I, however, had a semi. Not because of Maria, because, as beautiful as she was, I didn’t find her attractive. Still, my dick had a mind of its own lately because it kept waking up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“What about you, Slade?” I said, smirking. “What’s your type? No, let me guess. It’s the girl next door, isn’t it? The kind of girl who lives behind a white picket fence and dreams of a knight in shining armor. Am I right?”
Jordan lowered his gaze before replying.
“Actually… I think I might be gay.”
My stomach dipped. “Pardon?”
“It’s not ayouthing,” Jordan added, looking alarmed. “It’s a penis thing.”
So, I heard him correctly. It was also something called too much info.
“I get that, Jordan,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “And as much as I rejoice in your gay awakening, I don’t want to know more about it.”
“Why? Do I disgust you?”
“I’m not homophobic,” I exclaimed, feeling exasperated. “You know me well enough to know that. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
So, we didn’t. Actually, it was a conversation-stopper if I ever heard one, because none of us spoke for the rest of the night. Jordan fell asleep, which made me want to sleep too, but I had something to prove to myself. Namely, that I didn’t need him. So, I watched him sleep, wondering how someone who looked like an angel could be so annoying at times. His caramel-blondhair shimmered under the moonlight, darker in the shadows and the color of champagne where the light touched it. His eyelashes were pale and endless. His lower lip was slightly fuller than the upper one, making him look almost… pouty. It was no wonder Skull Crusher was chasing him like a dog after a bone. Jordan was beautiful, and he smelled fucking great. I made a mental note to ask him which cologne he used when my phone chimed. I rearranged a boner in my pants before reading the text.
Maddox: I’m drunk. Where’s the fire?
Me: In my pants.
I cringed and deleted that.
Me: I need that file on Flynn!!!
Maddox: I sent it to you. Check your spam.
Me: Shit. You’re right.
Maddox: You’re welcome.
Me: Fuck off.
It was early in the morning when Boris Flynn walked out of the house, dressed for work. He was on his phone, and he looked upset. He kept darting nervous glances at the street until the call ended, and then he took off in his Chevrolet. We followed him to his office, but other than that phone call, nothing strange happened. After that, we went to the station, and the following day, we did it all over again.
It was after the third sleepless night that I started to crack. I came to work pissed and almost got into a fight with both Maddox and Buck. Chief Bibb told Jordan that both of us should take a day off, but what was the point? I still wouldn’t be able to fucking sleep.
It was late in the afternoon when Maddox suggested we go to Pete’s after work. Getting drunk seemed like a viable option and the only one that would keep me sane for the time being, so I agreed. The problem with getting drunk, though?You stop thinking rationally and start making stupid decisions.And a drunk insomniac? Stupid wouldn’t even begin to cover it.
Jordan
When we leave this place, things will go back to the way they were.
Maybe for him, but I was stuck in the past, dwelling on things I should probably forget. I kept reliving what happened in prison, and the more I did it, the more it seemed like something I’d imagined. Something I dreamed of, or wished into existence. The problem was… I couldn’t let go.
I was still mulling it over when my phone rang.
“Where the hell were you?” Luz bellowed after I answered. “I have been calling and calling.”
“Didn’t you get my text? I told you I have an undercover mission.”
“That’s no excuse.”
Reasonable as always. Still, I told him what happened—at least the parts I was allowed to tell.
