Bad Rep (18 page)

Jordan shrugged. “Of course I can do that.  I just have too much going on with this being my senior year.  Plus the band is picking up more gigs and I didn't have the time for Pi Sig stuff.  Plus, I'm sort of over the whole Greek thing.  But don't say anything,” he whispered conspiratorially.

Jordan Levitt was full of surprises.  “I won't breathe a word.  Cross my heart.” I traced an 'x' over my chest and I saw Jordan follow the movement.  I flushed as his eyes darted from my boobs back up to my face.  “Will you be at the mixer on Saturday?” I asked, handing him his stuff from my basket.

He took the items and waited as I unloaded my crap.  “Yeah, I'll be there.  Wouldn't miss it,” he said, grinning.  I tried not to read too much into it, but it was hard when he was looking at me like that. 

“Yeah, should be fun,” I replied lamely. 

I turned away from him and paid for my stuff.  When I was finished, I grabbed my bags and started to leave.  “Well, I'll see ya later,” I called to him.  Jordan handed the teller his debit card and then reached out to grab my hand. 

“Wait for me.  Why don't we go get a coffee or something?” he said.  I was torn.  I wasn't sure Jordan and me hanging out was a good idea.  But what could it hurt?  It was just coffee. 

“Sure, that sounds good.”  I held my bags and waited for him to finish up.  When he was done, he grabbed his items and then reached over and took mine as well.  My heart swelled at the gesture.  We walked out of the store and stood on the sidewalk. 

“Where are you parked?” he asked me.  I pointed to the aisle three rows over.  “I'm right here.  Why don't you meet me at the Cup and Crumb,” he suggested. 

I nodded and went to take my bags from him.  He reached out at the same time and our hands brushed against each other.  I tried not to sigh at the physical contact as I took my things.  “Thanks for carrying them for me,” I said quietly.

“Sure,” he remarked nonchalantly.  “See you in a few minutes,” he called over his shoulder as he headed toward a Ducati motorcycle.  Of course he had a motorcycle.  Could he fit the bad boy image anymore if he tried?  If he wasn't so delicious I would have laughed at how trite it was.

I hurried to my car, slinging my bags onto the back seat and threw the car into reverse.  I realized once I pulled out onto the road that Jordan was behind me.  It was hard to focus on the road when I really wanted to stare at him riding his bike in my rear view mirror.  He looked dangerous and more than a little lethal, his face obscured by the dark helmet and his strong hands gripping the handlebars. 

I was so screwed.  Because I couldn't stay away from him, no matter how much I knew I should.  And I was starting to not give a shit about the consequences.  The fact that he was dating Olivia started not to mean so much.  Because I wanted him to be mine.  And that was clouding my better judgment.

I pulled into the Cup and Crumb, Jordan parking his bike beside me.  I held my breath as I watched him take off his helmet and tuck it under his arm.  I wiped my mouth, sure that drool had dribbled down my chin.  He waited for me to get out of my car then followed me into the coffee shop. 

The Cup and Crumb was a popular hangout for Rinard students and it was pretty busy.  We approached the counter and I pulled out my wallet.  Jordan put his hand on mine.  “I've got this, Mays,” he said and I slowly put my wallet back in my purse. 

“Hey Jordan!” The girl behind the counter squeaked.  Her name tag said Molly and she was batting her pretty little eyelashes at him as he looked at the day's specials. 

“Hey, Molly.  How's it going?” he asked her. 

“I'm good.” Molly puffed up at his attention before shooting a strange look my way.  Everyone on campus probably knew who he was dating and she was wondering who the hell I was.

“What are you getting?” Jordan asked.

“Caramel latte with extra whipped cream, and two of the mini chocolate eclairs, please,” I said, giving him my normal order. 

“Sweet tooth, eh?” he teased.  He ordered a black coffee and we stood to the side while we waited for our order.

“So will Generation Rejects be playing Barton's again anytime soon?” I asked him as we waited.  Jordan cocked his eyebrow.

“Why, have you decided to become one of our groupies?” he asked jokingly. 

I huffed.  “No way.  I don't do the groupie thing.  I was just wondering because you guys are sort of entertaining.”  I told him coyly, shooting him a small grin.

“Sort of entertaining?  You're breaking my heart, Maysie.” He clutched his chest dramatically.  I smacked his arm.

“Here you go, Jordan.” Molly appeared suddenly, handing him our drinks while I took my plate of pastries.  The girl shot me another look, this one not at all friendly, before turning to the next customer. 

“I think she likes you,” I said as we made our way to a booth near the back. 

Jordan rolled his eyes.  “Whatever.  Molly is in my poly sci class, she's just being nice.”  He dismissed my statement.  I slid into the booth and sipped on my latte.

“Are you blind, Jordan, or just oblivious?” I asked, shaking my head.

“Uh, neither,” he replied, looking at me over the lip of his mug.

I laughed but it came out as a snort.  “Okay.  You just choose not to acknowledge when girls practically fall all over you.”  My lips quirked in a smile.

“If that were true, I wouldn't feel as though I were chasing you all the time,” he murmured, taking a sip of his coffee.  I choked on the eclair I had just taken a bite of.  Was he being serious?  I had no idea how to respond.

The air was thick with the sexual tension between us.  I tapped my fingers on the table.  “So, tell me why are you so done with Pi Sig?  I thought you were Mr. Fraternity,” I asked, trying to refocus the conversation on something with less potential for an explosion. 

Jordan cleared his throat.  “I used to be.  I mean, I like the guys alright.  But I get sick of the backhanded bullshit that goes on.  Do you know what I'm talking about?  I mean, you've got to see it over there with the Chi Delts,” he said. 

I nodded, understanding him exactly.  “Yeah, it's kind of like swimming with sharks at times.  I worry they're going to take off my foot if I don't toe the line,” I joked. 

Jordan frowned at me.  “Well, why do it then?  You don't seem like you belong with Olivia's herd.”  I didn't know if I should be insulted or not. 

What was he trying to say?

“Well, I wanted to make some new friends.  So I figured why not.  And I like the girls in Chi Delta.  Most of them are really nice,” I said defensively.  The truth was, I got what he was saying and I wondered how I would survive in the dog eat dog environment the school's Greek system bred.  You had to fit the mold or get out.  Which was so against everything I had always stood for.  But now, I was doing nothing but spending my energies on trying to fit in.

“Well, I guess that's what's important,” Jordan mused, looking as if he didn't believe me.  His attitude was making me a little angry. Nothing pissed me off more than when people questioned my choices. It made me feel inferior and insignificant.  As though I were incapable of making a reasonable decision. 

“What does Olivia have to say about you stepping down as president?” I asked sharply.  Jordan's face darkened a bit. 

“She doesn't know,” he said, taking another drink of his coffee.

“She doesn't know?  You didn't tell her you were going to do it?” I scoffed, not believing he could keep something like that from his girlfriend. 

It was Jordan's turn to get defensive.  “Yeah, well, Olivia has her own shit going on.  I knew she'd freak out if I told her, so I just did it.  I don't need to hear about how stupid I am for giving it up,” he said bitterly. 

I couldn't cover up my surprise.  Jordan met my eyes.  “I told you before that things have been strained with Olivia and me,” he said quietly, reminding me of our disastrous conversation after he had asked me out and I had discovered he was taken.

This time, I didn't want to shut down the conversation because of my fears.  I wanted to hear from him what was going on.  “What do you mean?” I asked, moving my empty coffee mug to the edge of the table and taking another bite of an eclair.  Jordan leaned back in the booth with a sigh. 

“Have you ever been close to someone for a while and then realized that the two of you had absolutely nothing in common?” he asked me.  I shook my head.

“No, not really.  What are you getting at?” I asked him pointedly.

Jordan sat up and crossed his arms on the table.  “I started dating Olivia when we were freshmen.  We met the second week of school.  She was a different person back then.  Over the years I've realized we want different things.  I mean, I care about her.  But I just don't think we fit in each other's lives anymore.”  His words left me raw.  Was he saying that he planned to break up with Olivia, even before he asked me out?

So where did I fit into all this?  I really wanted to know, but I was too much of a chicken to come out and ask that.  “Does Olivia know you feel this way?” I asked, feeling a little sorry for my sorority sister.  Because I knew she loved Jordan.  You could tell that when she talked about him.  But I had also seen the way she so easily disregarded his feelings.  I understood what Jordan was saying about them being two different people.  Because while they may look like they belonged together, personality wise they just didn't fit.

Jordan looked frustrated.  “I don't know.  I mean, it's not like we talk about anything that isn't Greek related.”  He shook his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts.  “Enough about my Olivia drama.  How are classes going?”  I was thrown by the sudden change in topic, but I allowed it.  I didn't want to focus on Olivia any more than he did.

We spent the next twenty minutes talking about school.  Jordan revealed that he still had no idea what he wanted to do when he graduated.  He was an Accounting major, mostly because his dad wanted him to become a CPA, like he was, and partner with him at his accounting firm.  I could
not
see Jordan as an accountant.  Didn't they wear glasses and buttoned collared shirts with Chinos?  How could his dad even begin to think that would be a suitable career path for Jordan?  I had known the guy for all of two minutes yet I knew unequivocally that he was meant to do a hell of a lot more with his life than crunching numbers.

Jordan explained that his mom owned her own chocolate shop and imported sweets from all over the world.  He spoke warmly of his mom and I knew that even though his feelings for his father were strained, his mother was his rock. 

He talked about staying in town after he graduated and playing with Generation Rejects.   That seemed to be where his passion lay.  His face lit up when he talked about playing shows and his dream of making music for a living.

“My dad would never go for it though.  I've been told enough times, by a lot of people, that I need to concentrate on making a proper living and not put my energies into something that will never happen.” He sounded sad and I couldn't help myself from reaching over and putting my hand on his.  Jordan turned his hand so that he pressed his palm against mine and laced our fingers together.  It felt right.  As though our hands were meant to hold each other.

“Are you an only child?  Or do you have any brothers or sisters?” I asked.  Jordan shook his head. 

“Nope, just me.  So I am the lone recipient of my dad's disappointment.” He let out a frustrated breath.  I squeezed his hand before pulling away. 

“The only child club kind of sucks sometimes, huh?” I asked lightly.  Jordan cocked his head to the side.

“You too?” he asked.  I took another bite of my eclair. 

“Present and counted for.  My parents were older when they had me.  My mom was forty-two, my dad almost fifty.  They didn't think they'd be able to have any kids.  So when I happened, I became their sole focus.  Their last ditch effort at realizing their dreams.” I admitted harshly.