Dammit. Stop thinking about Matt.
I’m just worried about him. That’s all.
I force a smile as I meet Alexander. It’s not that I’m unhappy to be here, I’m just… distracted.
“Thank you,” I say, reaching for the glass of wine he’s holding out for me.
I only drink red wine for three reasons: One, it’s the healthier option. Two, it gives me a quick buzz without the hangover. And three, my clothes stay on.
It’s safe and predictable.
“You’re welcome.” His gaze sweeps over me, quick and complimentary but not creepy, before landing on my face. “I got us a spot by the edge over there.” He nods toward the other side of the lounge, where the view of the river is perfection. “It’s a standing table, but there’s a view.”
“Looks perfect.”
I make my way across the rooftop, his hand settling at the curve of my back, fingers trailing just above my ass as he follows close behind. Itshoulddo something for me.
But it doesn’t.
No butterflies. No rush of heat. No quickening of my pulse.
It’s frustrating as hell. I haven’t had sex in months, and I’m itching to sleep with someone. Jesus, I’d take a backseat make-out at this point. A goodnight kiss.Anything.Fromanyone.Somebody touch me, for Christ’s sake.
Which is saying something, because I’m really not the type to sleep around. I’m a relationship girl. TheI’ll sleep with you after the third or fourth date girl.
The only person I’ve ever had casual sex with is Matt, and that’s only because it wasn’t new. He knows me and my body better than I know myself.
Oh my God, does Matt know my body.
Holy shit, I could use a good banging from him.
Stop. Not Matt.I’m the one who shut that door anyway.
And why am I even thinking about that? Alexander’s right here, and he’s a catch. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Nice build. A great smile…
I could definitely get naked with him.
Plus, I’m having fun. We’ve only been here an hour, but he’s interesting. Easy to talk to. Witty. He’s the kind of guy I’d normally be excited about. The kind whoshouldtake my mind off things.
It’s been two days since Nate died and Matt went to Chicago, and no matter how much I’m enjoying Alexander’s company, nothing’s really loosening the heaviness sitting in my chest.
Matt talked to an attorney yesterday and got things moving to file a contest against Cece for guardianship. He was supposed to let me know if a hearing date was set today, and it’s just been… crickets.
“Jordan?”
I startle.Shit.He asked me something. “I’m so sorry,” I say quickly. “Can you say that again?”
He laughs it off because he’s a gentleman. “You mentioned you went to a concert last weekend. Who’d you go see?”
“Oh. A small indie band,” I say. “Field of Fires? They’re newer.”
His brows scrunch together.
I’m used to that reaction.
“I’m weird and like music nobody knows.” I laugh because I can actually hear Matt saying that. “And oldies. But not your typical sixties-to-eighties oldies. Fifties oldies. Nat King Cole. Billie Holiday. Johnny Cash.”
He smothers a grin but doesn’t say anything, so I keep going. “I’m not really into popular music. I like it for a night out at a club, but I’m never turning on the hits when I’m hanging out at home.”
