Page 9 of Jordan’s Breakthrough (Unexpected Love #3)

He chuckles. “To be fair, I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. Give yourself twenty years and you might be at my level.”

“Twenty years, huh? How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine. You?”

“Just turned thirty-two.”

“Just? Dammit. That means I missed your birthday?”

“By about two weeks. May 7 th .”

He sighs. “March 29 th , which means you have ten months to figure my birthday gift out.”

I laugh softly. “Noted.”

Miles smirks.

“Do you want to go so you can work on the pattern?”

“Dude, I’m not even out of bed yet.” Then his brows furrow. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” I say immediately.

His eyes soften, and he lowers his voice.

“Do you want to stop talking, though? I can just keep you company, if you prefer. Like I said, I know what it’s like.

How suffocating it is. We don’t need to talk if it exhausts you, but you don’t need to be alone in your feelings, either. Depression sucks.”

His words wrap around me like a warm blanket. I’ve never had someone offer to sit with me in the darkness. Declan doesn’t. Piper doesn’t. They care and they both check in with me on occasion, but they don’t know how to help either.

“I’d really like that,” I say softly. “Especially if you stay naked.”

He laughs. “Fine. But only because you’re sad.”

Miles shifts back to his side, resting the phone against the pillow again.

He reaches for something offscreen, and a minute later I hear a barely detectable sound in the background, like he just turned on the TV.

He curls an arm under the pillow and doesn’t say another word.

His beautiful face fills my screen, calming me in a way I can’t describe.

It’s not enough to push the darkness away, but it holds me steady.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not alone.

I watch him until I drift to sleep a few hours later.

Miles calls me again the following morning.

“Before I get all chatty on you, be honest. Can you handle talking?” Miles asks. He sounds happy.

“I’m a little better.”

“Only a little?”

I shrug.

“Well, just tell me to shut up if you need to, okay? What are you doing today?”

I groan. “It’s family day.”

His brows raise. “Oh?”

“The last Monday of every month we do something as a family,” I explain.

“Aw, that’s fun. How big is your family?”

“It’s not my literal family. It’s my two best friends and one of their partners. Seth’s son is in town, with his boyfriend. So they’ll be there too.”

“Hey, chosen family is still family. Sometimes better than blood. And did you say partner? Your friends are gay?”

“They’re bi, but yeah. Declan and Seth are together. It’s just weird because we work together, you know? So it’s lame to have one more day together.”

“No, it’s not. Work is not bonding time,” Miles says. “Honestly, I’d love to see my family more than I do.”

“Where do they live?”

“Taylor, Michigan. Close to the edge of Lake Erie.”

“Near Detroit?”

“Hey, gold star for you! You know your geography.”

“Do you ever get back there?”

His brows furrow. “Dang it. Hold on. I missed some stitches.”

I bite back a laugh. I didn’t realize he was crocheting. The blanket lowers as Miles hovers over the pattern, counting quietly. I can just make out the curve of his bare upper thigh. It makes my pulse quicken.

Clematis jumps on the bed, eyes narrowed like she’s thinking of doing some bodily harm since I haven’t fed her yet. I sit up against the wall, scrubbing my face. The rough stubble is a reminder I desperately need a shower.

Miles curses under his breath. “Why do I keep—Oh! Wait, I see it.”

I chuckle. “Thought you said it was an easy pattern.”

He sticks his tongue out. “Shut up.”

Damn, this guy is cute. I can’t get enough.

“So why a travel nurse?” I ask, spying a dirty sock on my bed and tossing it to the pile in the corner. “If you miss your family, why not stay in Michigan?”

“Believe it or not, I couldn’t find a job there, since it’s a pretty small city. I could’ve gone to Detroit, but I don’t like it there. And the pay as a travel nurse is like, phenomenally better. I’m making three times as much as I would’ve back home.”

“To spoil all your boyfriends with?” I tease.

Miles rolls his eyes. “Hey, if I could find even a single guy to blow my money on, I would. And I’d blow him. Happily! But they never like that I travel for work, so whatevs.”

“No long distance?”

“Oh, I’m willing. They aren’t.”

“How about hook-ups then? For the blow job, I mean. Seems a perfect solution for someone living on the road.”

He makes a face. “I thought so too, but that got old quick.”

Yeah, I know that feeling. Eventually, it just makes the loneliness worse. Plus, I am rarely ever in the mood for sex, but that’s beside the point.

“How about you? Have you ever had a boyfriend?” he asks quietly.

“A few. Nothing too serious, though. Dated some women too.”

Miles twists to stretch his back, and yet again, my heart skips a beat at all that bare skin. “I had a boyfriend in college, but believe me, if I ever see that guy again, I’m running in the opposite direction.”

“Did he break your heart?”

“No, we just didn’t work out. I think we kinda used each other, to be honest. We were each other’s first openly gay guy outside of high school, you know?

So we were both an experiment, and we unashamedly took advantage of that.

But yeah, he woke me up to the kind of guy I want too, so I can’t hate him completely. ”

“Which is?”

He flashes me a smile. “Why? Looking to see if you fit?”

“Maybe.”

He chuckles.

I scratch Clematis’s back, ignoring her pleading meow. “What do you want in a guy?”

He seems confused. “You really want to know?”

“Tell me.”

He chews his lip, sitting back. His voice lowers. “I want someone who isn’t afraid of trying new things, but who also knows what he wants and needs. I don’t mind caring for someone—I enjoy it actually, but I don’t want to have to figure it out for him, you know? I want him to just tell me.”

“Make sense, when you figure stuff out for patients all day at work.”

“Exactly. I want someone who is independent, but who also enjoys my company. I don’t want to be their boyfriend just so they can say they have one.”

I pull one knee up to support my phone. “Like the guy from college?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Miles pulls more yarn from the skein. He’s quiet for a long moment.

“What else?” I don’t know why I’m so curious. It’s not like I can date him when he’s three states away.

Miles shifts, his face turning dreamy. “I want a guy who likes lazy mornings as much as I do, but who is also happy with a sexy night out. Someone with passion, but also romance. And before you laugh, yes, I do believe they’re different.”

“Oh, I agree with you,” I say quickly.

Miles smiles a little. “Your turn. What do you want in a partner?”

He didn’t say guy, like he knows he might not be the right one for me.

“It’s funny you mention someone who knows what they need, because I’ve been learning a lot about that lately. What I need, I mean. It’s very different from what I thought I’d want.”

Miles looks up from his hands, waiting for me to elaborate.

“I need patience and understanding, especially with my mental illness. I need someone who knows when to push me, but also when to pull me back if I’m getting too lost in my thoughts.

” Clematis begins kneading the comforter, pulling my attention away.

“I get lost in my head sometimes…” All the time.

Pretty much every waking moment is spent battling there.

“Anyway, I need someone who can let me be. So I don’t have to be on all the time, pretending I’m okay. ”

“Oh, my God. Say it louder!” he teases. “I hate being on all the time at work. It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I need alone time. My bestie calls me an ambivert since I am an introvert masquerading as an extrovert.”

“I’m a hundred percent introvert.”

He smirks. “Anything else?”

“I need someone who…” My heart skips a beat. Have I revealed too much?

“What?” he prods gently, like cracking open a door, but just barely, hesitantly. “Don’t hold back now.”

I suck in a breath, then decide to let him in. “I need someone who can be patient about sex. Because if there’s anything that’s truly frustrating about depression? It’s the lack of sex drive.”

Miles presses his lips together in a thoughtful line. “I remember that. But I think that’s where it circles back to understanding, right? If someone understands you, they know you don’t have control over it.”

“You make it sound easy.”

He stifles a laugh. “Oh, honey, I know it’s not. I just believe in communication. Besides, you can still be intimate without being sexual. It’s not an impossible request. Or, at least, it shouldn’t be.”

My heart clenches. Does he really believe that?

“It’s not that I… can’t get aroused, it’s that it’s so infrequent, you know? I can’t just go on a hot date and expect to… do that. It’s not like that for me. It’s always unexpected.”

“But again, understanding,” he says simply. “It’s all tied together.”

“I guess.” I pick at the sheets. Finding someone who understands me is like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces. Most days I don’t even understand myself. “Anyway, be right back. I gotta piss.”

“TMI, dude.”

I disappear into the bathroom. When I come back, Clematis is gently batting at the phone with one paw. I snag it before she can knock it off the bed.

“Hey, do you want to see my plant collection?”

Miles instantly perks up. “Yes!”

Switching the camera to the front lens, I walk through my house, avoiding the messy areas as I show Miles every plant. His excitement and praise makes my chest puff out a little.

“Damn. I’m like, crazy jealous right now.”

“This one is Pixie,” I say, touching the rabbit’s foot fern. “She was the first plant I ever bought.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Thought the name would give me good luck. Now I have four of them.”

Miles laughs.

“What was your first?”

“Oh, hell if I know. I don’t keep mine long enough to remember them.”

I gasp. “You have flings with your plants? I could never!”

“Well, I don’t have a choice. It’s not like I can travel with them.”

I hadn’t thought about that. “What do you do with them, then?”

“Give them to co-workers or patients before I leave.”

“You raise them just to give them away?”

Miles shrugs. “Why not? They make me happy, and then they make other people happy, so win-win.” Does this guy’s kindness ever end? “I only have one at the moment. Here.”

He shows me a plant with red, waxy flowers.

“That’s an anthurium. I have one too.”

I turn around to show him.

“Wait, is that… do I see a steering wheel?”

“Yeah. I live in a motorhome.” I walk closer, showing him the captain’s chairs.

“Okay, wow, Jordan. You are like, literally, living my dream! I’ve been wanting a motorhome for years, especially for work.”

“Where are you staying now?”

“In hotels, which is really lame, I know.”

“Not so lame if you get to see all the cities.”

“Have you gone on any trips with the motorhome?”

There it is, that familiar wave of sadness that drowns me, and I look away.

Miles notices immediately and picks up his phone. “Where’d you go? Was it something I said?” Because he sees me. Miles truly sees me.

I’ve never met anyone like him.

But could I do it? Let someone see me, fully? My grief, my depression, my... ugliness?

Would he run away?

Choose, Jordan.

Open the door, or slam it shut?