Page 102 of The Incredible Ordinary

Iannoy me.

“What… what are you doing here?” I ask, stumbling over my words. I annoy myself even more like this.

Stupid me with my stupid thoughts being a fucking idiot.

Milán quirks his brow and looks me up and down. “Seems we got a bit carried away.”

Can he tell? Does he know? That I think about him all the time.

I look away. “Where are the boys?”

“Asleep. I put a mattress in Theo’s room,” Dad says.

I nod. “Well. It’s getting late,” I say, because all I really want right now is to get away.

I can feel Milán’s eyes on me. I’m not even looking at him, but it still makes me fidget.

“What do you know? So it is.” Dad gets up and puts the mugs in the sink. “Jordan will get you settled in the guest room,” Dad tells Milán when he passes him on his way out of the kitchen. He pats Milán’s shoulder.

Of course Milán has charmed him.

I bite back a sigh.

Yeah. Why the fuck not, right?

Dad’s footsteps disappear down the hallway and the door to his bedroom clicks shut. I brave a look in Milán’s direction. He’s eyeing me calmly with an unreadable expression.

“Let’s get you settled,” I say.

He follows me silently up the stairs. I stop in front of Theo’s door and quietly push it open. Theo is sleeping in his bed the way he usually does, all the blankets fashioned into a cocoon. Rory is sprawled out on the floor, head and upper body on the mattress, legs hanging over the side, hugging a pillow and snoring softly. Dog is laying between the two of them, blinking slowly at us.

This time my smile is real.

Milán snorts softly from behind my shoulder.

“I used to be able to do that,” he says in a low voice. “Sleep in any position, anywhere, anytime.”

“Yeah. Not anymore, though. I need a bed.”

It’s not like what I say has some sort of double meaning, but just the mention of a bed while standing this close to Milán makes my mouth go dry.

Get a grip, Jordan.

I don’t.

I close the door and motion toward the stairs. “Up there.”

“You have a lot of stairs in this place,” Milán says while we move up a floor.

“The joy of a townhouse. It’s high and on the narrow side.”

He’s quiet for a bit, then, “Where’s your room?”

I point to a door.

“And the guest room?”

I point to the door next to mine.