Page 34 of Jordan’s Breakthrough (Unexpected Love #3)
There are so many pieces we still need to figure out, and trying to do it through a screen is damn near impossible. I need to see him and hear his voice without the alteration of technology.
But that’s not going to happen. It’s impossible to get time off right now.
I rub my face. This whole thing is starting to feel impossible. I need something else to keep me busy.
I see David at the nurse’s station and take it as my sign. “Hey, David? Can I borrow your library card again?”
The lights are soft in the room as I browse the shelves, all the sounds muffled. I brush my fingers along the spines of the books as I pass, hoping one will magically jump out at me. Now that I’m here, I’m not in the mood to browse.
I haven’t been myself this week. I’ve been struggling to do pretty much anything aside from moping in bed. I don’t want to admit it, but Jordan’s and my nightly video calls are less than satisfying. It’s not him; we still connect, but it’s not the same.
I always thought I’d like doing long distance, that I’d be okay with it, but it turns out I hate it. No wonder no one wanted to try it with me.
My phone buzzes with a message as I scan the YA section.
I unlock my phone to see a text from Jordan.
THE ACHE OF SOMEDAY
I miss you with hands
that can’t touch,
a heart that stirs
but doesn’t ignite.
You’re soft where the world bruised me.
Warm when I’ve only known cold.
Yet still my body forgets.
It forgets how to follow desire
and how to trust joy.
But how can it,
when it never forgets
how to love?
I want to want it.
The desire,
the heat,
the ache,
…the release.
I want it all with you.
But the signal gets lost inside me.
A ship without a lighthouse.
So I hold you through tiny screens
that have no warmth.
Through endless texts
that offer little comfort.
Through soft words and bated breath
and the relentless ache of “someday.”
My heart doesn’t understand time.
It yearns here, in the waiting.
Teaching me to hope,
to trust.
Making me believe that someday
will eventually turn into
every day
in bed with you.
I read the words a dozen times, and my heart is hammering so loud I’m sure everyone in the building can hear it. I touch my lips as though Jordan just kissed me. Does this man even know what he does to me?
How do I even reply? What am I supposed to say? He’d sent it with no warning. No preamble. Where did it even come from?
Me: Y ou know that feeling when sex is so good it’s no longer about the physical touch but the emotions?
Like you’re so connected to someone you feel their soul more than their body?
THAT’S what your poem just did to me, Jordan.
You made love to me with your words. Sweet, hot, passionate, I-shouldn’t-be-standing-in-the-public-library-reading-this love.
My heart is literally beating out of my chest!
Okay, not literally because that would mean I’m dead, but if you could only feel it…
like, wow. I don’t even know what to say…
Little bubbles appear like he’s typing back, then Jordan says: W hat if she can’t help me?
The question throws me off for a second.
It’s not what I was expecting, yet it makes everything crystal clear.
Jordan is worried about his appointment tomorrow, and it’s bleeding into how he feels about us .
About me. It’s making him think about sex, about the possibility he might always struggle with desire.
Me: I think the correct question is, what if she CAN? I see the power of medicine literally every day, hon. It might take time, but you’ll find the right one. Until then, know I still love you and I feel loved by you (especially with poetry like that).
When Jordan doesn’t reply, I pocket my phone and return to browsing the shelves. I find a fantasy series that sounds interesting and drop the first three books into my basket, then head to the check-out counter.
On the ride back to the hotel, I get another message from Jordan.
Jordan: I wish you could go with me. You’d know the questions to ask.
I could catch a flight tonight and be with him for the appointment tomorrow, but deep down, I know Jordan needs to do this on his own. He needs to speak up for himself and recognize his needs. If he doesn’t, how will he learn to meet them?
Me: What if I made a starter list for you? Just to get your mind rolling?
It’s ten minutes before he replies, and I’m halfway to the hotel before my phone buzzes.
Jordan : And that, my dear boyfriend, feels like making love to me too. Thank you. XO
I grin .
Me : Let me think on it, but you’ll have it tonight, I promise.
As soon as I’m in the door, I set the books on my nightstand and get to work scribbling a list of questions for Jordan.
They come easily thanks to my experience in the medical field, but I’m able to personalize them based on what I know about Jordan’s struggle.
When I have a decent selection, I send them to him, then jump in the shower.
Lily is curled up on my pillow when I get out, one leg outstretched. I scratch her ear before sitting down.
Jordan hasn’t replied, which probably means he’s spiraling into the “what ifs.”
I call him, and he answers right away, yawning on the other end of the screen. “Hey.”
Yup, definitely spiraling. I can hear it in his voice.
“Hey. All right, you have your questions, so you know what to ask. Let’s box that up for tonight and talk about something else, okay?”
Jordan drapes one arm over his head on the bed. “Did you have something in mind?”
“I don’t know. Let’s make another list or something. Could be fun.”
“List of what?”
I think about it. “Let’s think of all the places we’ll visit someday.”
Jordan doesn’t reply right away, but I push on.
“If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”
He looks away.
“Come on, babe. Humor me.”
He fiddles with the leather cord he sometimes wears. “I don’t know.”
“It can be anywhere. No limits,” I say encouragingly. “Where were you planning to go before Graham died?”
He clenches his teeth, averting his eyes.
Fuck. I said the wrong thing.
“Sorry.”
He props the camera against the pillow, but turns back to the ceiling, without replying. Grabbing something from the bed, he tosses it between his hands.
“I’d go to Toronto,” I say. “Or Nashville. Or maybe Portugal. Oh! I know. Bangkok.” I start listing random places just to get a reaction. Honestly, I’m down for going anywhere. I love the experience.
“I’d love to go to Nashville,” he finally says. “All the music and museums. Maybe Minneapolis too, since it’s supposed to be a writer’s haven or something.”
“Nashville has all the yummy food and hot musicians.”
Jordan laughs. “Oh, now I see! You want to travel for the men, huh?”
“Don’t you?”
“No. I have my guy. I don’t need another one.”
His comment warms me. “Well, I don’t either, but I can admire a hot body when I see one.”
He chuckles, tossing whatever he’s holding into the air. “Fairbanks,” he says. “That’s where I was going before Graham died.”
“What’s there?”
“The Northern Lights. It’s the best place in the United States to see them. Someday, I’ll go to Norway too, but Fairbanks was my starting point since I can drive there.”
I smile fondly. “That would be fun.”
“And romantic, so you’re definitely coming with me.”
“I might be able to get a job up there.”
He turns to face the camera. “Really?”
I nod. “Might take a while, but yeah. Positions occasionally pop up in Fairbanks.”
He considers it, eyes never leaving mine. “That would be amazing. Just the two of us for like, six months.”
“Well, and our cats. And the horde of plants we’re going to adopt. Actually, scratch that. Your motorhome is full already, so we’re not adopting any more.”
He laughs, then goes up on his elbow to look around. “I don’t know. I think I can fit a few more. There’s still room on the floor and maybe over there, on my dresser.”
I burst out laughing. “Jordan! God. You have so many already. You should just move to a jungle. Then you’ll have all the plants you ever need.”
“Nah. Too many bugs.”
“If we went to Alaska, we’d have to get one of those UV lights. Not only for the plants. For us, too, since it’s dark there for a good portion of the year.”
“True,” he sighs. “Probably wouldn’t be good for my depression.”
“Hey, you don’t know that.”
He reaches for Clematis before lying down, facing me. She settles in against his chest, blinking slowly.
“I get so jealous every time you do that.”
“What?”
“Hold Clematis like that. Lily doesn’t let me. She tolerates it for like two seconds, then runs off.” My voice drops before I add, “Sometimes, I really need it.”
Jordan gives me a sad smile. “Me too, hon. But let’s talk more about where we’d go. Where would you be able to get jobs?”