“That you only want to get laid.”
She gives me a sassy smirk. “And what if that’s exactly the kind of message I want to send? I should be allowed to want sex from strangers.”
An irrational bout of jealousy flares.
“Are you an adrenaline junkie?” The question comes out harder than I intended it to.
Her brows furrow in confusion.
I tick off my fingers one by one. “First, you meet up with strangers from sketchy websites for work and for sex. Second, you talk back to robbers who point guns in your face. Third, you don’t keep your phone password protected. Which means if it gets stolen, so does all your personal information. And fourth, you don’t look through your peephole to answer the door and you don’t close your blinds at night, so people can see through your curtains.”
Her eyes widen and she looks shocked at my outburst. It takes her less than a second to school her features before her eyes bounce between mine and she answers me. “First, I meet up with strangers for my photography because I need the money. And maybe I need the sex too. Second, I talked back to the robber, a.k.a. Kyle, because I was overwhelmed and frustrated. Third, my phone isn’t password protected because it takes less time to get into it that way. And fourth, are you a peeping tombecause how the fuck do you know you can see through my curtains at night?” she spits out.
We’re both leaning over our half-eaten meals, practically in each other's faces.
Her reaction is the exact kind of reaction I would expect from her. Many people might find it a turn off, but I’m not many people.
I wonder if she’s always had this no-bullshit attitude or if it’s a defense mechanism for something else. Either way, I like the fight in her.
“Are you going to tell me how you know you can see me through my window curtains?” she repeats.
I thought she would let that one go, but apparently not.
I decide to go for broke because what do I have to lose at this point? She’s already skittish. “I slept outside your apartment in my car so I could catch you this morning before you left for your shoot. Kyle told me where you were going to be but not when, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss you.”
I’m met with silence and wide eyes. Like she didn’t actually believe I was going to tell her the truth.
And then she breaks out in hysterics. The kind of hysterics that have other patrons looking our way. I’m not sure if I should laugh with her or not, so I chug the last bit of my beer and wait. I might need something stronger if she decides to call the cops on me.
“You’re absolutely crazy,” she says while she wipes the tears from her eyes, her laughter subsiding a minute later.
“You’ve said as much.” I smirk at her.
“You know, Iwasgoing to pay you back for this lunch but now I don’t think I will. I think I deserve a free meal for having to put up with your psycho stalker ass.”
And for some reason, she relaxes and doesn’t get up and leave like I fully expected her to. She digs into her food, and I do the same.
A few minutes later I tell her, “I promise I’m not stalking you. I thought honesty would be the best policy.” I realize how ironic that statement is coming from me.
She nods her head. “Thank you for telling me. I can’t fault you for the truth. But you know it’s creepy right?”
I chuckle because she’s not wrong. “It won’t happen again. I promise. I just wanted to make sure you were safe after yesterday.” I look at her half-eaten meal and her empty beer. “Let’s get you home. I’m sure you have better things to do on a Sunday besides hang out with me.”
She doesn’t argue and we box our leftovers and I pay for our meal, then we head out into the midday sun. Jordan sheds her pink sweater and adjusts her backpack on her shoulders.
She looks beautiful. I haven’t seen her wear a dress before, and it suits her. Her hair is straight today, and her makeup is light. When I saw her through the car window this morning talking to Kyle, I was taken aback. She’s easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Besides her hair, everything about her is natural. Effortless. And the pink hair adds to her allure.
We walk in silence, just like this morning, but this time it’s not uncomfortable. I don’t want this day to be over yet, but I have a feeling I would be pushing my luck if I were to ask for more.
When we round the corner to her apartment building, she finally speaks up, “Are you going to show up to the coffee shop this week?”
It’s an innocent question. Just a complicated one. I’m not here to make friends but this girl has me in a twist and I’m not sure I can fully stay away. I told her today was a date, and LucasAmato meant it. Lucas Rivera on the other hand shouldn’t have said or done anything to make her think it was.
I’m still working different angles on the case, and I have to be careful because if anyone suspects anything, I could put not only my life in danger, but anybody who’s close to me in danger as well.
This is why undercover work is so hard. Your sole purpose is to become someone else and embody them to the fullest. It’s just my luck to run into someone like Jordan on the job. I need to stay away, to keep her out of sight for safety reasons, but I’m not sure I can do it. I simply say, “Maybe.”
I should give her space after what I told her at lunch anyway. I don’t want her to think that I really am a stalker. I’ll give it a few days before I show up at the coffee shop.
