"Five weeks," I breathe, and then I'm pulling him back to me.
His hands are everywhere—my face, my neck, my waist, my thighs. He's spreading my legs, pulling me to the edge of the counter, and I'm wrapping them around him when I feel it.
A warm wet unmistakable gush.
Oh God.
I break the kiss, looking down between my thighs.
"Jordan." My face burns with mortification. "I'm sorry. I'm—my period. I need a minute."
He follows my gaze. His eyebrows arch as he stares. "Huh."
'Huh?' That's it? He's not freaking out?
Jordan takes a step back, then calmly opens a drawer beneath the sink. He straightens, pulling out a large paper bag with a local drugstore logo. He empties the contents onto the counter.
Tampons—dozens of them, in different sizes and absorbencies. Bottles of Advil and Tylenol. Peppermint tea. Massage oil. A hot water bottle with a plush furry cover in hot pink.
I'm speechless.
"I wasn't sure what you'd need," he says, arranging them in neat rows next to me like this is completely normal.
"You—" I stutter. "You bought tampons and—and all this stuff?"
"Of course. I've got you, baby." And then he's back to burying his face in my neck, like me bleeding all over his bathroom counter is the least interesting thing happening today.
"Jordan!" I push at his chest, making him look at me. "How did you even know what to get?"
"Meredith." He's nibbling on my throat now, working his way down.
I freeze. "You asked your baby sister for period supply advice?"
"Mm-hmm." His mouth finds the swell of my breast. "She gets them too."
Well, of course she does, she's sixteen!Despite everything, a laugh escapes me. "What did you tell her?"
"What's more interesting is what she said," he murmurs against my skin.
"What?"
"She swore she'd break my leg in three places if I broke your heart."
I melt, even as his kisses drift lower. "Your sister sounds terrifying."
"Wait till you meet my mother," he muses. Then his mouth closes over my nipple, and I gasp.
"Jordan, wait!" I say, trying to regain focus. "I'm on my period."
"I'm well fucking aware." He chuckles, tongues the hard peak, then gently suckles. Shivers run through me.
"And you still want to—"
"Why wouldn't I?" Suddenly, he pulls back to look at me, and his brows knitting with concern. "Are you hurting?"
"What?"
He puts a palm on my lower belly. "You took Toradol just now. Are you in pain?"
