I rest my head on his chest, soaking in the last bits of this imperfectly perfect moment with Jordan. All the while, I desperately cling to the hope that tonight, I won’t be Cinderella. I don’t want the clock to strike midnight and everything to return to normal tomorrow. I don’t think I could take it if Jordan pulled away once again.
But I’m also not naive enough to believe his fears about holding me back from a future in California will disappear with a kiss. Things like that take time. Time I’m willing to give. But I also need to know where he stands. I pull back, far enough to look up at him. “Do we have an expiration date?”
Jordan’s lips press into a thin line. “I hope not.”
Not the most solid answer, but I know it’s the best he can give right now.
Jordan must see the hesitancy in my face because his hands slide down my arms and he entwines his fingers with mine. “Paige. You need to know that I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole life.” He brings my hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to my fingers. “I want to be with you. I want to date you and only you.”
“Are you saying you want to be my boyfriend, Jordan Miller?” I ask, lightheartedly.
“Yes,” He smiles down at me, his eyes brimming with sincerity. He steps closer and strokes his thumb down my cheek. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”
My smile couldn’t possibly get any bigger. I run my free hand through the side of his hair. “Will you promise me something then? If you ever start to think that you’re hurting my future, or my dreams or whatever, will you promise to remember that I want this? That I will always choose you?”
He nods and seals the deal with a kiss before we walk back into the ballroom with our hands entwined for all to see.
Chapter 27
PAIGE
At unearthly hour o’ clock, my phone buzzes. I pry my eyes open and fumble around groggily for my phone that found its way into my pillowcase during the night. I click open my texts.
Jordan: Good morning, beautiful!
Okay, I’m awake. After that text, the morning is indeed good. Jordan just called me “beautiful.” My heart is practically melted butter sliding down a steaming stack of pancakes right now. I try to tamp down my beating heart. If he’s texting this, it must mean that after last night, Jordan is still on board withus. At least, I hope that’s what it means.
I jolt into a sitting position and smooth my hair down as if expecting Jordan himself to be standing in my room like he’s Edward Cullen.
I peer at the time. Five-thirty. Jordan’s usually an early riser but not this early, especially considering that we both got home from the Gala only five hours ago. I’m not sure why he’s up, but I’m here for it.
Paige: Good morning! You’re up early. What are you up to?
Jordan: You mean, what areweup to?
We’re awe! I’ve never loved two letters of the alphabet more than W and E at this moment. Good thing Cabby Cat is fast asleep, or she would probably have nightmares about the way I’m grinning wildly at my glowing phone screen in the dark.
Paige: Oh? And what wouldwebe up to?
Jordan: Nope. No spoilers. You’ll have to come out onto your porch to find out.
My stomach bursts into a million butterflies as I slide out of bed and rush to my bathroom as silently as possible. I triage my regular get-ready routine. Brushing teeth gets priority number one, because I am a girl who likes to be prepared. Then hair.
The rest of the list gets trashed because my hair takes way longer to fix than I intended. Messy buns! I swear, a heart surgery in the dark would be easier to perfect than that hairstyle.
I settle for a floppy bun and tiptoe to the front door in my flannel PJ bottoms and my threadbare TOTO thirty-fifth anniversary tour T-shirt. When I open the door, I find Jordan leaning against the porch railing with two cups of something steaming in his hand.
And whoa, Nelly! Not to objectify, but my eyes are feasting on the buffet of gorgeous that is Jordan Miller right now. He’s wearing dark Chinos and a green jacket that fits him to perfection. His dark-blond hair is slightly wavy on the top, with a small piece falling across his forehead.
He gives me a bright smile. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I croak. I’m so absorbed with the man in front of me that I barely register how my arms fold around my body to keep the surprisingly cool temperatures at bay.
Jordan places the cups on the railing and shrugs out of his jacket. He wraps it around my shoulders, and the sage scent that is Jordan envelops me like rays of sunshine on a winter day. I smile up at him, and he tugs the lapels of his jacket, pulling me into him before wrapping his arms around me.
“I’ve missed you,” Jordan says, doing a thorough job of heating me on the inside as much as he is on the outside.
“Mmm.” I’m pretty much purring like Cabby Cat after a particularly good ear scratch.
