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He chuckles, but it’s half-hearted. “Just got a lot on my mind, babe.”
“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow, giving him a teasing smirk. “For a guy who’s dead serious about me, you sure seem distracted.”
He runs a hand through his golden curls, his ocean-blue eyes clouded. “Am I that obvious?”
“Like a neon sign, Bama.” I try to keep my tone light, but inside, a knot starts to form.
What could be bothering him now, right when things are starting to look up?
“Look, it’s nothing,” he says, shaking his head. But his words lack conviction, and it only makes the knot tighten in my gut.
“Come on, out with it.” I lean in closer, dropping the playful edge. “You know you can tell me anything.”
He hesitates.
For a moment, I think he might actually open up, but then he shuts down again, shaking his head. “It’s club stuff. Nothing for you to worry about.”
‘Club stuff’ usually means trouble or worse.
My mind races, conjuring worst-case scenarios.
Was it another screw-up?
Is someone gunning for him again?
Could it be something worse than what I’m imagining?
“You’re starting to make me worry,” I confess, voice softer now.
He sighs deeply, avoiding my gaze. “Jordyn, trust me, it’s . . . complicated.”
‘Complicated’ is never good. And the fact that he won’t meet my eyes sends alarm bells ringing in my head.
The clubhouse is loud around us—laughter, music, clinking glasses—but here in our little corner, it feels like we’re in a bubble of tension.
Bama clears his throat and speaks up, “I hope you know I’d do anything for you, including beat the shit out of your dumbass exes.”
I laugh loudly, “I appreciate that,” Licking my lips, my tone grows a bit more serious. “Blake did break me. He fucked with my head in ways I never thought he could. He broke pieces of me. Pieces I never thought could break.”
“Then let me help put the pieces back together,” he says, stepping even closer until I can feel the heat radiating off him. “I don’t care about your past. I care about you.”
“Why now?” I whisper, still trying to catch up with everything he’s throwing at me. “Why tell me this now?”
“Because seeing you with other guys, knowing you’re hurting , , , it kills me,” he confesses, his hand reaching out to touch my arm gently. “I couldn’t stay silent anymore.”
“Jesus, Bama,” I mutter, my mind racing. “You sure know how to get right into a girl’s heart.”
He runs his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin. “Yeah, well, it’s exactly what I’m tryin’ to do.”
“You’re really serious about this?” I ask, needing to hear it again, to believe it.
“Dead serious,” he replies, his voice steady. “I want to be there for you, Jordyn. In every way.”
“God, Bama,” I sigh, feeling a strange mix of fear and hope bubbling up inside me. “This is crazy.”
“You’re probably right,” he grins, that familiar spark lighting up his eyes. “But sometimes crazy is exactly what we need.”
“You’re really not scared off by all my past relationship baggage?” I ask, half-expecting him to flinch, to show some sign of hesitation.
