Page 44 of Dissolving Prejudice

He asked me to sit and wait while he went back to get something. A movie was playing in the background, but I was too distracted to hear a word. My head was a mess, and now, on top of all the crap that went on with Camilo, I had to sink into guilt for dragging Jordan into another mess. He barely got out of it with his life the first time, yet he still returned to me. How selfish could I be?

“Hey,” he said, and I looked up as he came back to sit beside me. “Is everything okay, babe?”

Pressing my lips together, I nodded. “Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“Is it your ankles? Do they hurt?” he asked while already lifting my legs up and resting my feet on his lap. Ever since my injury, my legs hadn’t fully recovered, and I still suffered from pain once in a while.

He began massaging my ankles when I noticed the bag he’d brought back with him. “What’s that?” I asked, cocking my head in its direction.

Jordan cleared his throat before he removed his hands from my feet and reached for the bag. Moving a hand over his buzzed head, he then handed it to me.

My brows rose in surprise when I looked inside the bag at the pink lingerie set he’d bought me.

“The other night, it seemed like you liked it.” He swallowed hard. “And I thought… maybe we should try it again. I mean, if dressing up makes you feel good.” A small blush crept to his tawny cheeks, making this moment feel so criminally innocent that it left me stunned.

There was something so simple about Jordan that it made me believe that despite how I still felt toward Camilo, if I tried hard enough, I might just be able to move on.

Putting the bag down on the floor, I moved to sit in his lap. “Why don’t we get out of here?” I asked, wrapping my arms around him.

“What do you mean?” He smiled, his fingers moving along my spine.

I shrugged. “Let’s just get on a plane and go someplace.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere.”

Anywhere that will be far enough from him.

Diesel

“What’s that?” I asked, eyeing the huge gift basket loaded with expensive crap that was sitting on Dion’s desk.

“A gift,” the French asshole stated the obvious.

I peered back at the basket, my eyes narrowed at the handwritten note pinned to the top. It had a fucking heart drawn on it.

A. Fucking. Heart.

“Yeah, but to whom?”

“My lawyer.”

Ah, I should have known. Ever since Soren got shot, Dion had been overdoing it with the gifts. It would have been cute if it weren’t for, well, him.

Stepping farther into his office, I sat down on the couch while he continued to mess with the damn basket. Checking my phone, I saw Oro had texted me dozens of times since the morning, asking when I’d come to see him dance. I had no interest in seeing him perform half-naked on a stage, but since he’d been helping me quite a bit the last few weeks with intel, I had no other choice.

Me: I’ll stop by tonight.

Oro: For real?

Me: Yeah.

Oro: Bring me a gift when you come. Okay?

I didn’t bother responding to that last text and pocketed my phone before reaching for the fruit plate that was on the small table in front of me. Picking up a few grapes, I popped one in my mouth and looked at Dion. “So why am I here?”

“I want you to bring this to the lawyer in person,” he said while I chewed.