“Is there something else I’m supposed to say?”
“I don’t know, J. What do you usually say when faced with a picture of the cutest babies on god’s green earth? Do you think cute is sufficient?”
“Really, really cute?” He shrugs, but he has what passes for a smirk on his face, so I stick my tongue out at him.
“Now you’re just fucking with me.”
“You make it so easy, Hurricane.”
I look down at the picture just in time for another one to come through, this one of the babies in footie pajamas all cuddled up with Hallie and Hannah on Hallie’s couch. I miss them all so suddenly and so acutely that tears spring to my eyes. I blink them back, sticking my phone in my bag and staring at the floor until I can get ahold of myself.
“Bring it in, Jo Jo.”
I look up and Jordan is standing there with his arms open, right in the entry to his apartment. Without another thought, I walk into them, burying my face in his shirt and sniffling. He wraps an arm around my waist and tangles a hand in my hair, propping his chin on the top of my head.
I’m surrounded by him. His arms and his fresh laundry scent and his soft T-shirt against my cheek and his warm, hard body. Without warning, my heart speeds up and a little curl ofsomethingsnakes through my belly. Red flags fly in my brain becausefriends, Jo. I should really pull away before he feels my heart pounding because, how embarrassing. Except I like the way he hugs, so another minute shouldn’t make a difference, right?
Tell that to your tingling lady parts, Jesus fuck.
“You really miss them, don’t you?” Jordan’s low voice breaks me out of my very minor lust haze, and god bless him.
I sigh against his shirt. “Yeah, I do. I know it’s only for three months, but the babies are already changing so fast, and Hannah is getting all the good snuggle time. They won’t even remember me, and then Hannah will be their favorite aunt, all because I had to come to New York to have some big adventure.”
I think it’s my imagination when I feel Jordan press a kiss to the top of my head because that’s not really what friends do, right? I untangle myself from him and step back, glancing up just in time to see a flicker of the samesomethingin his eye that I just felt in my stomach, but as quick as it was there it’s gone, and those clear blue eyes study me.
“You could go back and visit for a weekend you know.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to get ahold of myself before the freight train of feelings I’m beginning to suspect I might have for Jordan leaves the station. “I hadn’t really planned anything, but I think I might have to. Three months is too long to stay away.”
“I have something I need to be in Pittsburgh for the last weekend of June. You could come with me if you want.”
I consider that. “Would we be back in time for the Fourth of July? I’ve always wanted to see fireworks over the Hudson.”
“Yeah, I was just planning on going for two or three days. A quick down and back. You would be here in plenty of time for fireworks.”
I give him a sly grin. “You meanwewould be here in time for fireworks. You are obviously going with me. Fourth of July in New York should beexperienced, J.”
“Well, then we will be back in plenty of time to experience it, if that’s what you want.”
I brighten immediately. “Road trip?”
Jordan makes a face. “I was thinking about flying.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Ew, why? Every New York airport is the absolute worst and by the time you sit in the inevitable Manhattan to Queens traffic, wait in line at security, wait at the gate to board your flight, and then get from the Pittsburgh airport back to Squirrel Hill, it actually takes less time to drive. Besides, I’ll bring the snacks and make a killer playlist. I freaking love a road trip.”
“You love everything.”
“See, you just get me, J. But there is one thing I don’t love.” I make a show of glancing around his apartment. It’s a standard, white-walled rental with an open living room/dining room that houses a big navy blue sectional, a massive TV hanging on the opposite wall, and not much else in the way of furniture or literally anything that tells me one single thing about the man standing in front of me.
“What’s that?”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I do not love this apartment. How long have you lived here again?”
He winces, looking around as if he’s seeing it through my eyes. “Two years. Pretty awful, right?”
“It’s just a little…lacking in character is all.”
“Well, come on into my character-less apartment. Are you planning on moving in?”
