Page 64 of Jealous Guy

Jordan

The sound of an unfamiliar house coming to life rouses me from a dreamless sleep. Footsteps that aren’t mine or Orion’s pad down the hall and light streams in through the crack in the curtains. The events of last night come back to me slowly, a fever dream that tugs at the corners of my mouth so hard I couldn’t tamp down my smile if I tried.

My God, it was amazing.

It was incredible. Unreal. Like, seriously electrifying.

As good as the sex was, it wasn’t the best part of the night for me. Because when it was over, when we were sleepy and spent, I curled myself around Orion, and he didn’t move away. He didn’t even sigh or try to pretend he didn’t like it. Not even a little bit. I draped my arm over him, and he not only let me do it, but he took my hand in his, knitting our fingers together, and fell asleep holding it tightly against his chest.

He’s still holding it this morning.

It’s near his face, tucked under his chin. His eyes are closed, lashes thick and dark. His lips are parted, his bottom lip jutting out slightly more than the top one.

It’s hard to describe how much I like waking up in the same bed as him.

I watch him sleep until the sounds from downstairs get louder. From the voices I can make out, the rest of the house is awake, and we’re the only ones still in bed.

“O,” I murmur, dusting my lips along the plane of his shoulder. “I think we better get up.”

He rolls onto his back, a crease of confusion forming between his brows when he sees me. He blinks a few times to adjust to the light and his top lip flares into a slight snarl. The snarl evaporates as soon as he makes eye contact with me, but the hint of confusion, and something harder to read, remains.

“Are you…? Is this…?” He drops my hand like it’s hot, questions bubbling in his eyes for a moment before being replaced by a neutral gaze. It occurs to me that it’s an expression I recognize, one I’ve seen on him often in the past, without really taking the time to wonder what he’s hiding when he does it. “We good?”

“Yes, Orion,” I say slowly and clearly. “We’re good.”

To drive the point home, I stamp my lips on the ball of his shoulder and pull him close enough to inhale him. He tenses for a second, and I can hear the cogs of his mind whirring, then he goes soft in my arms, molding himself against me.

I breathe him in deeply and let my hand wander down his body.

A loud crash on the door jolts us apart. “Wake up, assholes!” West yells cheerfully. “Breakfast’s ready and we need to move if we want to get the hike in.”

“Hike,” mouths Orion in horror. “What fucking hike?”

I don’t remember agreeing to go on a hike, or even discussing the matter in any real detail, but it is possible the topic came up last night. I definitely wasn’t doing my best focusing yesterday, at least not on anything that wasn’t Orion. Or his perfect butt.

It turns out, I’m not doing my best focusing today either. I’ve just been on a long-ass hike in the beautiful countryside with a group of good friends, and I couldn’t tell you a thing about it—except that Orion walked in front of me the entire way, wearing blue shorts with a five-inch inseam.

The second we’re back at the cabin, cleaned up and packed, I all but corral Orion into the car. It’s not that I haven’t had a great time, or that I don’t like cabins, fresh air, or hanging out with friends. I don’t even mind hiking, per se. It’s that if I don’t get some alone time with Orion very soon, there’s a very real chance my head is going to explode.

I’ve been keeping it together, but not by much.

To make matters worse, Sarah has asked if she can get a lift back to the city with us. It’s fine, obviously. Sarah’s great company, and I totally get it. She has an assignment due tomorrow, and she wants to spend some time doing a final read-through. She takes her studies seriously, and I can’t blame her for that. Truthfully, I could stand to learn a thing or two from her.

Having her in the back seat of the car does mean there’s no chance of me giving Orion road head though. At first, I was hopeful that she might fall into a coma-level sleep and wouldn’t notice me unzipping O’s pants. For the first part of the journey, I was a little bothered by the ethics of giving road head with her in the back seat, but after a while, I got so horny that the risk of crashing or getting caught stopped seeming significant.

Turns out it’s a moot point because no matter how many times I suggest she catch some shut-eye, she remains wide awake. She doesn’t talk too much or make any demands about things like music or AC. She really isn’t annoying at all, just very, very conscious.

It’s the fucking worst.

It’s torment. Torture. Agony, pain, and suffering all rolled into one. Orion is sitting right next to me, so close that I could have my hand on his leg now if Sarah wasn’t in the car with us. I could run my fingers along the hem of his shorts. Play with the stitching for a while. Stroke the line that separates skin from fabric.

Since I can’t touch him, I message Kirst to distract myself.

I’m not saying you’re right, but if I did have a crush on Orion, do you think he might feel the same way about me?

Fine. You were right. I just didn’t like your tone.

But seriously, do you think he likes me back?