When Stars Cross

Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Samantha

I woke up with the worst headache of my life. It seriously felt like someone had hit me in the back of the head with a baseball bat. I was also incredibly thirsty, and I had no clue who's bedroom I was in. I rolled over in the black duvet, and tried to collect my scrambled thoughts. I scanned the grey room through blurred, and found a few hung paintings and a picture of what looked like Jordan and an older looking woman with the same sandy hair.

I was in Jordan's bed.

I began to panic as I looked down at the black mens t-shirt I was wearing. Oh lord. I had no clue what happened last night.

I attempted to string cringe worthy pieces of the night together, in hopes of regaining my full memory. I remembered the feel of the tequila burning the back of my throat, and driving to Jordan's house on the motorcycle. I also painfully remember confessing my love for him. And my last memory was embarrassingly shoving my tongue down his throat.

I groaned loudly, and violently ripped the covers off of me. There was no sight of Jordan anywhere, and the spot in the bed beside me was cold but clearly slept in. I sat up and felt woozy immediately. It took a couple seconds before I was able to began my composure.

I had never even been inside his house before, now that I thought about it. His room was slightly messy, with a few t-shirts scattered across the floor. He had a guitar perched against his wall, and the images of him playing it in my head brought a smile to my lips.

My head snapped to the closed bedroom door, where I heard a distant pot clank against something hard and metallic. I figured it was probably around 11 am, and that if I ever wanted to be a functioning member of society, I should probably peel myself out of bed.

I slowly creeped outside of his room and made my way downstairs, where the noises where coming from. The strong aroma of bacon and eggs hit my nose, and my stomach immediately growled in response. I had no idea if it was Jordan cooking in the kitchen. For all I knew, it could be one of his parents, or maybe even a chef they've hired. Either way, me coming down in his shirt would look terribly suspicious, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to be mortified and hungover.

After carefully and quietly making my way down to what I assumed was the living room area, I turned the corner to thankfully find Jordan's back facing me as he stood over the stove with no shirt and a spatula in hand. He was flipping a pancake, and the muscles in his back flexed attractively. I could hear some light salsa music playing in the background, and he was dancing to it. Shaking his hips to the passionate rhythm, I felt myself blush. I had never seen this side of him before.

After finishing off the pancake, he turned to place it on a plate when he saw me stalkerishly watching him. He grinned brightly at me, and I was taken aback with how beautiful it was. I hadn't seen him smile in a long time.

"Sammy, you're up." He said warmly.

"Hi." I croaked out in a raspy tone. He chuckled lightly and set the skillet down in the sink, before making his way over to me. His muscular build now stood towering over me, and I was beginning to feel weak in the knees again.

I needed to know what happened last night, before I went insane.

He searched my eyes for a brief second, before tucking a strand of my wild hair behind me ear. The intimate touch was enough to make my face hot once again.

"I made breakfast." He murmured softly, and I almost ignited into flames. My eyes flickered to the mass amounts of eggs, toast, fruit, pancakes, and bacon laid out on the counter. It looked as if he had cooked for a family of 5. "I didn't know what you liked, so I made a little of everything."