Bad Rep (Bad Rep #1)(64)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

“Have a seat, baby,” he said softly, waiting for me to slide into the booth. This was the booth where Riley and I had sat during our very first shift at Barton’s. The first day I met Jordan. The first time I realized how crazy I was about him.

I looked over and saw a large vase of irises sitting on the table. I reached out to finger the petals. “These are my favorites,” I said, my heart close to bursting. Jordan smiled.

“I know. You always have some in a vase in your room.” I met his eyes and his literally sparkled back at me. Did this guy miss anything?

“Wow, you pay a lot of attention to the little stuff, huh?” I was sort of in shock. Jordan grabbed my hand across the table and laced our fingers together.

“I pay attention to absolutely everything about you, Mays.” I felt all tingly. This was turning into the best first date ever.

Riley came back a few minutes later with our drinks, even though I hadn’t ordered anything. She put a Sam Adams in front of me and a Sierra Nevada IPA in front of Jordan. “Damn, I love this beer.” I said, immediately taking a long drink.

“I know,” was all Jordan said. Of course he did. Nothing got passed him.

I took another drink and looked over at Riley who was arranging salt and pepper shakers on her empty tables. “You must be taking a hit on tips in order to give us our own section,” I commented. Riley’s eyes flicked over to Jordan and she gave a small smile.

“Eh, it’s been taken care of.” I looked at Jordan and my eyes widened. He looked pleased with himself.

“I wanted my girl to have a special night. And I wanted you all to myself. So I took care of Riley in order to get that for you.” He said it like it was nothing. But I knew Riley could easily pull down $100 in tips during a busy dinner rush. I was sure Jordan made sure she was compensated for holding her other tables open. I didn’t know what to say.

“Wow, who knew Jordan Levitt was such a romantic?” I teased, my hands a little shaky as I picked up my beer again.

Riley shot me a look that said “I-told-you-so,” she wiped her tables down and then turned to us. “I’ll be back with your appetizers.”

Jordan and I drank our beers in silence for a few minutes. “Thanks, Jordan. I wasn’t sure what to expect when you pulled up at Barton’s. But this is seriously cool,” I admitted. Jordan shrugged.

“I wanted tonight to be special. And when I was racking my brain trying to think of somewhere to take you, I kept coming back to here. Because this is where it started for us. I couldn’t think of a better place to take you. Back to where it all began.”

“Jeez, Jordan. You’re killing me here,” I groaned, finishing my beer.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, babe.” He smirked. God, was that Stairway to Heaven playing over the sound system? I sat remembering when he tried to teach me to play it. Shit, it totally was. Then Riley brought out the appetizers, which consisted of Barton’s bread sticks and chicken wings. Both were my staples when I worked there. I had them almost every night after a shift, Jordan often joining me. He had seriously thought of everything.

I picked up a bread stick and bit off a portion. “Maybe the bread sticks weren’t such a good idea.” Jordan’s voice dropped low and his eyes were focused on my mouth as I put the bread stick in my mouth. He was practically smoldering so I made a show of sliding the long piece of bread between my lips. Who knew eating could be so dirty?

Jordan growled in the back of his throat. “Keep that up and we won’t be having dinner. We’ll skip straight to dessert.” I laughed as I chewed. Moving onto safer topics, I asked him about Generation Rejects’ next gig. “We’re taking a few weeks off so I can focus on my mid-terms. And then Mitch lined us some gigs up until the holidays. I’ve got to do some thinking. You know about after graduation,” he said, looking a little uncomfortable.

“What do you mean? Come on, tell me,” I urged. Jordan rubbed his chin and looked deep in thought. I hadn’t really thought about what would happen after Jordan graduated in the spring. He had seemed so unsure every time it was mentioned that I hadn’t bothered him much about it.

Jordan picked up a chicken wing and held it between his fingers. He stared at the table top. “Well, the guys really want me to stick around after May. They want to try and take the band on tour for the summer. Mitch has a cousin who’s a club promoter in Washington D.C and thinks he can get us some gigs up north,” he told me hesitantly.

Wow. That sounded amazing. “Jordan, that’s great! You should do it!” I encouraged. Jordan smiled then, looking a little relieved.

“Yeah? That would mean I’d be gone a lot,” he hedged and my stomach dropped a bit. I hadn’t thought about that. Jordan on the road. Playing music. With girls throwing themselves at him. Ugh! I would not think about that!

“Don’t worry about me. This is your dream. You’ve got to do it for you,” I insisted, even if I didn’t feel entirely sure. Jordan picked up my hand and kissed the soft skin on the underside of my wrist. Butterflies instantly fluttered their wings in my stomach.

“If only my parents could be as cool about it as you are,” he said, his face darkening.

I squeezed his fingers. “They’ll come around. Or they won’t. But, Jordan, you can’t live your life worrying about what they think,” I said. Huh, if only I could take my own advice. It was so easy to say when it wasn’t directed at me.

“Here you go guys.” Riley appeared at our side and dropped two plates on the table. A bacon cheeseburger, fully loaded in front of Jordan and Tequila chicken in front of me.

“How the hell did you know that I love tequila chicken?” I asked, more than a little in awe of how thorough he had been this evening. Jordan’s lips curled up in an easy smile.

“I have my sources,” he teased. Riley coughed.

“He means me,” she interjected dryly.

Jordan frowned at my best friend. “Way to ruin the mystique, Riley,” he muttered. I chuckled and started eating my dinner. Riley rolled her eyes (her favorite expression) and left us alone. Before Jordan picked up his burger he looked at me intensely. I held a forkful of pasta poised at my mouth.

“What?” I asked. Jordan stood up and leaned over the table, cupping my face in his hands.

“Thank you for taking a chance on me,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to my forehead.

Well, damn. My fork clattered to my plate and I covered his hands with mine and tilted my head back, capturing his mouth. We broke a part a minute later, each of us a little breathless. “What choice did I have?” I whispered back with a smile.