After a long but not terribly unsuccessful night at the bar, I arrived home with sore feet and a ravenous appetite.
The clock read after midnight, and all I really wanted to do was flop down in bed with a large alfredo pizza and eat until the carbs eventually put me to sleep. Alas, I didn't have any pizza in the house and didn't know of any places nearby that delivered past midnight.
All I had in the house to eat that was mine was ice cream, veggies, and a half-eaten bag of kettle chips.
The house was dark and everything in it quiet as I walked past my bedroom and into the kitchen. My fingers pressed on the light switch above the stove, illuminating enough of the room in a soft glow so I could at least see where I was going.
I'd just closed the door to the refrigerator after grabbing out my bag of baby carrots and the ranch dressing when a door opened and shut somewhere in the house. I perked my head up and in the noise's direction, expecting to see Mel coming around a corner.
Instead, my heart dropped straight through to my stomach and exploded panic through the rest of my body as he came into sight.
The weight of my embarrassment from earlier in the day dragged my stare to the floor in seconds flat. My anxiety spiked and spun me around towards my midnight snack on the counter before he got out his first word.
"Hey, I heard you just get home from work. How was it?"
"Fine."
This sucks. This sucks. This sucks.
I hoped I wouldn't have to see him for a few days if I was strategic enough, but here I was, less than twelve hours later with the perpetrator himself.
"Good." His voice was softer than usual, and if I wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of unease sitting below the surface of his tone.
"You have an easier time with the drinks after we practiced some of them?"
I nodded, but stayed facing the sink. "I did."
The crunch of a baby carrot between my teeth was the only sound in the room for the next several seconds. The surrounding air loaded up with a palpable tension that stuck to my skin like sweat the longer the silence between us lingered. It was too much. Being here with him, knowing what he heard, was too much to handle.
"I'm just gonna get some water and take this all back to my room."
Looking towards the high up cabinets that held the cups, I momentarily considered forgetting about the water completely, but changing my mind in a split second would look like I was just trying to get out of there as fast as possible.
Even if that was the truth, I didn't need Jordan knowing that.
Opening up the cabinets, I hadn't even reached for a cup yet before Jordan butted himself into the situation.
"Here, let me get that."
An irritated grumble vibrated my throat as Jordan crowded the space where I was standing, forcing me to stumble back a few steps to keep the space between us.
"I could've done it," I huffed.
Reaching his arm up and retrieving a cup from the highest shelf, he chuckled lightly. "This kitchen wasn't really designed for shorties."
"I'm not short," I quickly defended. "I'm five seven and a half. That's three inches taller than the normal American woman."
Holding the cup out to me, Jordan looked down on me with speculation. "Yeah, but isn't Mel around your height too."
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Tempting /A Jordan Knight fanfic ✔️
Fanfiction(Completed) All my life, I had worked tirelessly to achieve perfection. Perfection was in my blood, and so was the art of dance. All that hard work had earned me my dream job as a professional dancer at the ripe age of twenty-four, the perfect boyf...
