Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut (53 page)

When I'd walked out Jordan's bedroom the next morning, he'd already showered and was in the process of making my favorite mocha frappe. I raised my hand as a signal for silence, relishing the first delicious sip, loudly slurping the whipped cream bubble through my lips.

"I don't want to talk about last night," I announced.

"But we need to discuss what happened, Marli. This thing between us is…"

"What? Spinning out of control?"

He removed his espresso from the beverage maker and took the seat across the table from me.

"I was going to say 'amazing,' but apparently we share different points of view."

I sensed him edging me into a deep discussion, slash, argument, but all I wanted was to go home. My stomach had that weighted, gassy feeling, and I couldn't think of anything more humiliating than experiencing an attack of diarrhea in Jordan's immaculate bathroom. Some things could definitely wait to be shared until we'd been together like a hundred years.

Mocha droplets spattered the placemat when I suddenly planted my cup on the table. "I think I better go home."

Of course Jordan jumped to conclusions. "Why? You still have a half hour. Did I do something?"

Gross gurgling sounds stirred between my spine and belly. "No, I just don't feel well. The heaviness settled lower in my abdomen and I sensed time running out. I left the front door open in my hasty retreat and didn't even stop to kiss Jordan goodbye—just made a beeline for my car.

When I barreled through the door to our apartment, Brittany jumped.

"You scared the crap out of me!"

"Don't use the word 'crap' and 'out' together right now." She giggled with understanding until I doubled over from a sharp pain. Diarrhea apparently wasn't my issue. "Damn! I forgot my stupid shot!" Another severe pain gripped my insides. "My stupid period just started."

Menstrual shots lasted three months, but if you forgot one, you suffered a monstrous cycle. There were meds to counter the effects of a mindless blunder, shortening matters to a mere three days, but the first twenty-four hours were murder. My shot due date passed two days ago while we were in Maple Heights. The tiny syringe of magic serum still sat in bathroom drawer.

"Marli Davis, where's your head? How hard can it be to remember a measly shot? Now you'll be sick all day."

"I guess with finals coming up and studying to the point of exhaustion, I just forgot.

"More like studying Jordan Mason, if you ask me. Nice shirt by the way. Do I even want to know what happened to yours?"

Probably not.
When the next cramp cinched, I felt the wetness and raced for the bathroom.
Next life, I'm coming back as a guy!

"At least you're not pregnant," Brit hollered through the bathroom door.

Not yet
my judgmental conscious chanted. I peeled my soiled clothing off, tossed them in my hamper and programmed the shower for fifteen minutes. Remembering I had one last report due tomorrow before the quarter ended, I cracked the door and called out to Brittany.

"Hey, can you call Jordan and have him download my psych lecture?"

Brittany's face filled the crack and I squealed. "
I
can get your assignments. Take a day off from Jordan and rest. There's some cramp medicine in the cabinet. I'll cook dinner tonight, but no Jordan, got it?"

"Yes Master," I snipped, shutting the door and hurrying for the sanctuary of warm water.

The medicine kicked in almost instantly, dulling the pain somewhat and making me sleepy enough I decided to go back to bed. I wound in a towel, walked out of the bathroom...and screamed.

"Jordan!"

His dark eyes swept over me standing in the doorway, wrapped in nothing but terry cloth. "Damn Marli. I think I've lost the feeling in my legs."

My heart bounced in my chest and my body felt weird, in a hot way. I clutched the towel tighter. He kept staring, slowly moving his eyes from my bare toes to my blue eyes so intimately, I squirmed.

"You ran out so fast you forgot your cell receptor. When no one answered the door, I let myself in and was laying it on the counter when you walked out."

"You should have yelled out before walking in the apartment uninvited. You scared me. And what if Brit had been home?" She had no idea Jordan had a key so he could bypass the security system and sneak in after lockdown.

Jordan scrubbed the back of his neck. "In my defense, she instant messaged your phone asking if you wanted chicken noodle or vegetable soup, so I figured you must be really sick and wanted to check on you." His eyes lifted slowly, undressing me as he stepped closer. "When I walked in, the place was quiet and I thought you might be asleep." I backed against the wall and he leaned on his arm to the side of my head. His fingers traced a water droplet trickling over my naked shoulders. "Are you contagious?"

My head felt dizzy, either from the medication or Jordan standing so close. "Would it matter?"

His Adams Apple bounced several times. "Not really."

"Trust me, I'm safe," my voice fading when he leaned down, lips parted and almost on mine. When they finally touched, they felt like they were on fire, and my mouth melted against them.

He broke the kiss and spoke in shallow breaths, hot against my cheek. "You're making me crazy, here. Tell me you'll be better by this weekend."

"Yes, Mr. 'One-Track-Mind.' Only a temporary situation."

"I'm hurt," he grinned. "While kissing you is my favorite pastime, there's something else I want to share with you." He laughed when I quirked my eyebrows. "Now who's got the dirty mind?" He kneaded my hips. "Skydiving, Miss Davis. For my birthday present.

I jumped back, smacking the wall. "Ouch! Skydiving? No way! Something else—anything."

His knee pushed between my thighs. "Anything?" I gulped hard and his lips curled. He'd won. "We'll tandem jump. You'll be fastened to me and I'll control the parachute." His lips found the sweet spot below my ear and I turned to putty in his hands. "For me? Please?"

"Fine, I surrender, but for the record, you play dirty. Skydiving? I must really love you!" I'd have to come up with something monumental before the weekend to change his mind.
Silly girl. You're asking for a miracle to happen.

He placed the sweetest kiss on my lips, his voice genuinely humble. "I certainly hope so, and 'thanks for playing,' babe. You won't regret it, I swear."

Too late.

His arms wrapped me to him and I leaned into the curves of his body. His lips burned against mine, urgent and demanding. My current predicament nudged a reminder when a cramp clenched deep, freezing the embers of heat starting to build. I crumpled against Jordan gasping.

"Marli?"

"I need to lie down."

"What's wrong? You're pale as a ghost."

No way to avoid the embarrassing revelation. "I'm fine, really. Just a consequence for my absentmindedness." His forehead wrinkled. "My period started, okay? I forgot to take my shot and now I'm paying royally."

Instead of recoiling from the grossness of my situation, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and ushered me to my bedroom. "Put on your sweats and I'll make you some tea."

"No, you need to get to school."

"For once, let me take care of you—please? Dressed. Tea. Jordan leaves and worries about you all day, in that order. Okay?" I managed a weak smile and nodded before he pulled my door closed.

When I stumbled sleepily out of the bedroom, the teapot sat on the table alongside a cup and saucer. A hand-drawn sketch of a tulip stuck out of a glass in the center and I smiled at Jordan's romantic creativeness, feeling tender emotions building. The note tucked in my teacup summoned hormone-driven tears.

Feel better my sweet girl. Love ya—to the moon and back.

31

EXPECTING THE UNEXPECTED

P
aralyzed. The perfect description of my present state of being, with Jordan's birthday fast approaching and some idiotic promise looming I'd made in a hormone-crazed moment. I couldn't believe I agreed to tether myself to Jordan's body and plummet to the earth from an airplane.

No more making promises when only wearing a towel and kissing Jordan…or fully dressed and kissing Jordan…or while kissing Jordan, period.

Later this afternoon, we'd board an air train to Florida for the Thanksgiving holiday, combined with celebrating Jordan and Jesse's birthday. I had one hour to finish packing before Jordan's class ended and my attention demanded elsewhere.

Anxiety carved a niche in my already overloaded brain. This would be my first visit to the penthouse since my interview. I wondered if Jordan would act different there compared to the beach house. We would undoubtedly be under more scrutinizing eyes, but my biggest worry? I wouldn't fit in with his family.

My car seemed to go on autopilot when I pulled into my apartment complex, naturally heading for the parking stalls behind the first building. I rounded the corner and slammed on the brakes. Parked in
my
space sat a black monster jeep with Alaska license plates.

Damn! Douglas Peterson kept reappearing like a bad penny. He leaned against the jeep dressed in black jeans and a flashy ski coat—dazzling. I barely climbed out of my car before he hovered too close for comfort.

"Doug, why are you here?"

"Ouch. Missed you too. Sorry 'Ice Princess,' but I'm not here for you." His gaze slowly roved my body, a brow arching with his tweaked-up mouth, probably following a disgusting thought. "Then again…"

"Seriously, what brought you down from the arctic?"

"First, I didn't come from Alaska. I'm attending Dartmouth—decided to expand my major and take some pre-med courses. Second, not that it should matter to you because you've made it very clear I don't
matter
, but I'm here to see Brittany—Number 4233, remember? We've kept in touch since our video interview."

Why hasn't she said anything?
Because Jordan and I jumped down her throat when she revealed who she interviewed for. Why would she say anything and risk being attacked again?

"I didn't know you two had a thing going."
Brit said "kept in touch"....not involved.

He reached around me, his hand sliding over mine and grabbing the cloth bags with my purchases. I hated the surprise prick jangling my nerves when he touched me.

"We don't. We're keeping things casual."

He motioned to the doors requiring my key code to open. Once inside, he took inventory of the cameras positioned in the corners of the entry—ones I'd never noticed being there before. When he followed me into the elevator, he made a point of facing the one over the keypad.

"Brit hasn't talked about the interview. I assumed neither of you were interested."

"We don't want to rush into something we'll regret later," he answered, his eyes trained on me.

"Nice payback." He smirked at my acknowledgement. "What does your dad think?"

"He doesn't know."

"Don't let him hurt Brittany."

"My father isn't an animal, Marli." I lifted a brow in disbelief. "Let me handle my own life—the one you want no part of, remember?"

"Brittany is my friend."

"And mine. She's a big girl and perfectly capable of making her own decisions…unlike someone else we both know."

The elevator bumped slightly and opened.

"You can stop the personal attacks." He followed me into the apartment without an invitation, placing the bags on the counter. "And I've got Brit's back, like it or not."

"I don't doubt it. Just keep in mind your boundaries, now that you
know,
" he warned.

My lips folded under tightly in frustration. I knew I couldn't say anything to Brittany about Tony Peterson's manipulative tactics without raising questions I'd sworn to never answer.

I tensed when Doug tugged the collar of my jacket, helping me shrug it off. When I turned, I found myself trapped between him and the entry wall. He gently touched my cold cheek.

"
Rude
becomes you."

I slapped his hand away.

"Brit shouldn't be too much longer."