“Raoul can suck it!” I laughed.
“Mature.” She slowly crawled off me and leaned back against the pillow, her face flushed. “That was incredible.”
“That”—I leaned down and kissed her nose—“was just round one.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
REID
A pillow was covering my face. The sheet had somehow been ripped from the bed and was dangling halfway across one of the lamps in the corner and Jordan was asleep, shivering, in the middle of the bed, naked.
I laughed and covered her with the comforter, then kissed her head and walked out of the room.
It was morning, though I wasn’t sure how early, nor did I care after that marathon last night.
Forget round one.
Round two included ice cubes.
Round three featured a bit of standing and maneuvering and a pulled hamstring.
Round four took place halfway off the mattress.
Round five was a good idea, but we decided against it when neither one of us could keep our eyes open long enough to kiss.
I was wiped.
In the best possible way.
It was impossible to hide my smile as I made my way into the kitchen in search of some coffee.
“So,” Max said from behind a newspaper. How was he already dressed? He turned a page. “Either you just gave me a little niece or nephew or, bummer, you had to go down to the lobby last night. But by the sounds of it, I don’t think it killed the moment at all.”
I lowered my middle finger over the page.
He pulled the newspaper back and grinned. “Hey, at least we’re even now. No going behind each other’s backs and doing anything crazy. Right? The war between brothers ends, right here, right now?”
My eyes narrowed. “How do I know you’re going to keep your word?”
Max sighed. “I thought you might ask that.” He reached into his front pocket and placed a key on the table, sliding it across the granite. “It’s yours.”
“What is this?”
“They key to the Seattle house.” Max sighed. “I promised you I’d give it to you if you could stay in a committed relationship for longer than a week, and by my calculations”—he checked his watch—“wow, almost eight days! Well done.”
“I’m confused.” I pocketed the key. “I’m not in a relationship.”
Max’s eyebrows furrowed. “But Jordan?”
“I mean”—I scratched my head—“we haven’t labeled it or anything, at least not yet. I don’t know, man.”
“But you slept with her,” Max pointed out. “By the loud screams and banging, she could be carrying Reid Jr. and you’re not sure about it?”
“Max—” I really didn’t want to have this conversation now or explain my fears that Jordan was going to bail on me the minute I wanted to turn things serious. “We’re having fun. That’s all that matters, all right?”
Max’s mouth formed an O. “Fine, but the house is still yours. A bet is a bet. And like I said, it sure sounds like you won last night.”
“Four times.” I puffed out my chest while Max held up his hand for a high five.
“Knew you were my brother.” He laughed. “Now, make the girl breakfast. It’s the least you can do after all you’ve put her through.”
“Right.” I eyed the fridge. “You gonna help?”
“Sorry.” Max made a face. “I’m busy doing anything but that. Besides, all I managed to grab at the little store in the lobby were a few protein bars, so you probably need to order room service.” He yawned. “And our plane leaves in four hours, so get the girl up.”
“Right.” I snatched the room service menu and padded back to the room.
Jordan wasn’t in bed.
Frowning, I went to the bathroom and knocked. “Hey, we need to order some breakfast, you know what you want?”
Her reply was muffled. “Um, just order me some oatmeal with fruit or something.”
“You sure you don’t want something more substantial? We had a long night last night . . .”
“No!” She shouted. “No, that’s . . . it’s fine. That’s fine.”
“Are you showering?”
“Yeah.”
“Want me to join you? I can—”
“Actually, I just finished, sorry. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Oh.” I licked my lips. “Okay, I’ll just grab your oatmeal then.”
“Thanks.”
I walked off, a bit confused, but then again, women were usually weird after sex, right? And she was probably just doing what Jordan does, which is overthink every damn thing. I made a mental note to ask her if she was okay. I typically didn’t do that thing where the guy talks to the girl afterward and makes sure everyone’s on the same level.
But for her I would.
Because I cared for her.
Because I saw myself with her.
Not just next week.
But years from now.
The smile was back full force as I made my way back into the main living area and grabbed the phone to order breakfast.
Max. Huh, I had to hand it to him—despite his insanity, he kind of brought us together.
Not that I’d ever thank him.
Because thanking Max would be admitting he was right—and I didn’t want to do that. Ever.
So for now, I’d just mentally give him a significant nod and pat on the back.
It’s all he was going to get.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
JORDAN