And yet, something hooks around my feet and stops me when I go to get up. I open my mouth, close it again. Then, ‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly?’ echoes Rod with a raised eyebrow, dare I say, nervous.
‘Friday was really nice.’ I grab my bag and clamber to my feet. ‘But, hey. Shit happens. Like I said, no use in making it deep.’
‘Yeah. Totally.’ Rod nods way too enthusiastically as he gets up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
‘I’m sure it was just a, like, one-off,’ I add, and suddenly, I’m the nervous one, yapping just to fill silence. I really do hate silence.
‘Oh, definitely. Sometimes that happens when you work with people, right?’ says Rod, even though his eye is doing this infuriating twitch that tells me he’s just shooting shit to fill silence, same as me. I don’t know what kind of experiences he’s had, but I can tell you I don’t usually sleep with my co-workers.
He opens the chain-link fence at the field’s exit so I can head through before he follows.
We both pause almost instinctively once we’re outside. Our eyes lock right on the other’s, tentative, nervous, a hint of theneed from Friday night. As cliché as it sounds, I’ve had a taste of this man, and stopping now will be agonizing. I look at him, and I can practically feel his hands on my hips, his lips against my neck. I sweep a hair from my face and tuck it behind my ear in hope that the motion will centre my mind on the present, instead of the wild clusterfuck of attraction that Rod Wilson has ignited in me.
‘One-off,’ I say again.
‘One-off,’ agrees Rod with a firm exhale.
Chapter Twelve
Repeat Offence
Rod
‘That was not a one-off.’
I watch the rise and fall of Jordan’s chest next to me, the gold pendant around her neck bobbing as she catches her breath. Her hair tickles my cheek when she turns to meet my eye.
‘No, ma’am, it was not.’
‘That was a …’ She lets out a laugh. ‘Repeat offence.’
‘An offence?’ I feign acting insulted, looking away with a ridiculous gasp. ‘That bad?’
‘Shut up.’ Jordan gives my shoulder a gentle shove, rolling her eyes. ‘If it were that bad, we wouldn’t be dealing with the repeat offence, would we?’
‘Case in point.’ Head still on the pillow, I roll over to face her, drink in the sharp planes of her face contrasted by softeredges, her full lips, the slight upturn of her nose, the stack of gold hoops and diamond piercings in her ears. I notice the way that strands of her black hair curl just in front of her ears, beneath the layers in the front, which makes me wonder if she straightens it.
For just a moment, I think maybe she’s doing the same thing – savouring this moment, as much as we know we shouldn’t. But she’s the one who gets us back on track, with a quick brush of her lips against mine before she swings her legs out of bed and pulls on her clothes, jumping into her jeans the same way she did that Friday. Part of me’s fine with knowing those things about her – you know, the superficial. That she wiggles into her jeans. That she has a tattoo of a hummingbird on the back of her neck. That she doesn’t eat gluten. Normally, that’s enough for me. But there’s a little bit of something that sneaks into my brain and takes over, calling out for more. More that I don’t have room for in my life, at least not yet.
She tugs her T-shirt over her head, and I see another tattoo – a queen of hearts card – on the back of her arm, above her elbow. With a glance back and a smirk, she says, ‘You’d better head on out before Rebecca sees you. Then the entire townwillbe on your ass, guaranteed. If that’s what you’re trying to prevent.’
Her words echo as I sit up. What the hell am I trying to prevent, anyway? Just the town finding out?
‘And you’re fine sneaking around?’ I say instead. It’s not what I intend on saying. It definitely doesn’t come out right.
Jordan smiles that same smile, but it’s a little emptier. Less playful. ‘Don’t worry ’bout me, Romeo.’ She reaches down and pulls on her shoes before coming back up, raking her hair behind an ear. ‘I’ll be just fine.’
‘Yeah.’ I mean, that’s good. Neither of us expects anything else from the other. Just this absolutely wild fling, no rhyme, no reason. No questions. I don’t have the capacity, and it seems like she doesn’t, either.
‘I’ll be in the garden,’ calls Jordan, slipping out the door just like that, and I envy how easily she does it. My eyes follow her until she disappears.
This is going to be an interesting summer.
‘Alright. It’s Dad and Champ today, how’s that?’
Tali shoots me a stubby little thumbs-up from the backseat, through the rear-view mirror of the car. She shields her eyes from the sun with a tiny hand and a grumbled, ‘Daddy! You forgot my glasses!’
