Forever (Friends #3)(15)

Without warning he lifts his leg and kicks a door open, making a couple kissing on the center of a bed leap apart in shock. It's got to be Cannon's room. There are posters all over the wall, some of beautiful girls wearing little clothing, but most of them are of NFL football heroes. Future aspirations, I guess.

"What the hell?" the guy yells at Tuttle, but neither of us say a word.




 

 

He starts to check the next door, but I rest my hand on his chest, stopping him. "That's the bathroom."

Jordan glances down at my hand resting on his chest before lifting his gaze to mine. "Still want to hit me?"

I slowly shake my head, waiting for the embarrassment or shame to come. But surprisingly, it doesn't. "I'm over it."

"Good."

We finally find a tiny room with only a plain desk and a narrow single bed in it. Jordan turns on the overhead light after he shuts the door behind us and takes me over to the bed, carefully setting me down. His gaze is searching, roaming all over my face, lingering on my left eye.

"Can I touch you?"

"Why?"

"I want to make sure your eye isn't worse than I think it is." He reaches out, hesitant, his hand hovering in the air between us. "Can I?"

I remain quiet, getting lost in his eyes for a moment before I finally give a tiny nod of permission.

His fingers are gentle when they land on my cheek, just below my eye. He presses down on my skin, shifting up until he's feeling along my cheekbone, getting closer and closer to my eye until I finally wince when he touches one particular spot. "That hurts?"

His voice is a low, sexy murmur that I feel right to the very depths of my soul. Even though I'm in pain with a swimming stomach, a cut tongue and a blooming black eye, he still manages to give me butterflies.

"Yeah," I whisper. "It hurts a lot. Your elbow is like a lethal weapon."

Jordan makes a face and shakes his head. "I can't believe that happened. Are you sure it wasn't Whittaker who nailed you in the eye?"

"It was you." I suck in a sharp breath when he brushes wayward strands of hair away from my forehead. I wish he wouldn't touch me like that. Look at me like that. Like I might still matter. Like he might still care. "You hit me hard."

"I didn't know you were standing that close."

"I was right in the middle of you two." I sound incredulous because I am.

"You were also beating me up." He smiles, the arrogant jerk. "Rather ineffectively, but it was cute."

I glare at him. "Don't call me cute. I was trying to hurt you."

His smile disappears, though I can tell it's a struggle for him to remain neutral. "You were trying to hurt me?"

"Yes." He touches my forehead again, like he can't help it, and I want to tell him to stop, but it feels too good. My eyes fall closed and I savor the feeling of his fingers skimming my skin, lightly searching around my eye. I wince again, and he pauses. 

"I see bruises."

"I'm sure I'm going to look hideous tomorrow."

"You could never look hideous."

I can't stop the smile from curling my lips. "You haven't seen me with a black eye yet, so never say never."

He chuckles. "Where's your phone?"

"I don't have it with me." I frown. "I left it in the car."

"Whose car?"

"Livvy's. We came to the party together." My eyes pop open. "I need to find her. I need to tell her I'm okay. I need to see if she's okay." I start to sit up, but Jordan stops me, his hands going to my shoulders and pushing me back down so I'm lying on the bed.

"I'll text her," he says, his voice gentle. Soothing. "Don't worry about it. You need to rest." He pulls his iPhone out of the back pocket of his jeans and his fingers fly over the screen.

"I'm perfectly fine." I'm also a liar. "I don't need rest. I need to get out of here." I sit up this time, so fast my head spins and I rest a hand over my churning stomach, closing my eyes again in hopes it'll ward off the nausea. But that doesn't help either, since my head is swimming. I carefully lie back down and throw my arm over my eyes. "I think I drank too much."

"How much did you have to drink?"

"Um, two beers? Maybe three? But I drank them really fast."

"Too fast?"

"Yeah, and plus I was dancing and it was so hot and crowded in the living room. I think that's my problem. I just need to cool down."

Jordan inhales sharply and shifts on the side of the bed, coming closer to me. I can feel his body heat, smell his scent, which isn't as overpowering as it was just a few minutes ago. "You looked really good out there," he admits, his voice low and sexy and vaguely irritating. Only because I think it's sexy. "Dancing with the girls. The dress. Your hair. You look pretty tonight, Amanda."