Bad Rep
Page 77

Jordan growled in the back of his throat. “Keep that up and we won't be having dinner. We'll skip straight to dessert.” I laughed as I chewed. Moving onto safer topics, I asked him about Generation Rejects' next gig. “We're taking a few weeks off so I can focus on my mid-terms. And then Mitch lined us some gigs up until the holidays. I've got to do some thinking. You know about after graduation,” he said, looking a little uncomfortable.
“What do you mean? Come on, tell me,” I urged. Jordan rubbed his chin and looked deep in thought. I hadn't really thought about what would happen after Jordan graduated in the spring. He had seemed so unsure every time it was mentioned that I hadn't bothered him much about it.
Jordan picked up a chicken wing and held it between his fingers. He stared at the table top. “Well, the guys really want me to stick around after May. They want to try and take the band on tour for the summer. Mitch has a cousin who's a club promoter in Washington D.C and thinks he can get us some gigs up north,” he told me hesitantly.
Wow. That sounded amazing. “Jordan, that's great! You should do it!” I encouraged. Jordan smiled then, looking a little relieved.
“Yeah? That would mean I'd be gone a lot,” he hedged and my stomach dropped a bit. I hadn't thought about that. Jordan on the road. Playing music. With girls throwing themselves at him. Ugh! I would not think about that!
“Don't worry about me. This is your dream. You've got to do it for you,” I insisted, even if I didn't feel entirely sure. Jordan picked up my hand and kissed the soft skin on the underside of my wrist. Butterflies instantly fluttered their wings in my stomach.
“If only my parents could be as cool about it as you are,” he said, his face darkening.
I squeezed his fingers. “They'll come around. Or they won't. But, Jordan, you can't live your life worrying about what they think,” I said. Huh, if only I could take my own advice. It was so easy to say when it wasn't directed at me.
“Here you go guys.” Riley appeared at our side and dropped two plates on the table. A bacon cheeseburger, fully loaded in front of Jordan and Tequila chicken in front of me.
“How the hell did you know that I love tequila chicken?” I asked, more than a little in awe of how thorough he had been this evening. Jordan's lips curled up in an easy smile.
“I have my sources,” he teased. Riley coughed.
“He means me,” she interjected dryly.
Jordan frowned at my best friend. “Way to ruin the mystique, Riley,” he muttered. I chuckled and started eating my dinner. Riley rolled her eyes (her favorite expression) and left us alone. Before Jordan picked up his burger he looked at me intensely. I held a forkful of pasta poised at my mouth.
“What?” I asked. Jordan stood up and leaned over the table, cupping my face in his hands.
“Thank you for taking a chance on me,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to my forehead.
Well, damn. My fork clattered to my plate and I covered his hands with mine and tilted my head back, capturing his mouth. We broke a part a minute later, each of us a little breathless. “What choice did I have?” I whispered back with a smile.
Jordan grabbed my chin between his fingers and pulled me forward so that our noses brushed against each other. “You've got that right, Mays.” He grinned before sitting back down. We ate our dinner. We talked. We laughed. And we cemented why our relationship was worth the shit that came down like a firestorm around it.
I loved this man sitting in front of me. I loved him with every beat of my heart. Even though we had only been technically together for two weeks and known each other for less than half a year, there was no doubting what I felt. It was as clear as day.
It was hard to imagine what my life was like before he came into it. And I didn't want to even begin to contemplate an existence where he wasn't a part of it. It scared me with how entrenched he had become in my life. There was no ripping him out. Not now.
“Maysie Ardin! Please tell me you're here to take your old job back,” Moore called out, coming out of the back.
I lifted my hand in a wave. “Maybe in the summer if you'll have me back,” I replied. Moore walked over to the railing separating our booth from the bar area.
“I'm holding you to that, sweetheart.” He looked at Jordan. “Any way I can talk you into playing a short set next Saturday?”
Jordan made a grimace. “I don't think so, man. We're on a bit of a hiatus. But I'll let you know when we start booking shows for the new year.”
Moore grumped but accepted his answer. “Fine, fine. But I best be first on your list,” he warned, then reached over and gave Jordan an awkward fist bump. Moore looked as though he had never given anyone a fist bump in his life.
“That guy is relentless,” Jordan said, taking a bite of his burger after Moore had left.
“You're telling me. I can't wait until you play here again, though,” I remarked. Jordan raised his eyebrows.
“Will you actually stay for the whole show next time?” he teased. I kicked him lightly under the table.
“Low blow, Jordan Levitt. Low blow,” I threw back at him. Jordan laughed.
“I know, I know. But I'm holding you to that. Next time your ass is in the front row. If I have to tie you to a chair, I will. I wanna see your sexy face when I'm up there. Knowing I'm the one that gets to see you naked will make it all that much better,” he said softly, his eyes holding mine.