That’s surprisingly sweet.
Dangerous ground, Taylor.
Jordan:
I’m a little dangerous, but only in a good way.
But mostly curious.
Dinner tomorrow?
I blinked.God, tomorrow? Wasn’t he playing?
Me:
Don’t you have a quarter-final?
Jordan:
I do.
Thought maybe you’d come watch.
Ticket’s waiting under your name.
Dinner after, win or lose.
I shifted up straighter, my heart now hammering.Ticket? He’d actually left me a ticket?
Me:
Cocky and confident.
You don’t make this easy.
Jordan:
Terrified, actually.
Still hoping you’ll show up.
I hesitated, staring at the screen as if it could think of an answer for me. Then…
Me:
We’ll see about dinner.
Depends how well you play.
Jordan:
Guess I’ve got all the motivationI need, then.
I locked my phone, feeling my cheeks flame and my heart thudding like a teenager’s.
“He left me tickets for his game,” I said, my voice a little breathless.
Gwen beamed like she’d just orchestrated a royal engagement. “Guess you’re going back to Wimbledon tomorrow.”
