Free Always (Carter Kids #1.5) by Chloe Walsh

Jordan to drive eighty miles out of State to a 1D concert. He had been disgusted with me, but I hadn’t cared and had even persuaded him to dance with me that night.
    Jordan was an amazing dancer, but you would never be able to tell by the way he kept himself so far apart from the rest of the word. So unattached and aloof …
    The pink shirt with the band members' faces was well worn now, but one of my secret comforts. The fact that I'd kept it meant more than I would ever let on. Jordan had already messed me up so badly, I wouldn't let him know it. "It's comfy," was all I replied.
    He nodded and remained quiet so I decided to make coffee. Call it a nervous trait, but I couldn’t stand awkward silences. I wasn’t one of those people who could sit quietly with strangers. I either made conversation or I left. Simple as that. That's that way Jordan seemed to me now and my heart hurt with that truth.
    I had spent years of my life in his company, glued to his side, but now, standing in my kitchen with him a few feet behind me, I had never felt so disconnected with him … so alone and sad.
    I couldn’t believe this was what had happened to us after eighteen years of friendship.
    It seriously sucked.
    "Hope, can you stop moving around and talk to me for a while?"
    "I'm thirsty," I replied and continued busying myself with making coffee – anything to delay the inevitable.
    "We need to talk," I heard him say. "Hope, we need to sort this out."
    "You need to sort this out. I need a drink," I shot back. "That's what I need." I knew why he was here. I knew what he wanted. I just didn’t know if I was strong enough to give it to him.
    Jordan growled impatiently. "Can you do what you're told," he snapped as he stalked towards me, getting in my personal space. "For once in your goddamn life?"
    "Why break the habit of a lifetime?" I snapped, folding my arms across my chest and glaring up at the man in front of me.
    Shaking his head, Jordan tutted loudly. "You're such a brat."
    "Yeah, well, you're such an asshole," I growled. "What's new?"
    Backing me up against the fridge, Jordan stepped closer until his shoes were touching my bare toes. "Spoilt, entitled little daddy's girl," he rasped, and there was a glint of humor in his eyes.
    "Overgrown momma's boy," I retorted, as my heart hammered against my chest.
    "You're pushing me, Keychain," Jordan husked with a smirk.
    An answer was on the tip of my tongue, but it got lost when I noticed the hunger burning in Jordan's green eyes. We were closer than we had been in seven years. "Don't marry her," I blurted out instead.
    I didn’t blush.
    I didn’t flinch.
    Instead, I stared into his eyes, daringly, forcing him to see me – to see what he was throwing away. "Don't do it," I repeated, holding my breath, fearing his answer. "We have unfinished business and you know it."
    "What are you saying?" he whispered.
    I didn’t know what I was saying. All I sure about was what I felt in my bones and this man had not been put on this earth for any woman other than me.
    "You know what I'm saying," I breathed, chest heaving. "Don't marry her."
    Have me …
    Rubbing his jaw with his hand, Jordan sighed heavily. "She's not to blame here, Hope," he whispered. "All she did was fall in love with …"
    "My husband," I snapped. "All she did was fall in love with my husband." Folding my arms across my chest, I glared up at me. "Doe she even know about me?" I demanded. "About us?"
    "Hope," Jordan pleaded. "You know I'm no good for you." His body trembled as he spoke. "You're young," he added, in an almost desperate tone "You'll do all of this again – with someone else, someone better than me."
    "Say you don’t love me," I hissed, grabbing the labels of his shirt and dragging him closer. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me and I'll sign your papers."
     
     
     
    ****
     
     
     
    Hope & Jordan's story will be
    continued in their full-length novel:
    Inevitable
    December