Page 7 of Jordan’s Breakthrough (Unexpected Love #3)

Oh. My. God.

Jordan bought yarn? After one conversation about crocheting mice? Shit, that’s… well, it’s unexpected. Either he really loves his cat, or he’s not shy about trying new things, and that makes me dangerously optimistic.

Bubbles appear as he types again.

Jordan: Don’t even know if they’re the right thing, but hey. Points for trying?

Hell yes, he gets points! All the points!

I find the wide-eyed, shocked emoji and send him two.

Me: Okay, YAY! I’m totally on board with this. Let’s nerd out together.

Jordan: LOL. Don’t get too excited. I still don’t have a clue what I’m doing.

I’m still grinning. It’s not hard, I promise. It’ll just feel weird holding it all in your hands at first.

Jordan: … mm-hmm. I can confirm. It definitely did…

It takes a moment. Then my cheeks heat as I burst out laughing.

Me: OMG! What I mean is… you know what. Never mind. We’re both gay. Dick jokes are always welcome around me. And you’re right! It IS weird holding one for the first time!

Jordan sends a thumbs up, then a laughing emoji, making me think he’d dropped his phone laughing or something. Or maybe he’s flustered I called him gay. I shouldn’t assume.

Me: Well, I’m gay anyway. I shouldn’t speak for you.

I bite my lip as I wait. Maybe it’s too forward?

Or he’s trying to backpedal? Or maybe he’s uncomfortable being called out.

But why crack a dick joke then? And why join the Plant Daddies group if you don’t like men?

The banner of the group clearly says, “Where We Talk about Men, Plants… and Other Things.” The ‘I’ in “things” is even phallic shaped, with jizz for the dot.

Jordan: I’m pansexual, I think. But yes, I prefer men.

I squirm again.

Me: Well, lucky for you, I happen to be one!

Jordan: Not so lucky when you’re a million miles away… or however far. I don’t even know where you are. Your profile doesn’t say.

He looked at my profile? Does that mean he’s curious too?

Me: Hey, don’t burst my bubble! I’m pretending you’re next door so we can do hot things together. (And I’m in Salt Lake City at the moment. Stationed here for another six months. Where are you?)

Jordan: San Diego. Tell me more about these hot things…

I smirk as I take another bite of ice cream.

Me: Mmm… nope. It’s too early for those details. You might run away, and I enjoy these conversations far too much…

I hit send before realizing how that sounds.

Me: Anywayyyy, let me find you a good tutorial so you can make a starter chain. If it still doesn’t click, we can video chat and I’ll walk you through it. Deal?

Jordan: Okay. (But I still want details.)

I laugh again.

It takes a few minutes to find a decent tutorial, and for the rest of the night, Jordan is quiet.

I check in with Jordan the following day, while dumping my craft store haul on the bed. I might’ve gone overboard, but I couldn’t decide on a color for the new pattern I’m going to try.

Me: How’s it going? Figure out the starter chain yet?

His “active” light turns from red to green almost instantly, making me grin. He sends a picture of a… well, I don’t want to be rude, but horrible crocheted chain. Each loop is uneven and too loose.

I stifle a laugh. “Oh, no.”

Me: Okay, that’s a good start!

Jordan: Yeah, yeah. I can hear you laughing.

Me: I am not… (much)

Jordan: I don’t know who’s judging me harder. You or Clem.

Me: Clem. Cats always judge.

Jordan: LOL. It’s true.

Me: Need help?

Jordan: Give me a few minutes and I’ll call ya on video, if it’s okay. It’ll just be easier since my hands are full (again with the laughter, man. It’s rude.) But I need some food first.

He wasn’t wrong, I did laugh.

Me: Lol, sure. I’m pigging out on pretzels and peanut butter currently, so…

Jordan: Ha. Actually, that sounds good… brb.

Ten minutes later, Jordan calls me via video chat through Messenger.

The image is grainy at first, but when it finally loads, I nearly drop my phone.

Holy fuck. His artsy profile picture did not do him justice.

This guy is gorgeous. Like, straight-from-my-dreams gorgeous.

Do you know how many times I watched Conan the Barbarian as a child? It wasn’t for the script.

Jordan is Conan personified, except maybe not as muscled. His long, wavy dark hair falls well past his shoulders, and he’s practically glowing with his bronze skin, wide nose, and dark chocolate eyes—the kind that pull me in and make me want to learn his deepest secrets.

I’m so totally screwed.

Jordan waves at me. “Hey.”

I clear my throat. Right. No staring. “Uh, hi. So, I’m Miles.”

He chuckles. “And I’m Jordan.”

My belly tightens. Damn. Even his voice is attractive. But I can only imagine what he’s thinking. A chubby pale nurse with glasses? Not sexy.

“Thanks for helping.”

“Sure,” I squeak. “I actually picked up some yarn before work, so we can do it together.”

Jordan cracks a smile, revealing beautiful, straight white teeth. He truly takes care of himself. “You did?”

I grab the nearest skein and hold it up. He doesn’t need to know I bought the whole fucking rainbow.

“That’s awesome.”

My heart warms. He sounds genuine. Like he really does want to learn crochet, not just to earn points with me or something. It surprises me. No guy has ever been interested in my hobbies before. In fact, they usually make fun of them.

Jordan’s screen shifts as he props the camera against something, then he sits back on the bed, cross-legged. His bare chest is doing nothing to lessen my attraction to him. Look at that stomach! So smooth and hairless. Perfectly lickable.

When he brushes his dark hair over one shoulder, I glimpse an anchor tattoo on his left inner wrist. Otherwise, his tan skin is unmarked.

Pillows are stacked to his right, and the bedspread is a crumpled mess, but who am I to judge? I leave making my bed for room service.

The video shakes suddenly before Jordan disappears from view. “Clematis, no! Oh, you little… CLEM!”

I snort a laugh as his footsteps retreat. The only thing on camera is a plain white ceiling.

A minute later, he returns, cheeks flushed and a fresh scratch mark on his left peck. He rubs at it tenderly. “Sorry about that.”

I stifle another laugh. “You’re fine.”

“Clem seems to think the yarn is for her. The little devil.”

“Use a pillowcase.”

His dark brows furrow. “What?”

“A pillowcase. Keep the yarn inside it, or under the covers. It’s what I do.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant. Hold on.”

The screen jostles again, making me a little nauseous. White fur and a pink nose appear at the edge of the camera but are quickly whisked away.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Jordan says. “You’re a little troublemaker today.”

When Jordan holds Clematis to his chest, my heart skitters. If I thought Jordan was beautiful before, he’s downright melting me now, holding his precious baby in his arms like that. She rubs her head against his chin, meowing softly, and Jordan kisses her forehead.

Yeah. I totally swoon.

“So, this is Clematis,” he says, turning the beautiful white feline toward the camera. “AKA, Butthead.”

I smirk and turn the camera around to show him Lily, who is curled up at the end of the bed. “That’s Lily. Say hi, Lills.”

She doesn’t open an eye.

I turn it back around. “Cats don’t make good wingmen, do they? Anyway, let me grab my crochet hook.”

I set the phone down, then go to my suitcase in the corner. I haven’t used the hook at all since I came here, so it’s buried deep in the front pocket, under power banks and charging cords. On my way back, I set the bag of pretzels on the counter as well.

Note to self: eat less junk food.

Much, much less.

When I return, Jordan is still holding his cat, whispering something I can’t hear.

“I think she loves you,” I say.

Jordan hums. “Sometimes. Other times, she’s planning to murder me in my sleep.”

“She’s a cat, so she’d probably get away with it.”

He chuckles. “No joke.”

I settle back on the bed, resting my phone against a pillow. “Okay, you’re going to want to hold the hook like this.”