Page 19 of Jordan’s Breakthrough (Unexpected Love #3)

JORDAN

I ’m in the zone tonight. Drinks are flowing, orders are moving, and tips are coming in hot.

But I’m also numb. Not depressed, but I’m not happy either. Stuck in an annoying in-between where everything just feels off. All I can think about is Miles and Charlie. The two things that mean everything to me, and the two things that feel so far away.

Miles hadn’t commented on my writing the other day, but honestly, I hadn’t expected him to. It was garbage. Nonsense. Wasted words written on a whim. I’d love for him to read Charlie’s story someday. That’s where my magic is. Or my poetry. If I ever write some again.

Something heavy clunks on the counter seconds before a man says, “Can I get something tall, dark, and devastatingly sexy, please?”

My heart lurches as I snap my attention up. That voice.

Air rushes from my lungs in a whoosh. “Holy fucking shit.”

Miles’ eyebrows shoot up, and a soft chuckle touches his lips.

It’s not my best moment, but what am I supposed to say when Miles shows up unannounced?

The beautiful man smiles, eyes softening behind his blue glasses. His sandy blond hair is slightly messy, and his face is covered in a soft scruff. His cheeks are puffed out in the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.

For five long seconds, I stare at him, unable to breathe as my brain tries to catch up to reality. How is he even here?

When I still don’t move, Miles arches a brow. “Maybe I should’ve asked for whatever gets you to kiss me?”

I finally laugh and toss the rag on the counter before stepping around Declan. He watches me curiously as I duck under the divider between the bar and service area. Fuck lifting it. I’d have to clear it first, and that would take too long.

“Excuse me.” I sidestep two women, then squeeze between a group of men until I’m standing in front of Miles.

He turns on his heel, cheeks bright red and brows glistening with sweat. The fact that he’s nervous only makes this more surreal. Miles is as cool as a cucumber. Nothing gets to him. Except meeting me, apparently.

Was this why he’s been quiet for two days? Because he was planning to surprise me?

“I can’t believe this.” I pull him into my arms. His soft, warm body is heaven. Comforting. I melt against it.

Miles hugs me back, arms wrapping me tight. His scruffy face tickles my neck as he nuzzles against it, and he smells of lemons and vanilla.

“Why?” The word comes out choked as emotions wrack my chest. I bury my face in his shoulder, yet relief pours into every cell of my being. How did he know I needed this?

Miles doesn’t let go, stroking my back. It’s a long few minutes before his words make sense. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I’m crying? I pull back and hastily wipe my face. “Happy tears,” I blurt. “I’m just… shit, Miles. You’ve shocked the hell out of me!” Literally. I feel like I might float away. The darkness is momentarily gone.

His smile returns.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you once that I have money to blow, and I thought a weekend with you would be a perfect thing to spend it on.” He gives me a challenging look.

Oh, he better believe I remember the rest of what he said that night: “I’d blow my money on him, and then I’d blow him.”

My body stirs with unexpected desire.

I cup his face with one hand, taking in every freckle, every line.

His blue eyes are brighter in person, even hidden behind the glasses, and he has a small scar on the left side of his chin that I want to know the story to.

He’s only an inch or two shorter than me.

Though his frame is bigger, we still fit together perfectly.

I can’t resist kissing him, and Miles immediately kisses me back, fisting my shirt. Someone whistles, causing Miles to pull away, cheeks flaming red.

A few people laugh, but I can’t look away from him. Declan whistles again.

“Fuck off, Declan,” I say. “I’ll tell you who he is later.”

Declan laughs. “I’m guessing this is the boyfriend?”

Piper must have told him, but whatever. There are no secrets around these people. Not that I care. I want them to know Miles. They just don’t get the details until later, because right now, I want to be alone with him.

“Do you care if I take off?” I ask Declan.

His face becomes comically blank.

“I know we’re busy, but please, Dec? He’s not from here, and you know I’d never ask otherwise.”

His eyes dart between us with an unspoken question in them, but eventually he nods. “Yeah. Go. We’ll be fine.”

“Thank you.” I grab Miles’ hand and start walking away, but he pauses. “Wait. This is for you.”

I finally notice the red ceramic pot on the counter, and my eyes go wide. He brought me a Ficus? I almost laugh. I was going to buy him a plant too whenever—if ever—we met in person.

Curling my arm around the pot, I carry it toward the front entrance. Vince nods at me, opening the door to let us through.

Miles has a bag over his shoulder, like he came straight from the airport.

“I hope you didn’t waste money on a hotel room, because that is not happening,” I say with a wry smile. Miles is definitely staying with me. Every single second that he’s here.

Miles laughs. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“How’d you find me?”

“Oh, you know. There’s this handy thing called Google.”

“I mean, how’d you know which bar? I don’t remember mentioning it.”

Miles lowers his gaze briefly. “I’ve seen some public posts you’ve shared on Facebook. Speaking of which, why aren’t we official Facebook friends yet?”

A bubble of laughter slips out my throat, surprising me. “Hell if I know. I’m only on there for the plant group. I don’t post things, other than occasional work shit.”

“Yeah, same here. Anyway, I figured a bar with the name Graham in it had to be the one you told me about.”

He even remembered Graham’s name. My heart squeezes.

I let go of Miles’ hand to hit the button on my key fob, then we load everything into the trunk. When we open the doors, I cringe at the mess on the seats. “Sorry about the depression hoard. If I knew you were coming—”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” Shame fills me as I toss loads of take-out bags and empty soda cans to the back so he can get in. This isn’t how I wanted Miles to see me.

Miles tilts his head, reaching for me with both hands. His eyes are soft, warm, and inviting. “It’s okay, Jordan. Really.”

His touch, along with his kind tone, instantly calms me. My shoulders relax. “How long are you here for?”

“I fly out stupid early on Tuesday morning.”

I take his hand and thread our fingers together, lifting them to my lips. “That means I get you for two and a half days, then.”

His cheeks puff out again, and he exhales hard, like he'd been nervous about showing up out of the blue. For a long moment, we say nothing, then his stomach growls.

“Is there anywhere to eat this late? I’m hungry.”

Now that he mentions it, I am too. “If you don’t mind tacos, I know somewhere close.”

Miles’ laugh fills the small space, burrowing into my heart. “Who doesn’t like tacos?”

My cheeks ache from smiling so big, but when I try to smooth it down, it just curls back up. I mean, Miles flew here. For me. No one has ever done something like that for me.

We end up at the taco shack near the beach, surrounded by rope lights and cheap patio furniture.

Scratchy music plays from old speakers and chipped salsa bowls rest on every table, tiny sombreros swinging from the mismatched umbrellas.

Tonight, a small crowd mills about, but the people don’t bother me.

The only thing I’m focused on is the man beside me.

We haven’t let go of each other since we climbed out of the car.

It’s late enough that the air has cooled and the lights from the city blur out the edges of everything. The waves crash in the distance, making me wonder if Miles would be up for a late-night stroll in the sand. It’s been years since I’ve done that.

It’s been years since I’ve even wanted to do that.

We sit at one of the plastic tables, paper plates loaded with carne asada, al pastor, and greasy tortilla chips. I bite into a taco and groan. “So much better than work food.”

Miles’ laugh is easy, like he’s known me for years. “Is that what you usually eat? Work food?”

I pick up a piece of meat that fell from my taco and eat it. “Declan deducts the meals from my paycheck, so it’s just easier.”

Easier than trying to take care of myself when the darkness hovers, that is. Cooking and eating healthy is a chore way beyond my means.

He’s quiet for a moment as we eat more, face soft and curious. “I get that.”

My mind is swirling with questions, but there is one I have to know. “What made you come?”

“Your writing, actually,” he says softly.

“What?” I can’t hide my surprise. “That garbage?”

He balks, dropping his taco and scrambling to pick it up.

“It wasn’t garbage, Jordan. Not even close.

It made me think…” Miles’ cheeks get even more red, and he bites his lip before finishing.

“It made me think you wanted to test this out too. In person, I mean. But I knew you couldn’t come to me yet.

So, I came here instead.” He seems less certain with every word, eyes darting between mine.

He got that from my writing? How? “You came all the way here just to see if we work together?”

He wipes his mouth. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Why?”

I can’t explain it, so I look away.

“You got…” He reaches out to brush some sour cream off my chin, and it makes me shiver. There’s so much energy coursing through me right now, through every nerve, that I can’t sit still.

It’s not even that he’d touched me. It’s that he’s here. Miles came for me. And he’s saying he came because he feels something for me. He wants me. Enough to get on a plane to see if it’s real.

That’s not something people do for me. They don’t want me. The darkness scares them away.

When I don’t reply, his smile fades. “Is it okay that I came?”

I reach for his hand, squeezing. “It’s more than okay, Miles. I’m just speechless.”