Page 5

Five Years Ago

Alice

The room is spinning. Or is that just me?

I’m not exactly sure how I got to this party, but I think it had something to do with one of my roommates dragging me here in search of her boyfriend. Once they found each other, they ditched me to hook up somewhere in the house. Typical.

I look around the unfamiliar kitchen and try to pinpoint how I got so drunk in the first place. The countertop is littered with empty beer bottles and red solo cups. Ah, it’s all coming back to me now—beer pong. Lots of beer pong.

A cute guy with green eyes and dark brown hair roped me into playing and since I had never experienced the game before, I decided to give it a try.

Besides, everyone always told me I was the good girl that never embraced the college experience, instead focusing on finishing my bachelor’s degree in education as fast as possible.

Tonight I decided, I’m in my senior year, so fuck it, we ball.

“I think I might throw up,” I tell the cute stranger, whose name I still haven’t asked for.

All he does is grimace and point me to the patio door. Lovely. I quickly make my way out and find the nearest potted plant to nourish. Sorry, little fern. You deserve better.

Sliding down the nearest wall, I take a moment to feel sorry for myself. This is why I don’t drink or party, usually. I cannot handle my alcohol.

A text from my roommate comes through telling me her and her boyfriend left half an hour ago to “make up.”

I need better friends.

I don’t reply to her, and wait for another roll of nausea to pass, while I rest my head back against the wall.

I could call one of my brothers to come pick me up, but I don’t want to bother them.

Robbie is meeting with Alex while he’s visiting from out of town, and Michael has two young kids at home now that Lory joined their little family.

He’s alone with them for the first time ever since Tangela is away for a conference for the week.

There’s no way in hell I would call my parents. They’ve never seen me drunk and with any luck, they never ever will. So that leaves me one other option.

My thumb hovers over Jordan’s contact photo and I smile at how cute he is in it—arms wrapped around me, his mouth slightly parted as he sleeps. I managed to sneak a picture the night of my twenty-first birthday. The last time we were that close.

I don’t know if our almost-kiss that night made him pull away or if it was something else, but our friendship has been a little awkward ever since.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I push the call button, silently begging for the universe to swallow me whole. This is so embarrassing.

“Hello?” Jordan says in a deep voice, sounding a little distant.

“J, it’s me,” I say quietly. The sound of video game shooting in the background stops abruptly and I can hear the shift in Jordan’s voice as he realizes just who is on the other end of the call.

“Alice? It’s two in the morning. What’s wrong?”

“I, um—“ I mumble, my eyes stinging. I shouldn’t have called. He’s probably busy too. “I’m at a house party, somewhere downtown. I don’t have a ride home,” I say, sniffing back my tears.

“Okay, I’ll come get you. Can you go look at the house number? Maybe the street name?” he asks gently.

“I don’t think I can stand up right now,” I huff, annoyed at myself for getting so stupid drunk. “I played beer pong,” I say lamely.

Jordan chuckles but then sobers up quickly. “Are you alone? Did you drink from any other cups?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m okay, J, just drunk as a skunk.”

“Can you share your phone location with me?”

I place him on speaker, listening to the sounds of his breathing and shuffling as he’s getting into his car, and text him my location.

“I’ll be right there, I’m only ten minutes away, okay? Go sit on the curb please so I can see you when I pull up.”

“Okay, thank you,” I say, and make my way to the front of the house.

Eight minutes later, Jordan pulls up, and before I even have the chance to stand up, he’s out of his car and slinging my arm around his shoulder, grabbing a firm hold of my waist. The touch of his hand on my bare skin where my crop top rides up is scorching hot, and I take a deep breath so I don’t say something stupid about how much I want him.

“Watch your head,” he says as he opens the door and helps me into the passenger seat.

“Thank you for coming,” I say, giving him a sad smile and tucking my hair behind my ears, silently praying I won’t barf in his car.

“Of course. Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again.

I shrug. “I just drank too much. Beer is awful anyway, why do guys like it so much?”

Jordan chuckles and starts the car. “I’m more of a whiskey guy myself, so I couldn’t tell you.”

The drive to my apartment is slow as Jordan does his best not to jostle me too much, making sure I don’t get sick again. I’m still wobbly on my feet as he helps me up the three flights of stairs and into my apartment.

There is no sign of my roommates and I sigh a breath of relief, making a beeline for the bathroom to brush my teeth.

When I come out, Jordan hands me aspirin and a bottle of water, making sure I stay hydrated.

If I didn’t have a major crush on him already, this would be the moment I would develop one.

“Why are you so perfect?” I ask, swaying on my feet.

Jordan’s hands easily steady me, his large palms making contact with my waist again. “I’m not,” he says, frowning. “Which room is yours?”

I point down to the end of the hall and Jordan guides me to my room, flipping the switch that turns my string lights on. The room is cast in a soft yellow glow, accentuating the cream-colored walls. Stacks of books surround my headboard and nightstands, after I ran out of room on my shelves.

I watch Jordan as he takes in my space and the soft smile on his face warms me up inside. Does he like what he sees?

“This is exactly how I’ve pictured your room,” he says as he gently sits me down at the edge of the bed.

“You’ve thought about me in my room?” I ask, voice coming out more sultry than I intended.

Jordan sucks in a breath and meets my eyes as he crouches down in front of me, hands on my calf and moving down in a featherlight touch.

“Maybe,” he says, dropping his gaze and taking off my high heeled sandals.

I let out an embarrassing moan as the tension in my foot eases and he takes off my other shoe. Then his fingers dig into the arch of my foot, and I collapse back on the bed.

Fuck . All he’s doing is giving me a foot massage and I’m a moaning mess. I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on than this.

“Where do you keep your pajamas?” he asks, standing over me.

“I don’t usually wear any.”

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs. I smile, and even though I’m lying down and my eyes are closed, I can picture the exact shade of pink on his cheeks.

“Okay,” he says shakily. “Do you need anything else before I go?”

“Stay,” I say, my eyes flying open. Shit, did I say that out loud?

I slowly rise up on my elbows and look at the disheveled sight in front of me. Jordan’s white T-shirt is snug, and I let my eyes roam over his broad chest and narrow waist. His hair is longer than usual, missing his usual side fade. The curly black hair makes him look unruly. Fuck , he’s so pretty.

“I don’t think I should,” Jordan says hesitantly.

“Please.”

Jordan

It’s the goddamn please that does me in. I don’t think I could say no to this girl if I tried.

On the one hand, I’m glad she called me when she didn’t know what to do or how to get home. I want her to be safe. But on the other hand, did she have to call me ? I’m trying my damnedest to put some distance between us, but somehow she always pulls me back in.

Being around her so often has made it hard to ignore the growing crush I have on her. A crush that I know for a fact is reciprocated. The way she looks at me sometimes—like I’m her whole world—drives me crazy. I don’t deserve that look.

Even now, laying on the bed in her high-waisted shorts and yellow crop top, Alice looks up at me with those big blue eyes, begging me to stay.

I swallow hard and walk over to her closet, pulling out a soft pair of shorts and a plain white T-shirt for her to change into.

“Okay, but you need to change. You can’t sleep in your party clothes,” I say, reaching down and helping her stand.

She wobbles on her feet and holds on to my bicep to steady herself.

My pompous fucking ego decides now is the time to flex.

I try to bite back my smile as she stares at the muscles shifting under my short sleeve.

I hand her the clothes and turn to face her bookshelves as she changes.

The white shelves are tall enough that they almost reach the ceiling, and each shelf is carefully organized by what looks like genre and author.

My eyes snag on a cute cover—blue, with ice skates and headphones on it—and I pick it up to read the back.

“All done,” Alice says, and I turn to her with a grin.

“Is this a hockey romance?” I ask, already knowing the answer is yes.

The blush that overtakes her cheeks is so fucking cute that I have a strong urge to reach out and pinch her. I grip the book tight in my hands to refrain from touching her. That would be bad .

“Careful,” Alice says, taking a step towards me and forcing me to loosen my grip on the book by placing her hands on top of mine. “That’s the indie edition that is no longer available.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, and gently place the book back on the shelf. “You have multiple editions of the same book?” I ask, noticing the same title in a different shade of blue.

“Duh,” she says, swatting at my chest.

“Why?” I chuckle.

“Because,” she groans. “You’re gonna think it’s dumb.”

“I won’t,” I insist, and follow her to the queen-sized bed, where she lays on top of the comforter.