Jordan POV
Oh my God!
When I heard him muttering about my clumsy struggle with the seatbelt, I never thought he'd lean over me to help. The belt kept jamming every time I pulled, like it was mocking me. I tugged, released, tugged again… nothing. It wasn't my fault.
Now he was there, leaning over me. My heart was racing, far too fast. His neck so close that all I could think about was kissing him in that dream. It was a dream, right?
"It was stuck…" I heard him murmur. And my body reacted as if he'd whispered it directly in my ear. The metallic click rang out, but I barely registered his movements as he freed and fastened the belt. I was too focused on him.
Our eyes locked when he lifted his head slightly. Our faces only centimeters apart. His breath mingling with mine. His mouth, still, so close… And in my mind, Melissa's teasing echoed like a headline: "Do you think he kisses well?"
He pulled back just a little. His gaze shone with something I couldn't read, leaving me confused. My heart was hammering too hard.
"Uh… thanks," I murmured. I had to thank him, right? That wasn't the only thing I wanted to do. Get a grip, Jordan Parker.
"You're not blushing." That was his reply. Excuse me? I blinked, startled, and right then I felt my cheeks ignite.
"Now you are." He smiled, visibly satisfied, leaning back into his seat.
What the hell was that? I pressed my cold hands to my face, trying to cool it, sneaking a sideways glance at him.
And that's when I realized. Oh, shit.
I was wet. Down there. My body had decided to come alive, aroused by my boss.
Okay. I admit, it wasn't the first time. But this was stronger. Could he tell? Smell it? Shit! And to top it off, I was in a dress. Which, sitting down, barely covered my underwear.
So caught up in panic, I didn't even notice he'd already started the car. He drove through the city in silence, hands steady on the wheel, breath controlled.
I stayed silent too, eyes lost on the window, unsure what to say. But my heart still pounded so loud I swore he could hear it.
"Mateus wants to start filming again next week," he said suddenly, his deep voice cutting the silence like a knife. He wasn't looking at me, eyes fixed on the road, but his jaw was too tense to pass as casual.
"Okay," I replied quickly, tugging at the hem of my dress, though it was impossible to cover more of my legs.
"Do you have a preference for a day? Or any you can't?"
"No. Any day works for me." I forced a smile, even though he wasn't looking. We'd already filmed some bits during service, and I knew Mateus wanted more of us together before launching the vlog. He already had enough for three episodes, but wanted at least two or three more, to buy time between filming and editing. One episode per week.
"You're sure?" The question came out clipped, almost like a test. Then another one, sharper: "And Lorenzo?"
"Lorenzo?" I frowned, surprised. "I don't know his availability," I answered, genuinely confused. "You'll have to ask him."
Silence for a moment. The hum of the engine filled the whole car. And then:
"Did dinner go well?"
The question dropped suddenly, clumsily disguised as casual. Cold. Forced. As if it had stuck in his throat until he spit it out.
"Uh…" I hesitated, staring at the glass fogged by my breath. I fiddled with my dress, tugging at the skirt pointlessly, unsure where to turn. "Yes… it went."
A lie. Or half a truth. It went fine… until he kissed me. And I didn't like it.
"Is this going to be a problem? You two?" His question came out sharp, more command than concern.
"No," I replied too quickly. Well… not from my side. From Lorenzo's, I wasn't so sure. But he'd said he'd wait until my internship ended. That meant he wouldn't push, right? Maybe it was better to sit him down and clear it all up. Better to just be friends. Friends were safe. Friends meant I could stay here. That I could keep working at this restaurant. And I want to stay. But without hurting him, without bruising egos. And preferably without any more bad kisses.
Lost in those thoughts, I only later noticed his jaw clenched tight, the way his fingers gripped the wheel harder.
"We won't cause problems in the kitchen, Chef Adam," I said, trying to sound firm. "Lorenzo and I are just friends."
"Adam."
"Huh?"
"You can call me Adam… when we're not at work." His voice was low, almost dragged out, as if against his own rules.
"Uh… okay," I agreed, not sure where to put my hands.
The car slowed, and only then did I realize we were already in front of my place. The tension hung heavy in the air, so thick that banal words like "Thanks for the ride,""See you tomorrow" felt empty.
But they were all I managed before stepping out, still too aware of his breath lingering around me.
He only gave a short nod, and I shut the door, desperate to escape the too-tight space filled with… him. But at the same time, some masochistic part of me wanted to stay.
I leaned against the car and shut the door too fast, breath still trapped in my chest. But when I tried to take the first step, something tugged at me.
I looked back, down.
"Oh no…"
The dress was caught in the door. Of course. Me and dresses. And as if the universe wanted one last laugh, I heard the engine rumble. The car began to move, slow, innocent, as if nothing was wrong. Panic surged.
"Adam!" I banged on the glass with my palm, frantic. "Stop! Stop!"
He braked sharply and turned, eyes wide, not understanding what was happening, but clearly alarmed.
I didn't think twice: I yanked the door open, nearly stumbled, but managed to free the fabric. Free… I sighed in relief flooding me. Saved. Until… oh, of course. Torn. Melissa's going to kill me.
"Jordan!" The way he said my name was so deep, so worried, that my stomach knotted. Suddenly he was right in front of me, too close, eyes locked on mine. How he got there so fast, I'll never know.
I stood there, dress torn, not knowing what to do, half-embarrassed, half-breathless from the scare.
"Are you okay?" His voice was low, but charged with tension.
He didn't wait for an answer. His hands touched my arms gently, turning me this way and that as if to confirm I hadn't been hurt. His touch was firm… but careful. I tried to steady my breath, still rattled by the scare, but his hands on me didn't help.
"I'm…" I murmured, unconvincing. He didn't look convinced. "I'm fine. Really. Just the scare," I reinforced. But when I lifted my eyes to meet his, something happened.
He pulled me against him. Instinctive. The hug was quick, but warm. Surprising. Protective. And dangerously good. Because the instant his arms wrapped around me, my heart raced even harder, as if it wanted to burst free.
My face pressed to his chest, and I closed my eyes for a second, letting myself sink into his warmth, his scent, the sensation of being… safe. Too safe.
I felt the tension in his muscles, the steady beat of his heart. And just when I thought he'd pull back, I heard his deep voice brush my ear, low enough that no one else could hear.
"You drive me crazy…"