Page 90 of Finley

As Jordan brushed by him and made a beeline to his kitchen, Brantley followed. He’d called Jordan earlier that morning, after he’d decided he was going to take a little trip north. And before he could explain further, Jordan had hung up on him and knocked on his door.

When Brantley stepped into the kitchen, he leaned against the doorjamb and looked over at his friend, who was rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, come on. I know you have to have at least one— Aha!”

When he turned holding a bottle of open champagne and a carton of OJ in his hands, Brantley screwed his nose up.

“I’m not really?—”

“Shut it. You woke me up at the ungodlyhour of four thirty this morning rambling about not letting him go this time, and if you’re about to go and do what I think you are, the least you can do is let me drink and listen to you pour your bleeding heart out to me while you pack.”

He rolled his eyes and walked over to grab to champagne flutes. Jordan made them both mimosas in record time, then Brantley picked his up and headed toward his bedroom.

When they got there, Jordan strolled over to the chair in the corner, carrying not only his glass but the champagne bottle too. He sat, looked at the packed suitcase, and whistled. “Well, fuck me. You reallyaredoing this?”

Brantley looked at his friend just as Jordan propped his feet up on the footstool.

“Got to say, Professor Hayes, there’s something very sexy about you right now.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No. I mean it,” Jordan said, and then took a sip of his drink. “Packing your bags to go and chase after your man. That’s hot.”

Or crazy,Brantley thought, but then his eyes landed on the leather strap sitting on the bedside table.

“Well, let’s hope he sees it that way.”

Jordan got to his feet and sipped on his drink. Then he walked over and held two of Brantley’s ties up, comparing them before he handed him the red one.

“If that little shit doesn’t see what a huge move this is, you let me know and I’ll come and personally kick his tight Hugo Boss–clad ass.”

Brantley took the tie from Jordan before folding it and placing it in the case. “Hmm…okay. Now I see why they call you Posh Spice.”

“What?Whocalls me that?” Jordan demanded, his eyes close to popping out of his head.

Brantley shut the top of the case and picked his drink up. “Finn and Derek. By the way, you have some explaining of your own to do. What is that all about, Professor Devaney? Derek Pearson? Are you out ofyourmind?”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Jordan turned on his heel and walked back over to the chair. Flouncing down into it, he kicked his feet out to cross them on the stool again.

“Of course he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I’m not sure why I’m surprised. He no doubt opens it on a regular occurrence for any man who asks.”

“Hedidn’t tell me anything. And Finn told me he was sworn to secrecy. So whatever you did with Mr. Pearson remains your dirty little secret.”

When Jordan coughed on his drink, Brantley smirked. It wasn’t often he got the better of his friend. Jordan was usually the outlandish one of the two of them, but that reaction…Oh, it’s telling.

“That dirty, huh?”

When Jordan’s eyes found his, Brantley had his answer. There was so much more to that look than his friend was saying.

“Youare going to tell me everything when I get back. You hear me?”

Jordan pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure you’re coming back, professor? You’re not going to get up there, fall madly in love, elope, and run away, are you?”

“Well, I’ve already done one of those three. So let’s just see what he says when I get there.”

Jordan flashed a blinding smile. “Oh, please. That boy has been head over heels for you since the day you met him.”

Brantley finished his drink and shrugged. “Things change.”