“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” I chirp. “I’ll order pizza and we can watch a movie once we’re done here. I assume the floor piles are for donation? We could always drop them off at the shelter, see if any of the teens have the same horrible fashion sense as you do.”
My joke has the desired effect when Jordan’s shoulders drop and his jaw swings open.
“Least my wardrobe consists of more than old man suits,” he retorts, and I bark out a laugh.
“You love my old man suits.”
“That's your advanced age playing tricks on your mind.”
I raise an eyebrow at my sassy little boyfriend. I’m glad he’s capable of coherent sentences now. Not that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy his performance as a dead guy. Squinting my eyes at him, I rub my forehead and ask in a frail voice, “Who are you again?”
Jordan’s loud belly laugh is a beautiful thing. The way his whole face lights up has me leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his lips and returning his goofy grin.
“I’m sorry I ruined our date.” Jordan turns his face into my neck to avoid looking at me as he whispers his apology.
“This is probably the best date I’ve ever had and we haven't even gotten to the food yet,” I tell him. And I mean it. Not that he believes a word I’m saying right now, based on his expression.
“I’m glad you think my utter humiliation is so entertaining.”
“Good, because it was. But that isn’t what makes this the best date I’ve ever had.” I smirk when one of his perfectly-sculpted eyebrows lifts in disbelief. I give myself a moment to just look at him.Reallylook at his beautiful face and soft features. Now clear of make-up, his skin glows. Jordan may look hot with his face made up, but I’ve never seen him look more beautiful than he does at this moment.
“I’m about to say something really gross, so be prepared,” I warn him in a playful tone. “It doesn’t matter what we do, whether we are at some fancy restaurant, a bar, or just folding your questionable fashion choices. Either way, I’m spending time with you. Seeing you drunk off your ass was just a bonus.”
Jordan stares at me, then retches. “That really was fucking gross.” He laughs, then leans in to whisper against my cheek. “I must still be drunk, because I kind of liked it.” He drops a sweet peck where his lips have just been, then sits back. “Right, well. You go order the pizza and I will put these questionable fashion choices back into the closet.”
I note the sarcasm in his voice, but I smile anyway. I do love it when he’s a facetious little fucker.
Two hours and one large meat feast pizza later, I’m sitting on the couch with Jordan’s head in my lap and a glass of wine in hand. I mindlessly brush his hair with my fingers, paying absolutely no attention to one of my favourite movies of all time. It doesn't matter, because I already know the dialogue by heart.
“So you’re telling me that eight soldiers, including a captain, went off on a mission in the middle of a fucking world war to find one soldier and bring him back home? Without even knowing if he’s still alive? Feels like a massive waste of valuable resources, if you ask me.”
“Well, it all depends on how you look at it. First of all, he was the last living son and they didn’t want his mother to receive five death notifications. Second, it’s a movie, and it would be a pretty lame movie if they picked up on four brothers already dead and just said, ‘Oh, well… shit happens.’”
“Yeah, I know that. It’s just the premise of the damn thing that kinda pisses me off. That, and the fact my eyes have leaked like three times already.”
The grin that’s been plastered on my face grows even wider. I knew he was crying when Vin Diesel's character died, but figured it was safer not to point it out.
“Spielberg, man. Fucking asshole.” I click my tongue and throw in an eye roll for good measure, even though he isn’t looking at me. I’m fairly certain his eyes will ‘leak’ a few more times before the end of the movie.
He hums quietly, clearly engrossed in the movie once more. Essentially dismissing me. I go back to running my finger through his hair. I’m pretty sure if he was actually paying attention to what I was doing, he would accuse me of petting him; but since he’s not, I’m going to take full advantage.
As the end credits roll, I pretend I don’t see Jordan wiping his hands roughly over his face to clear away the streaks of evidence.
“I think we need to break up,” he announces as he takes my glass of wine and gulps down a large mouthful. “I am not going to survive your obsession with war movies.”
I move my hand to rest on his hip, not ready to break the physical connection with him yet. “You do realise we don’t have to watch war movies if you don't want to, right?
“Of course I do. That’s your thing, and if we are together then I want to enjoy your things with you. But maybe we can find a war movie that’s not so fucking sad.”
Dropping my chin to my chest, I chuckle to myself. This man has no idea what that means to me. Never before has a guy been so willing and determined to understand me and my love of war movies. Might be silly to most people, but fuck—I think I just fell ass over tits in love with him.
I’m sure he expects me to make a joke right now, but considering how far in my feels I am, I act without engaging my brain. I snap my hand out and grab Jordan around the back of the neck. Pulling him onto my lap and kissing him hard, I pray that he can feel what all this means to me.
CHAPTER 20
Jordan
Pulling back from the most intense kiss I have ever had, I search Eric's face for some indication of what he's feeling. The way he looks at me, with tenderness and promise… no one has ever looked at me like that before. I can feel my heart starting to pound against my ribcage. “Damn, Dimples, was that because I died today?” I ask, in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.
