Me:Oh, my god! MOM!
Pete:How do you plead, Jordan?
Me:Guilty! For the love of God, please put me to death!
Mom:At least you got one last handjob, dear.
I close and delete the chat, hoping that my brain will do the same so I can forget the fact my mom just told me I have the same O-face as my dad.
CHAPTER 22
Eric
“So, fucking your paralegal, huh?” Drew asks me first thing on Monday morning with a shit eating grin on his face. I should have expected this when his little brother Pete and his husband Gavin walked in on me and Jordan this weekend. I roll my eyes at him and continue drafting my client's email. Maybe if I ignore him he will go away.
“Can’t believe you have been sleeping with Jordan this whole time and you haven’t told me. I’m the one who introduced you, I should get some kind of thank you gift, no?”
Not going away, then. Sighing loudly, I sit back in my leather chair and rest my hands on my desk. Drew is sprawled on the chair facing me, looking like some frat boy after the gossip and not the corporate attorney he is. Not so long ago, Drew wouldn't have lifted his head from his desk to get involved with anybody else who works here. Being married looks good on him.
“Actually, I met Jordan the night before his interview. So, technically you did not introduce us.” I shrug, a smirk tugging at my lips when he shoots forward, shocked by that nugget of information. I know Jordan told Pete all of this, so I'd naturally assumed Pete would have blabbed every single detail to Drew.
“Oh, yeah. That’s right, I forgot about the whole eye-fucking thing when you guys met. You realise people might think that you hired him becau—”
“You don’t wanna finish that sentence.” I quickly cut him off before he can insult my integrity. “No, I absolutely did not hire Jordan because I hooked up with him. In fact, I considerednothiring him due to that fact. You were right, though, he was perfect for the job. He got hired on his own merit—I can assure you and anybody else who wants to question me about that.” If my tone happens to be a little harsh, then all the better to get my message across. I do not want him saying that shit to Jordan.
“Well, congrats, man. Jordan is great. Is it serious? I don’t recall him ever being in any kind of long-term relationship, so this must be something.”
“It’s serious for me.”
Hopefully it is for Jordan too, but other than a few check-in texts, we haven't had a chance to talk since Pete burst in on us. I’m not really sure how Jordan will feel now that his best friend knows. Maybe it’s more real to him now, and everybody knows Jordan is a flight risk when it comes to things getting real.
“I’m happy for you, Eric. Just make sure that I get a mention at the wedding, yeah?” He winks and lifts himself from the chair, heading out of my office just as Jordan steps off the elevator. I watch closely to see if Drew gets slapped by Jordan, but Drew must know better than to poke fun at him, because he just waves and heads to his office, whistling to himself.
“Was he just whistling the wedding march?” Jordan asks. “Dammit! Pete told him, didn't he?” He sets a brown paper bag on the desk.
My eyes move over his face, looking for any sign of discomfort. When I don’t immediately detect any, I let my shoulders relax. “Yeah, he’s an ass. Ignore him. How did everything go with Pete?” I may sound a little impatient, but I’ve been waiting since Friday night to hear what happened. I know Jordan went with Pete to see Blake on Saturday. Then he and Pete had some 'best friend time' the rest of the weekend. I figured this conversation was not going to be had over text or a phone call, so I've been anxious this whole time.
Jordan’s answering smile sets me at ease. “It went great. I hadn’t realised how long it had been since I spent any real time with Pete, so it was nice.”
He starts pulling containers out of the brown bag he set on my desk. I get momentarily distracted by the smells emanating from them.
“Did you make cinnamon rolls?” I ask, leaning forward to get a better look.
“I did. I figured you might appreciate a treat.” His voice comes out in a husky whisper as he leans down and drops a kiss against my lips. “And a cinnamon roll.”
Fuck, I definitely needed that kiss.
“Better be careful there, Lashes. That was almost sweet. A guy might just get used to it.” I smirk at him, taking a huge bite of the delicious treat. A filthy moan escapes my throat when the flavor hits my tongue. “Oh m’ go…” Can’t say I’m even ashamed that I spoke with my mouth open. My Lashes deserves the praise—these are insanely good.
“I heard your porn noises. What are you eating?” Jackson sticks his head into my office, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. His eyes land on the box in front of me, but I snatch up the container and push my chair back away from him, chewing quickly.
“No chance, get your own boyfriend to bake you goodies.” I wedge the container under my arm and clutch it as tight as I can.
Jordan inhales sharply and I realise what I just said. His eyes are wide and I frown. Should I not have called him that? Does he think Jackson will react badly or something?
“Why the hell would I get a boyfriend when you have one? Best friend privileges—share the goods, Smithy.” Jackson walks closer, like he has a valid point. He fucking doesn’t. These aremine.
“I will fight you,” I warn.
