Beautiful Chaos/A Jordan Knight FanFic/ Book One in the Beautiful series. ✔️

22

Dallas

"I THINK I ATE AWAY TEN years of my life," Jordan groans, holding his stomach.

I laugh and scoot a little closer on the nook built into the wall surrounding Grady's poolside fire pit. Today was gorgeous and warmer than any Thanksgiving I've ever had, but with the sun gone, there's a bit of an early evening chill.

"What was your favorite dish?" I already know. I lost count of how many helpings Jordan had of my stuffing.

"You know what it was." Jordan bumps my shoulder and laughs.

"My stuffing?"

"Yes, your stuuuhffin." Jordan drags the syllables out and teases me with a sideways glance.

"There you go again, belittling my Southern roots. Will it never get old?"

"I doubt it." Jordan eases back against the pillows behind us, pulling me closer and tangling our ankles. "That first night we met, I thought you were gonna stab me in the eye with a toothpick for teasing you about it."

"You were awful." I kick his shin and feel his shoulder shake against me when he laughs. "You teased me about my accent and then made me feel even more self-conscious about that icky producer at my audition."

I expect him to laugh again, but he doesn't. He's still against me for a few seconds before speaking again.

"Yeah, you never told me who that guy was."

"Huh? Who?"

"You know, the guy. The one who wanted you to blow him."

"Oh, he was . . ." I stop myself just in time, sitting up and looking back at him. His easy smile doesn't distract me from the cold calculation in his stormy eyes. "Why do you want his name, Jordan?"

He shrugs one shoulder, but he's tense at my side.

"Just wondering."

"Just wondering so you can go find him? You're worse than San."

Jordan sits up so fast I'm not prepared for how close it brings us together. Not prepared for the heat of his body or his words.

"You're right." His sharp words disrupt the quiet. "I am worse than San because he knows who the guy is and didn't do anything about it. If you gave me a name, not only would that bastard be walking with a limp, but he'd be broke by next week. Count on that."

It scares me. The violent emotion brewing behind Jordan's eyes. Not because I think he would hurt me. He never would, but because he lets me see it. Less and less he's hiding, and I wonder how long we'll be able to stay in this limbo where everyone knows we're more than friends, but where I keep us less than lovers.

"Look, I know you worry about me, but I'm a big girl."

"You're not a big girl." He grabs my wrists, holding them up in front of my face like little sticks. "You're a tiny girl, and any guy bigger than you—by the way, all the guys are bigger than you—could get you alone and make you do something you don't want to do. Something I'd have to kill him for. This is a tough town, Dallas. It's not Glory fucking Falls."

"I know that, and I know you have my best interests at heart."

"Do you?" He moves his face closer to mine, the apple cider mintiness of his breath misting my lips. "If you know that, then why do you catch buses at midnight instead of calling me when you need a ride? Why do you work yourself half to death instead of letting me help you?"

I jerk my wrists away and pull back a few inches to escape the temptation of his mouth and those soulful eyes.

"Thousands of girls are here in L.A. doing the same thing I'm doing. Working in crappy restaurants. Dodging lechers at auditions. Catching buses late at night because they are hungry. They want their big break just like I do, and are willing to pay their dues."