Page 51 of The Keeper and I
He blanched. “Oh, well, um, perhaps it’s best you left us—”
“Gladly.”
Laci turned on her heels and stormed out of the treatment room. Nadia followed, but thankfully, said nothing. Laci was in no mood to talk. Her mind was too busy with questions. First, who the hell was Caroline? Second, was she someone important to Jordan? Third, how important was she? Fourth, was there someone else in life? In his heart?
If that was the case, how could he have kissed her like that? How could he have sat with her through the fireworks and held her all night when she couldn’t sleep because of Dane?
Why, when she knew their arrangement wasn’t real, did the thought of him with someone else hurt so much?
She didn’t hear from Jordan until the next morning. He called her first thing. She didn’t answer. It wasn’t completely intentional. She had a photoshoot to keep her busy. Though she didn’t escape her thoughts of him for long with the way the other models gushed about the kiss. Once again, she and Jordan were trending, but unlike the gala, she wasn’t thrilled about it.
He called again around lunch, and she ignored that one on purpose. She knew it was petty, and she didn’t care. Her feelings were hurt, and she wanted him to know.
When she went home, she didn’t call though she was tempted since she was nervous about Dane showing up again. Worst case scenario, she could stay another night with Tate and Jax like she had after the match. Her anger outweighed her fear, and she went through her front door in a huff. She locked it behind her.
Halfway through making herself pasta, her doorbell rang. She almost dropped the spatula she was using to stir the sauce. She went to answer it, but before she did, she peered out the window and found Jordan looming on her doorstep.
She opened the door and glowered up at him, undeterred by the stitches that made him look like a hot, Scottish Frankenstein.
“You can’t answer your fucking phone?” he demanded.
“If you’ve come here to accost me, you can leave,” she snapped.
“Have I done something wrong?”
“Why don’t you ask Caroline? We both know how much she means to you.”
He shook his head and blinked a few times. “Whothe fuckis Caroline?”
“I was wondering that myself.”
“Laci—”
“Look, if you’re seeing someone, be out with it. I know we didn’t establish rules about dating other people while we’re doing this, but I think it’s pretty shitty of you to—”
“Laci,” he interjected firmly. “I’m not seeing anyone else. I told you I don’t do the relationship thing.”
“Right, so you can imagine my surprise.”
He scowled. “Can I come in?”
“Wouldn’t you rather be at Caroline’s?”
“I don’t know any fucking Caro—” he stopped short and collected himself. “I don’t want to talk out here and risk being overheard.”
She conceded and turned her back to him to return to her kitchen.
He followed, closing and locking the door behind him. “I don’t know anyone named Caroline. What are you on about?”
“You said her name after you got hit,” she said, keeping her eyes on the saucepan. She didn’t want him to see her face in case her expression betrayed the sting of it. She had no right to be hurt. This was a ruse, even if his kisses were so ingrained in her heart that she dreamed of them nightly. “You can come clean. I know I don’t have any real claim on you, so…”
“Laci.” His hand on her shoulder forced her to face him. His eyes were blazing. “Listen and hear me well. I don’t know any Caroline. I don’t know why I said that name. I’d just been fucking stomped on.” He cupped her face. “I promise. I swear on everything. The only person I wanted there was you.”
She blinked back the mist in her eyes. “So…there’s really no one else?”
“How could there be anyone else when I’ve got you? Fake or not, for the time being, you’re mine and I’m yours.”
Her heart stuttered at that, and she almost smiled. “Is that really what you want?”