Page 162 of The Incredible Ordinary

“Hey,” I say because my head is empty of words. I have so many, but they’re trapped somewhere out of my reach.

“You’re up,” Milán says.

“Yeah.”

He blows out a breath. “I know you might not want to see me right now, and maybe you need more space or more?—”

“I don’t.” The words rush out. “I don’t want any of that.”

There’s a soft chuckle on the other end of the line, and I close my eyes and let the sound move through me.

“I’m getting dressed.” I’m already halfway to my closet. “I’m coming to you. Give me twenty.”

“Jordy,” he says with another soft chuckle, “I’m already here.”

My hoodie dangles from my fingers while I whirl around because I’m stupid enough to expect him to somehow appear in my bedroom out of thin air.

“Where?” I ask, frantically looking around.

“Outside.”

“I’ll be right there.”

I toss my phone onto the bed. I make too much noise sprinting down the stairs, but I don’t care. I pull the front door open and hurry outside.

He’s standing right outside my door, dressed in last night’s clothes, a careful look in his eyes when he watches me.

He holds his arms out and gives a helpless shrug.

There are so many things I have to say. So many things I want to say. Instead, I go to him and wrap myself around him as tightly as I can. We stand outside my house, impossibly early in the morning, and hug.

The soles of my bare feet are cold on the concrete, and I’m wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and a T-shirt.

He pushes his face into my neck. Lips whisper over my skin, and I slump against him.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He shakes his head. “I should’ve told you.”

“There’s a chance I wouldn’t have taken it well anyway.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I say. “I missed you.”

There’s so much to say. So much to talk about and discuss and figure out.

I step back and take his hand.

“Come inside,” I tell him.

He squeezes my hand and follows me.

MILÁN

Jordan closesthe door behind him with a quiet click and leans against it while I toe off my shoes and shrug out of my jacket, hanging it on the hook on the wall. I wipe my palms against the thighs of my jeans, and we stand still for a bit, looking at each other.

He straightens up and steps closer.