuck, this woman was adorable. Even when Jordan wanted to be a little pissed at her, she couldn’t resist. And, in truth, thiswasall very new for Astrid. Jordan needed to remember that.
Astrid smiled back. “Well, I mean, yes, maybe I am, but I’m not even talking about the whole queer aspect of this. I’m talking about you.Youare new to me. Feeling like this.”
“Okay, nowthatis a line,” Jordan said, but her heart didn’t care one bit. She brought her hands up to frame Astrid’s face between her hands. She didn’t kiss her. Not yet, and mostly because Astrid was still frowning at her, with an expression that could only be described as desperate.
Astrid glanced toward the pantry door, which was slightly ajar. Grabbing Jordan’s hand, she pulled her inside the empty space and closed the door after them.
Chapter Twenty-five
IT WAS TRUE,Astrid had no idea what she was doing. But in this moment, shoving the girl she liked into a pantry after she’d made her feel like total shit seemed like a logical choice. If Jordan thought her words were lines, fine. She’d show her. She’d make Jordanfeeleverything Astrid felt for her.
“What the hell—” Jordan started, but never got another word out because Astrid pressed her against the door and kissed her. Jordan tasted like spring this time, like pine and rain. Astrid slid her hands inside Jordan’s overalls, fingers dancing up her spine to her sports bra.
“Okay, hang on,” Jordan said, pulling away and flicking on the light so she could see Astrid clearly. “Not that I don’t love this, but you do realize we’re alone in the house, right?”
Astrid laughed, relief at Jordan’s light tone making her giddy, and kissed down Jordan’s neck to her collarbone.
“I know,” Astrid said, running her teeth over Jordan’s skin. The other woman sucked in a breath, and Astrid grinned—she’d never get over the fact that she could pull that kind of reaction out of Jordan. The effect was drug-like, addictive and euphoric. “Pulling you into apantry seemed like a good grand gesture after screwing up. I’m not saying it makes sense.”
“It makes no sense whatso—”
Astrid used her tongue now, dipping it inside that lovely divot at the base of Jordan’s throat.
“Fuck,” Jordan said, arching her neck to give Astrid more room. “Not gonna argue with you. Ever.”
“Works for me,” Astrid said, fingers playing at the underside of Jordan’s bra. She’d never touched a woman’s bare breasts other than her own, but shit, she wanted to, even as nerves filled her stomach. They were the good kind of nerves though. Thewantingkind of nerves.
