Page 17

JORDAN

P reston’s bed smelled like him. It comforted me the same way a bear hug did from him or the way he laughed with me, not at me. My eyes prickled as tears welled, my emotions getting the best of me. White-hot shame had those tears spilling out.

Preston was right. Why was I being like this?

Oh. My dear old mother, that was why. She sent me an email. She didn’t call or text, no, that would be too much.

Jordan,

I’ve decided to sell the house, effective immediately.

I have already gone through and taken what matters to me.

As for the rest, I suggest you come and collect your items before the New Year.

Anything left behind will be thrown out.

It’s time to move on, don’t you think? You’re an adult now, and I assume you understand that sentimentality doesn’t pay bills.

Frankly, I’m surprised you even want any of that junk. You were never the easiest child to raise, always so dramatic about everything. It’s no wonder you struggle to settle down. Maybe this will teach you to let go of the past and stop holding on to things—or people—who don’t serve you .

Best regards,

Mother

P.S. Your internship coordinator tells me you’re not doing well. You know the deal: if you get below a C, I stop any financial help. She’ll send me your grade next spring.

She hit me with the usual two-punch attack.

I wasn’t easy to raise, and I was dramatic.

Then the kicker of picking apart my grade.

College was supposed to be my escape, with no ties to my mom, yet she kept communicating.

Rage bubbled under my skin and weaved its way into my mind, cloaking every thought and feeling.

I couldn’t fail events class. Not just because my mom threatened me financially but because I knew I could do it.

I was great at chaos and making split-second decisions.

I enjoyed the thrill of events and problem-solving.

The reason I had a C was because I’d been sick for a midterm and hadn’t done well on a test.

Who on god’s green earth needed to pass a multiple-choice test for event planning? It made no sense, but that meant I had to nail the hockey gala. Which… how the fuck would I get it all completed with a blizzard? I pulled out my phone, staring at my list.

Finish Decorations: Assemble 20 table decorations using available materials despite the blizzard.

Coordinate with Venue: Confirm access, set up timelines, and ensure heating and lighting are ready.

Confirm Guests: Contact attendees to confirm who can make it and address travel issues.

Check Catering/Vendors: Ensure catering and vendors are still on schedule; prepare for delays.

Organize Volunteers: Assign tasks for setup and handle potential staff shortages.

Test Technology: Ensure microphones, projectors, and any A/V equipment are working.

Update Donors: Communicate event updates to sponsors and key donors.

Prepare Backups: Plan for cancellations, lower attendance, or event rescheduling if needed.

Finalize Details: Double-check seating charts, name tags, and guest materials.

Emergency Kit: Pack essentials like scissors, tape, glue, and extra decorations

I could do some of these here, but visualizing placements would be better at the venue.

Preston’s words repeated though, about being stubborn and stupid with a blizzard.

I’d have to do it here. It wasn’t like he’d let me steal his truck and drive there, and I knew better than to push him.

My chest tightened with regret. In my desperation to earn my mom’s praise, something I’d been chasing my entire life, I’d disappointed my two closest friends.

Jordan: Hey, I’m sorry if I worried you. This event and my mom got in my head.

Logan: I’m glad you’re okay. Are you and Preston headed over here?

Jordan: I uh… might’ve overreacted and demanded I was staying here to work on stuff for the event. Preston chose to stay with me.

Logan: GOOD. I’m glad he is, but get your shit together, Dan the Man. You’re being more reckless than normal, and I’m worried.

I hissed at her text. Her words hurt. They were true, and she was about the only one who I’d let say that to me.

The past month had been a lot—from the event, the holidays my mom didn’t seem to care about with me, Preston…

I squeezed my ey es shut and set my phone down. I needed to apologize to Preston.

He’d never say it, but I could tell he was contemplating pushing me away. It was only natural. I could only piss people off so many times before they were done with me, and I was approaching that number with him.

Apologizing tasted like soap and acid for me. My ribs ached as I went downstairs slowly, hating that I’d upset him. The cycle always went like this—lash out, feel like shit, make up.

Two deep voices carried down the hallway, and I froze. Who is here?

“The guys all went to family or girlfriend’s houses, and I wasn’t about to stay there alone.”

“So you show up here?” Preston said, his voice easy to recognize. I knew his voice anywhere.

“Yes. Mom insisted I do it.”

Was that Preston’s brother, Price?

“She thinks it’s be a great idea for us to hang out. Talk. Deal with our family bullshit.”

“Fuck. She would say that.” Footsteps paced, and Preston froze at the entrance to the kitchen once he spied me. He narrowed his eyes, his gaze moving toward the door. “Were you about to sneak out?”

I shook my head. “No, no, no I wasn’t.”

“Then why were you sneaking?”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

“You’re standing on your tiptoes, half-crouched like you’re about to attack.” Preston’s lips twitched as he gestured from my toes to my head. “You also have this look on your face.”

“I always have a look on my face,” I quipped, not caring that I sounded ridiculous. “I heard voices and wanted to see who was here.”

“My brother. ”

“Yes, in my spying I figured that out.”

Preston’s gaze softened for a beat, but then he masked it. “He didn’t want to stay at the football house so he was coming here for the next day. Is that alright? I don’t want you uncomfortable at all.”

I waved a hand in the air. “Another athlete in the house? Please. I love it.”

Preston’s eye twitched, but he pressed his lips together in a tight smile, his shoulders slightly slumped. “You’ve met Price before, but he hasn’t been here in a while.”

“Hey, Price.” I walked into the kitchen and smiled at Preston’s twin brother. He looked a lot like Preston but had long hair in a man-bun. He also had a more weathered face, where Preston’s was more clean-shaven. “Hope you’re ready to work.”

“Work? What kind we talking, J?”

I grinned and clapped my hands, enjoying the attention of both twin Charming boys. While I’d never say it to Preston, I was glad Price was here. The two of them needed to talk and deal with their parents’ divorce, but that wouldn’t happen unless they relaxed. “Centerpieces.”

“Uh, what? Why?” Price asked, frowning at his brother.

“Don’t look at me, she’s the boss here.”

“Your boss is prettier than mine.”

“Why thank you.” I patted Price’s shoulder but kept my attention on Preston. It was so simple, but I liked him calling me pretty. “Pres, can you help me carry everything down here so we can work?”

“Sure, but suggestion.” He swallowed. “I think we should do it in the living room since there is a fireplace. I’d rather be in there if the power goes out.”

“Preston hates blizzards, J. Did he ever tell you the time our power went out and we had to sleep in our car for half a night just for heat? It was fucked. ”

My gaze snapped to Preston. I never knew that story. The ball of regret deep in my gut doubled in size. If that happened to him and I was careless…I swallowed, the emotion aching in my throat.

“Price, that was a long time ago.” Preston’s voice was light, but his jaw flexed. “Let’s grab your stuff, J. ”

Did he say that with a tone?

I shook it off and jogged up the stairs to my room where ten bags of stuff lay. Once Preston stepped into the room, I jumped to shut the door and lean against it. “Hey,” I said, breathless.

He picked up a few bags and frowned once he saw me. His hazel eyes shifted, almost like he was concerned. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“I’m apologizing.” My heart raced, and my palms sweat, and everything felt weird.

“Oh, well then, carry on.” He set the bags down and crossed his arms. He had no business being this sexy. He wore a green sweatshirt and joggers, the material clinging to all his thick muscles. His hair was also messy from wearing a hat earlier, and I had the urge to run my fingers through it.

“I-I—” I stopped, nerves gripping my throat like daggers. My eyes prickled, and my chest ached. I stared at my unmade bed, my pajamas from last night all crumpled and in a ball. “I’m sorry. God, this is hard.”

“Jordan,” he whispered my name kindly. “Hey, look at me.”

I did, and he smiled. With that simple gesture, my nerves left, and I took a deep breath. “Apologizing is so difficult for me. I don’t know why.”

“Family trauma. It tends to stay with us.”

I snorted, but the tears spilled over, and I quickly wiped them. “I’m sorry I worried you. I had no idea…”

He waved a hand in the air and stepped toward me, squeezing my forearm in a comforting gesture. “Price shouldn’t have shared that.”

“I wish you would’ve. I wouldn’t have acted so?—”

“Careless? Stupid?” he finished.

“Mm, careless, yes.” I sighed and moved closer to him, resting my forehead on his chest. He rubbed my back with one hand, the other arm wrapping around me. “I’m sorry, Preston. I shouldn’t have acted like that or been so obsessed with the project that I forgot to be safe.”

“I’m sorry I told you I’d tie you to my bed. That wasn’t my best moment.”

I weaved my arms around him, his body thick and strong and hard compared to my soft curves. “In the right context, it could be fun.”

He laughed before resting his chin on top of my head. “Also true. Now, can you tell me what happened? You only act out when something upsets you.”

He tried pulling away, but I gripped him tighter, resting against him instead of facing him. “It was my mom. She gave me two days to come home and get my stuff before she throws it out. Called me dramatic, threatened if I get a C in my event internship she’ll pull my financial help. The usual.”

Preston’s muscles tensed while his touch remained light. “I’m so sorry, Jordan.”

“I’ve lowered my expectations for her for years. I have zero expectations for her to be in my life, but I don’t know why it still hurts every time.”

“Because parents are supposed to love us unconditionally.” Something soft touched my forehead, and I was pretty sure he kissed me.

That simple gesture caused my heart to flutter. No one did sweet things to me like that. Just Preston.

“Despite the divorce and how uncomfortable it is, I know my parents love us in their own way. That was never in question. I could call now, and they’d drop everything to help out, to be here, whatever. You might not have that with your mom, but you do with Logan, me, the Harts.”

Until you all decide I’m too much.

I cleared my throat, hoping the inner-voice shut the hell up. It quieted but definitely remained, causing my deepest fears to rise to the surface. “Prest?—”

“I love you, Jordan. I always will, but it’s not fair or cool when you take it out on me. It’s really frustrating. It’d be so much easier if you’d talk to me about it.”

My tears welled up again. He was right. Of course he was right.

But things were different post-hotel, and I didn’t know what that meant.

We could pretend and dance around this new level of our relationship, but that was the root of it.

I was waiting for him to walk away at any point, so why not give him a nudge?

“Can you promise you’ll try?” Preston’s voice came out gentle. “I know you’re protecting yourself, but I wish you’d realize you don’t have to protect yourself from me. ”

I nodded against his chest, letting his words wash over me and soothe me.

He meant the words, truly, but he also didn’t realize that he’d eventually get sick of me.

But I dwelled on myself enough. I was over myself and my own shit.

I’d rather focus on him or the event. “Are you okay with Price being here?”

When he pulled back this time, I let him. I wanted to watch his face, read his expression. My guilt had me wanting to comfort him, make sure he was okay.

“Honestly? Yeah. He’s always kinda forced his way into things where I avoid them.

I’m glad he’s here, glad he’s safe. The story he shared did happen and fucked me up.

Blizzards and storms freak me out, and I’d rather know the people I care about are safe.

” He sighed, and his breath hit my face. That was how close we were .

“That makes sense,” I said, noting how his easy smile returned. “And your parents?”

“They’re with their own siblings, safe with a generator and food for a few days.” Preston chewed the side of his lip. “I didn’t check our food rations. We should take stock and have a plan.”

“We’ll be alright,” I said, mainly to reassure him. Blizzards usually cleared out after a few days, and I knew we had enough to survive that. “But let’s go look.”

I held out my hand, and he took it, a soft smile on his lips as he stared at our joined hands. The second he caught me watching him, the smile fell. He winked before letting go.

I had absolutely no idea why my heart tripped on itself. None at all.