THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IN THE WORLD
Jordan
She slept, and again I watched.
This time I didn’t watch the way her chest rose and fell or worry she might die. I still worried, but it was lessened, remarkably.
I worried more about the fact that she was here, and for whatever reason, she might still hate me—well, not whatever, but now that her reason was nonexistent, I hoped maybe we could talk and I could explain. I could even tell her the lengths I went to, humiliating myself by pretending to hit on some random girl at a bar so that I could be free for her.
I mentally took a deep breath, realizing I was rambling in my mind.
Lacey Winters was in my bed, and there wasn’t a chance I was going to screw this up.
I jumped up, ordered room service quietly from the sitting room, and showered as fast as humanly possible so she didn’t wake and leave while I was in there.
While I pulled on the other hotel robe, I ordered us both new clothes and a long jacket for leaving the hotel.
I had my driver on standby to pick us up the moment the clothes arrived.
And then as the food came, I started making noises, like I had just awoken and this food was a normal hotel occurrence. I worried she might think I frequented the hotel a lot and get nervous, but her comfort was more important.
She stirred as I paid the attendant and closed the door as loudly as it would allow.
“Oh, man, I passed out.” She yawned and stretched, shifting and finally sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Ten. I ordered us some breakfast. Fitz said you should try to eat and rest.”
“Fitz?” She scowled.
“The doctor who was here.”
“Oh, right.” She tapped her finger against her lip. A storm was brewing in her eyes, but she smiled and got off the bed, fixing her robe and ensuring not even an inch of skin showed. “I want to thank you, Jordan. What you did, it was amazing, and I don’t know how to ever repay you for that.” She was sincere, not mean or judgmental or cruel or harsh for once.
It threw me for a loop. “You’re welcome.” I said it as if it was nothing, which it was. Technically. “Any man who considers himself a gentleman would have done the same thing.”
“That’s not true.” She sat at the small table in the window.
“Coffee?” I lifted the large pot.
“Please. With cream.”
I made her a coffee, an act I’d never done in my life. I’d made my own but never for another person. Except my mother. On Mother’s Day.
I handed her the coffee and slid the breakfast plate in front of her.
She lifted the cup to her nose and breathed in, sighing as she took her first sip. “I can’t believe last night.” She sounded upset, which made sense. Someone had tried to do the worst thing possible to her.
“I need to know who.” I leaned in, desperate for the answer. I had plans, not that I would tell her that.
“I don’t know.”
“You said a name this morning. Miguel. What did that mean?”
“Nothing.” She was lying. “I don’t know. I can’t remember now.” She was a bad liar. Why would she protect someone for this?
“I want to make sure this never happens again. He has to be held accountable.”
“If I remember anything I’ll tell you. I barely recall the doctor being here.”
“He’s a friend. I promise you, you were safe from the moment that drug hit you until this moment now.”
“I’m not safe now?” She lifted an eyebrow, cracking a playful grin.
“Well—” I contemplated many jokes and innuendoes but decided against them. She likely wasn’t in the mood to flirt, not after what happened. “I can’t guarantee the food won’t kill you.” It was a bad recovery, but she made me nervous. I desperately didn’t want to screw this up.
“Thank you for this, as well.” She lifted her coffee and sipped.
And we were back to the awkward silence.
“So, I wanted to tell you that you were right. And I want to apologize. I have ended my relationship with Amy; it’s over. You’d be proud I ruined our fathers’ friendship and destroyed any chances mine would ever forgive me for this insubordination. He might never speak to me again, actually. My grandpa told me he will see me on Monday to discuss what happened, so there’s a chance that he might move past this, and he’s the one who matters. And Amy is free to be with her drummer. And I am—” I almost said free to flirt with her but paused. “Free from whoring myself out for the sake of my family anymore.”
Her eyes flared, but her lips lifted into a smile. She didn’t say a word. In fact, the awkward silence multiplied into something monstrous—tension.
“So I will never be that douchebag again who hits on girls while his parents are arranging his marriage.” I lowered my gaze, conflicted on how this wasn’t a positive thing. She’d called my integrity and honor into question. I wasn’t defending myself. I’d told her she was right.
“I’m happy for you,” she said after a minute, still clutching the small mug. “I should probably get going, though. I have to call everyone and let them know I’m safe.” She paused in her new line of lying. “What are we telling everyone, by the way?”
“What do you want to say?” I was not giving up, but considering her situation, this was a tough dance to perform.
“I guess that we hooked up. Marcia will have tracked my phone here. She had to have seen us leave together if you were carrying me. No one saw me drunk, so I can’t say that I was sick. What else is there?”
“Of course. If that’s what you want to say, then it will be the story. I think you should reconsider telling me who this asshole is who drugged you, though. I’d like to deal with that.”
“Thank you.” Her eyebrows knit together, and her eyes softened. “You don’t know what that means to me.” She put the coffee down and got up, glancing at her robe. “I guess I need clothes.”
“They’ll be arriving momentarily. I ordered you something to throw on and a long jacket so you’d be comfortable.” I got up too.
“Oh, that was nice of you,” she whispered, again conflicted about something.
“Lacey.” I stepped closer, taking my chance that the conflict was good and not her coming up with more reasons to hate me. “What I did the first time I met you was inexcusable. And the second time as well.” I stepped closer, though not too close so as not to scare her. “I never thought about you the way you think I did. You would never be a side chick or a fling or someone I could even consider seeing only part of the time.”
“Jordan—”
“Please let me finish.” I tried to be firm. “The moment I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. But then you challenged me and scolded me and set boundaries for not only yourself but me too. You demanded I shrug aside the person my parents had forced on me, and also respect you and myself. What I didn’t realize was that I was disrespecting so many people with those simple actions. I hate that I disrespected you. And that you think I disrespected myself. I hate that you think so little of me.” I took that final step, daring to lift a hand to her soft cheek and cup her face. “And I wouldn’t dare ask for forgiveness, but I would ask for a chance. Please, give me a chance to prove to you who I am and how much I respect you.”
Her eyes watered, and she swallowed a lump in her throat as she thought for far too long before she nodded. “Fine. I will give you one chance. You gave me a second chance at life, so I suppose that will make us even.”
“Thank you.” I clung to her, wanting so badly to kiss her, but I didn’t. I held off, proving I was a man of my word.
I was.
Normally.
A knock at the door saved me.
“That must be the clothes.” I slid my hand down her face, memorizing every piece of it, and walked to the door.
Marcia La Croix stood with her head tilted to the side and a smug look on her face.
“Hi.” She grinned, moving her eyes across the room to Lacey. “You didn’t answer my texts, so I had to make sure you weren’t being made into a skin suit.”
Lacey walked to me and slid her hand into mine, making my entire body go numb and then burst to life. “Sorry, I was busy. I should have called.”
“I’ll forgive you. Monty’s downstairs. Let’s brunch here, and you can tell us all about it.” She winked.
“Fine.” Lacey laughed like the horrors of the prior night had never happened. “Be down in a minute.”
“Two minutes. Or I send the marines in to pry you two from this room.” She shook her head and turned away, sauntering off.
As the door closed I stared down at the worried eyes searching mine.
“I’ll call about those clothes again,” I offered.
“I am so sorry for making you do this.”
“You’re not making me do anything.” I smiled and went for my phone.
I contemplated thanking God as I dialed, but I decided I’d better wait for something bigger to thank him for.