In His Kiss - Ava Alise Page 0,2
climb back across the booth to get it. By the time I’m on my feet again, I notice Jordan isn’t moving, his eyes fixed on the front of the store. My father is still in the same place I last saw him, only now he isn’t alone. A woman who doesn’t look to be much older than I am is standing next to him with a glimmering smile. Her black hair falls in ringlets, framing her fully made up face. She’s wearing a pair of painted-on leggings and a crop top that shows off her flat stomach and more cleavage than necessary. I can’t tell if she’s about to go work out or if she thinks this is a fashionable look, but she sticks out like a rusty nail.
He stands in front of her and my heart drops as I watch him gently push her hair behind her ear before clasping her hand and walking with her toward the counter.
What the hell?
Slowly, I descend back to my seat. Jordan follows, and immediately begins talking before he turns to look at me.
"Do you know her?" He's trying to play it cool but I can hear the concern in his voice.
"No," I say as I watch my father and the woman place their orders before walking toward a table tucked away on the other side of the small cafe. My head is racing to come up with a logical explanation. My palms feel sticky. His meeting was cancelled. The lady is his long lost sister, or a niece. One who he just connected with and he’s bringing home to meet us. That’s the answer. The only fucking answer because the logical one can’t be true. It would mean he lied to us. Has been lying to us. That he’s a lying sack of shit who drove outside of the city to meet some coffee shop whore and cheat on my mother.
I can't take my eyes off of them. They are sitting across from each other, talking like no one else is in the room, like no one else can see this. Jordan must sense my blood boiling because before I can speak I feel his hand wrap around mine. He speaks in an even tone.
"It doesn't mean anything until it does." I stop staring at them long enough to look at Jordan. He sits down, reclaiming his spot next to me. Small creases appear between his brows as he holds me in a warm gaze. "Don't jump to conclusions.” My body is still rigid with tension but Jordan’s words, or his voice really, start to penetrate a little.
Still, everything in me wants to walk over to the table and grill my father. Find out who she is and why they are here. But fear paralyzes me. Because I know that if I find out that this is the worst case scenario, my world will explode. The world where my father is my hero, my Superman. The man who fell asleep on the back porch holding a tennis racket because my mom was terrified of raccoons getting inside when their kitchen was being redone last year. The man who'd wake me up to eat cupcakes under the stars when his job had him travelling on my birthday. The man who never missed a night to tuck me in when I was little. That man, he'd be gone. I’m a grown woman, almost twenty-one years old now, but the idea of my parents splitting up makes me feel like a child. Maybe it’s because all of these memories would be tarnished with the undercut of how it ended.
“Xia.” Jordan’s smooth voice rings in my ears, breaking through my racing thoughts as he squeezes my hand again. “Look at me,” he says, placing two fingers on my chin and tilting my face toward his. It takes me a minute to tear my eyes from my father and this rusty whore, but when I do, I’m met with Jordan’s calming gaze. I don’t know what to think about what I’m seeing. I don’t know what to do about it either. Then there’s Jordan, sitting so close, holding my face. My skin is crawling and warming at the same time and it’s just too much. I slide back in the booth a few inches, just enough to break the connection. “It doesn’t mean anything until it does,” he repeats.
My lips move slightly as I try to find words to respond, but instead of my mouth opening, my