Shutting and locking the door, he steps up behind me, arms going around my waist as his chin rests on my shoulder. I turn in his arms, wrapping mine around his neck. “Hey,” I murmur.
His eyes dip to my mouth before he brings his lips to mine. He tastes sweet, but also kind of like— “Were you smoking weed?”
He chuckles, pulling back. “A little bit earlier when I got home. How did you know?”
“I can taste it on you. Do you have any more?”
“Why? You want to smoke with me?”
“Get stoned and eat homemade food? Uh, hell yes.” I laugh.
“Okay, I’ll be right back, then. It’s upstairs in my room.”
As soon as he disappears up the stairs, an idea forms in my head. It’s foolish and probably immature as fuck, but I don’t care. Pulling out my phone, I click into the camera app and take a selfie right there in Jordan’s living room. Switching over to my messages app, I pull up Zeke’s contact and attach the photo.
Me: He sure does have a nice house. You must pay him well. ;) I’ll send him your love.
Hitting send, I laugh out loud at the same time Jordan comes down the stairs. “What’s so funny?” he asks, smiling.
“Nothing,” I lie. “Just saw a funny video on Instagram. Got it?”
“Yup, let me stir the food really quick and then we can go out on the back deck to smoke it.”
“Sounds good.”
“You can meet me out there if you want,” he says as we walk through the dining room.
His backyard is as neatly maintained as the front lawn. The deck looks new, but not like it was built originally with the house. It was definitely added on. There’s a gazebo style sitting area off to the left with a nice table that has a firepit in the center of it. Off to the right, there’s a hot tub that I’ll have to dip into at some point. If not tonight, then soon.
The sound of the screen door closing has me turning around. Jordan’s messing with his phone as he walks over to the patio furniture under the gazebo. A few moments later,Dirty Laundryby Blackbear starts filtering through the few speakers he has around the area.
“Come on,” he says. “We can sit here while we smoke.”
From his pocket, he pulls out a baggie with a couple of nuggets in it and a rolling wrap. My eyes flit over to the object on the table beside him. A grinder.
“You’re full of surprises, Jordan,” I murmur, kicking back in the chair as I watch him start to roll the joint. I don’t know what it is, but there is something so unbelievably hot about watching a man do this.
He glances over at me before returning his attention to the task in front of him. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
Shrugging, I say, “I don’t know. You’re just not who you look to be on the outside.”
“You’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, Elias,” he teases.
“Yeah, yeah. We all do it.”
“True. But tell me more,” he urges. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, your car, first of all.”
This wins me a nice side eye. “My car?”
“For starters, your Grindr handle is NerdyBoi and you work somewhere where you have to wear suits every day… but then you drive a neon green muscle car that probably costs three times as much as mine does. It was unexpected.”
He grins before licking the paper. “Unexpected in a bad way?”
“Nah, not at all. Just unexpected. It’s hot.”
“Is it?” Another panty-melting smirk.
