Page 21

Chapter Seventeen

Jordan

If Cameron doesn’t show up, I will hunt him down and kill him.

There aren’t many people that I’m close with.

My home life made that difficult, thanks to my mother.

Austen is my closest friend, and I will do anything to protect him.

I have no idea what happened with him and Cameron in Vegas, and I haven’t asked because he won’t tell me anyway.

But it’s clear they fought about something.

Maybe Austen confronted him about his crush and it went badly.

I don’t know, and really I don’t care. All I do know is that Cameron was expected to be here twenty minutes ago—and he isn’t.

Austen feigns calm, but I see in his eyes he’s nervous as hell.

His fingers tremble when he reaches for his glass of scotch—a gift from Savannah’s father.

The bottle is almost empty at this point, and it’s not nearly enough to help him.

Not nearly enough for me to ignore how fucking good Alex looks in his suit, either.

It makes me sick that I even think that.

I shouldn’t, and I don’t fucking want to.

But for some reason, my stupid eyes keep going toward him, wanting to check out his ass or his arms or just his damn smile.

It’s infuriating. Thankfully, Alex hasn’t caught me, though I have a feeling he knows.

The little shit always seems to know. That’s why he keeps coming at me.

That’s why he keeps flirting and looking at me the way he does.

What we did in Vegas doesn’t help. I mean, you can get drunk and do stupid shit, but you don’t get drunk and do things you would never do otherwise.

It’s always something that’s lingering under the surface.

Something you’ve thought about. Alcohol just gives you the bravery to do it.

There have been too many nights I’ve fallen asleep thinking about him.

It’s no longer just images in my head but now there are feelings, and not the emotional kind, but the physical memory.

I’ve felt parts of Alex that I shouldn’t have. I’ve tasted his mouth. Had his tongue on my dick.

That… should not have fucking happened.

Once again, I tear my gaze away from Alex, who is laughing with Hudson. I catch a glimpse of Cameron walking in the door, and let out a breath .

Thank fuck.

I down the rest of my drink and moments later we’re ushered out of the room to line up with the bridesmaids. The girl I’m paired with won’t even look at me, and seems disgusted having to be so close to me.

Well, fuck you, too.

To be fair, she doesn’t hesitate when having to hook her arm in mine, and she does smile as we start to walk. Alex is ahead of me, and I try my hardest to not stare at his ass as he walks down the aisle. With my luck, someone would snap a photo of it.

As I walk down the aisle with Jasmine, all I can think about is how awkward this is.

Not only because I don’t know her, but because it feels weird.

She feels weird. She’s tiny and soft and way too pretty.

There’s a ton of makeup on her face and I can smell the hairspray from here.

It’s intoxicating, and nothing about it is attractive.

Who the fuck finds this attractive?

My stomach bottoms out as we reach the front and part ways, the realization of my thoughts hitting me all at once. I’m turned off by women. I, Jordan Mackenzie, am not attracted to women.

What the fuck?

It’s not that I’ve accepted that I’m into dudes, because I haven’t.

Not even close. It’s just that all this alcohol I’m consuming is making me not really care about it.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? That was the problem in Vegas, and if things keep going the way they’re going, it may be a serious problem tonight.

I can’t keep my eyes off Alex, and my body is not trying to stop it either. Even when he looks at me, I don’t pull away. He holds my gaze, almost like he expects me to hide the fact I’m staring. I never do. He’s the one who looks away each time, going back to whatever it is he’s doing.

Talking to someone. Getting a drink. Dancing. Just being a fucking goofball. Something I thought I hated about him, but right now I find endearing, which is just gross. What the fuck is wrong with me?

The only thing stopping me from going to him is all these people. Witnesses.

My head is mostly calm over this entire thing, again, thanks to the alcohol, but I have enough of my mind to not slam Alex against a wall and make out with him the way I keep imagining.

There’s a perfect spot by the bar that’s empty.

No party-goers, no tables, nothing. Just a good open wall that would fit his body perfectly.

I know he’d love it, too. It’s what he wants. He’s a brat looking for attention, even if it’s negative. I give him a hell of a lot of negative attention, and he always comes back for more .

The sharp clink of silverware on glass has the room going quiet, save for the music.

Austen and Savannah must kiss because I hear everyone laughing and clapping, but I don’t pull my gaze from Alex to look.

I shift my stance and lean against the bar, sipping my drink as I watch him talk to one of his cousins.

I’ve never met her before, but she’s older than them with a husband and a handful of kids.

He leans in to give her a one-handed hug, since his other is holding a glass of champagne. He kisses her on the cheek, then turns toward me, his eyes meeting mine. He takes long, confident steps toward me, and my heart skips a beat at the serious look on his face. It’s kind of hot.

Alex never looks serious, and for a second, I think he’s mad. But he’s never mad, so what would he be mad about?

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses when he reaches me.

I hold his gaze, sipping my drink and I don’t say a word.

“Are you trying to piss me off? Because it’s working,” he adds.

Still, I don’t say anything.

“Hello? What is wrong with you? Are you that drunk? ”

I blink, bringing the glass to my lips again. Alex pulls it from my hand and slams it down on the bar .

“Jordan, what the fuck are you doing?” he growls.

A smirk tilts the side of my mouth, his eyes blazing with fury and annoyance.

I love it.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” I say.

Those green eyes of his widen and he takes a step closer, lowering his voice and asking, “What the fuck did you just say?”

I reach to the side to grab my drink, draining it. “I said you’re cute when you’re mad.”

I gesture to the bartender for another drink.

“Don’t fuck with me, Jordan,” he says, his voice trembling.

Grabbing the new drink from the bartender, I give Alex all of my attention.

“I’m not fucking with you,” I say quietly.

He gives a small shake of his head. “You’re drunk.”

“Yeah, and?”

“I’m not doing this with you again.”

“Doing what, exactly?” I taunt, wanting to hear him say it.

I know he still thinks about it, but I want to hear the words. I want him to say it.

“You know what.”

“Refresh my memory,” I taunt .

His stare is hard, but then something flashes in his eyes, and it lightens. It goes back to the normal look I’m used to. The playful, needy look.

“If you want me to suck your cock, Jordan, all you have to do is ask.” I hold back the groan over those words, just the thought of him getting me off again has me hard in my slacks. He steps so close I feel the heat of his body. “Actually, you don’t even have to ask. Just say yes.”

I take in a long, slow breath, not pulling my eyes from his. I’m not going to say a goddamn word to him. I’m not really there yet, I guess.

“And if I don’t want you to?” I say after a moment.

“Stop fucking staring at me.”

He turns on his heel and walks away. His ass has never looked better.