“But you like your privacy,” she says, leaning her head to the side so I can finish undoing her messy braid.
“You can invade my privacy anytime you want.” I finish undoing the braid, then run my fingers through her silky hair, combing it until the tangles are gone.
“Really?” Her voice is soft. Her eyes are closed as I continue to play with her hair. She always did like that.
“Yeah. Give me more blowjobs like that and you’re in for life,” I tell her.
She laughs. So do I. She thinks I’m joking.
I’m not.
It’s not just the blowjobs. It’s the girl. Woman. After the incredible moment we just shared, it reconfirms my feelings. I want her back.
For good.
I didn’t fly to London with Jordan. He went with the team the day before I was scheduled to leave. He wanted me to go with him, but I couldn’t take the extra day off. I was already on the schedule at work, and they really needed me.
Work has been extra busy, and extra difficult, now that Cade is angry with me. He’s very cold when we work together, speaking to me only when he absolutely has to. On the last day before I left for London, he even switched me out with Lena so he wouldn’t have to work with me.
Secretly? I was glad. When Cade likes you, he’s sweet. When he’s mad at you and ready to shut you out of his life?
He’s awful.
But I didn’t let him get me down. Oh no. I was too excited about going to London, about spending time with Jordan in a foreign country. A place I’d always wanted to go, and now thanks to my ex-current-whatever-you-want-to-call-him boyfriend, he’s giving me the opportunity. I’ve been packing for days, constantly changing my mind, rushing out to buy new things, including a suitcase. I rarely use my credit card—debt terrifies me—but this trip is worth it to me to rack up a few charges. Nothing too out of control, though.
Thankfully, Jordan paid for my plane ticket, and he put me in first class. When I boarded the British Airways plane, took one look at the first class section with its individual compartments that also lay out flat so I could actually sleep, I had to contain myself from squealing with happiness.
After the long flight, I’m now in one of those iconic London black cabs I’ve only ever seen on TV or in the movies, headed for the hotel where we’re staying. We’re at the same hotel with the rest of the team, and Jordan and I are sharing a room.
Yes. Sharing a room. Another squee moment, am I right?
He asked me if I wanted my own room during our trip the morning after we had sex, when he was driving me back to my apartment, and I started to laugh.
Seriously? After that night we shared? Um, no.
There’s no use in pretending that we’re maybe giving this thing another try. It feels like we’re back together. For reals.
I gaze out t
he window as we speed through the city. I should be tired. I barely slept on the plane, despite how comfortable first class was. But I was too excited to see London, to see Jordan. Too wide awake considering we left in the middle of the afternoon. The ten-plus hour trip was brutally long considering how eager I was to get there.
It’s almost noon and the city is bustling with activity. Horns are honking, the double decker red buses are literally everywhere, and my head won’t stop spinning.
My phone buzzes with a text notification and I smile. I know who it is.
Jordan.
Tell me you’re in the taxi.
Still smiling like an idiot, I send him a reply. I’m in the taxi. On my way to you.
I add a heart emoji to the end of my sentence.
He quickly sends me back a smiley face emoji in response, though I see the gray bubble indicating he’s typing.
We leave for practice at two. Let’s do lunch. Unless you’re too tired?
Not tired, I say in reply.