Page 122
“Hi, Mrs. Beaman,” they chime together.
Elijah’s blue eyes meet mine across the room, and his lips tip into a shy smile.
“Ginger,” Mom insists. “Now, who’s hungry? I made my world-famous meat loaf!”
All three guys smile. Little do they know, Mom’s meat loaf is only famous for being awful. Last time she made it, she used crushed sugar cookies instead of breadcrumbs. The time before that, she swapped oil for the eggs, and it came out like a giant runny hamburger patty. Who knows how she’ll ruin it next . . . tofu loaf anyone?
We barely get through the introductions before Mom’s shamelessly flirting with Caleb. More than once, I catch her touching him—innocently running her fingers across his shoulder or accidentally brushing his thigh with hers.
“Shouldn’t you check on dinner?” I widen my eyes, hoping she gets the hint.
Mom excuses herself from the room.
Caleb’s eyes follow her all the way to the kitchen. “Is it me? Or is Kennedy’s mom freaking hot!”
“I swear to God, Caleb, if you make a move on my mom, I’ll cut off your balls with a butter knife!”
The doorbell sounds again before I can demonstrate. Contemplating who to kill first, I stalk to the door.
“You’re earl—” I yank the door open, ready to bitch-slap Todd for showing up over an hour early, and the words turn to dust on my tongue.
An impeccably dressed Jordan freaking Keller stands on my front stoop, wearing black jeans with a crisp white button-down shirt, smiling as if he didn’t break both my hymen and my heart in one fell swoop.
A bolt of adrenaline spikes me straight through the heart, and I struggle to take my next breath as “Liar” by the Sex Pistols blares through my brain.
“I’m actually a few minutes late.” He offers me the bouquet of pale-pink orchids in his hand. “You said seven, right?”
My mouth gapes open, and I quickly shut it to collect my faculties. “Yeah . . . I mean, no.”
He can’t be here. How am I supposed to get through this night with him sitting a few feet away?
Taking advantage of my shock, he hands me the flowers and leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “I thought for sure you said seven.”
“Yes, I said seven but no . . .” I lose my train of thought, again. “What are you doing here?”
The smell of fresh cinnamon rolls distracts me long enough for him to step around me and come inside. “Yes? No? Princess, I’m confused.”
Caleb stares at the flowers in my hand and elbows Grant in the stomach. “I told you we should’ve brought flowers.”
Jordan doesn’t respond to Caleb’s outburst, but he throws a smirk over his shoulder before focusing his smoldering gaze on me. “Is it yes or no?”
“Yes,” I huff. Don’t look into his eyes, I warn myself. “I said seven, but no, you weren’t invited.”
“Pretty sure I was.” He makes eye contact with my mom as she steps out of the kitchen, walking up to her with a shy smile. “Mrs. Beaman, it’s nice to officially meet you.”
Mom takes his outstretched hand, but instead of shaking it, she squeezes. “It’s nice to officially meet you, too, Jordan. We didn’t think you’d be able to make it tonight.”
Mom leads Jordan to the table, and I want to scream Why are you being so nice to him?
“If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve asked you to bring some of your famous cinnamon rolls to go with my special meat loaf.”
Too angry to speak, I glare at him across the room. I hope he chokes on her “special” meat loaf.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” I march over and grab Jordan’s arm, dragging him into the kitchen while the other three take their seats.
As soon as we’re alone, his smile fades. “I’ve missed you.”
“You broke my heart.”