One Little Chance (Sweet River)

Chapter 15

APRIL 23RD, 2023

T here was no way I could go to sleep that night, tossing and turning in the wee hours of the morning. No longer sick with a cold. Instead, I was sick over Jordan. Sick with worry about him at a house fire, sick at the abrupt end of our conversation.

I buried my head in my pillow. If I scoured the past few weeks for clues, he had to feel the same. He’d kissed me senseless. He’d stood in the rain with me, and I knew in my bones he didn’t want to leave my side that night either. He’d spent every Saturday with me. And I was the one he needed when he was at his lowest— my hand he held onto for dear life.

I tried to call him as the hours passed, but it kept going straight to voicemail. Either his phone had died, or he was still busy with the fire and had to ignore my calls. I waited until the sun was finally rising outside my window to try giving his mom a call, but she didn’t answer either.

I didn’t even know what project they were at or how to find it, but I kicked off my blankets and got out of bed. I couldn’t stay in my house.

T here was no answer at his apartment door. His truck wasn’t in the parking lot.

I drove the gravel dirt road that led me to Jordan’s family home, but there were no cars parked out front.

My car crept through Downtown Sweet River this sleepy Sunday morning, the wind blowing my dark tresses in the wind. Was I pushing too hard? Sophie pounding her feet against the pavement, stretching farther with her end goal in line of sight? Reaching for Jordan whether he was ready for it or not?

Katie Hernandez was outside Coffees & Commas, flipping the sign over the door from Closed to Open when she spotted me and waved. The downtown streets were empty as I pointed my car toward home.

I parked my car in my driveway and hit the call button again—still no answer. Should I call his sisters for an update on the fire? They’d seemed so distant since I came back. My phone felt heavy in my hand. The sky was pink and tangerine in the morning light.

My phone vibrated in my hand. I swiped to answer before even reading who the caller was.

“Hello?”

“Sophie?” Orlando greeted me.

“Oh, hey.” My voice dropped.

“I know it’s early, but I’m actually getting ready to go with this girl I like to her church this morning, and I wanted your opinion on shirts. Button down or polo?” My phone beeped. I glanced at the screen where he’d sent a photo of each shirt.

I sniffled. “Button down. You always look nice in navy.”

It was quiet for a beat. “Soph, I’ve never heard anyone say a compliment like they were saying they’d just been dumped. Are you okay?”

“It’s early,”

“You’re still in bed?” He sounded far away like he’d set the phone down to change.

“No.” I glanced out my window. “I’m in my car.”

“Soph,” he chastised me through an echo.

“I’m worried for Jordan. He was over last night and had to run out the door really late because one of his builds caught fire—and I haven’t heard from him since.”

“I’m sure he’s okay. He wasn’t going to run into the fire or anything. He was probably talking and answering questions with the fireman and police and stuff, yeah?”

I nodded against the phone. “I know. My calls keep going to voicemail.”

“How many times have you called?”

“Several.” I sighed.

A beat passed. “How late was he at your house?”

“Like…three a.m.”

“What?” He sounded closer like he’d pulled the phone back to his ear. “You guys talking again?”

“We were right in the middle of talking actually?—”

“Typical three a.m. chats with pals?” he said sarcastically.

“I was sick, and he came over to take care of me?—”

“Taking care of you when you’re sick, noted.”

“And we’d both passed out. Then we woke up and realized it was late, and we started talking about our feelings. And that’s when he got a call and had to run out.”

“So you’re worried about the fire but also worried about the talk.” Orlando’s tone switched from quizzical to concerned. “Worried or Sophie obsessing ?”

“Obsessing. Of course.” I clicked off my seatbelt.

“Can you give me a rundown of what you were discussing in the middle of the night while ill?”

“I woke up and was feeling better. I told him how being near him felt like…coming up for air. We kissed?—”

“Coming up for air? That’s like poetic stuff there, Soph,” he said before the whirring of his electric toothbrush sounded on the other line.

“We’d actually kissed a few weeks ago but decided we needed to cool it so we could figure things out. So after we kissed again last night, where he repeatedly told me he’d missed me, I asked if he felt he’d figured anything out?—”

“He obviously had figured out he’d missed you,” he said through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Right? But I don’t know.” I rubbed my forehead. “I’m nervous he was caught up in the moment and when we talk again, he’ll have come back to his senses and put a stop to things.”

“Why would his senses equal him not being with you? If the man has any sense, he’ll realize being with you would be the best thing to ever happen to him,” he said.

I smiled at the phone. “Orlando, you’re sweet. I think I’m afraid he won’t be able to let go of our past breakup.” I mean, Jordan had compared our breakup to a car crash.

“Soph, it took a literal house fire in the middle of the night to pull him away from you. Even while you were presumably contagious. I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he said plainly. “Meanwhile, I’m about to attend church with someone’s parents that I’ve never met, and this girl has yet to agree to accompany me on a date.”

“If she has any sense, she’ll realize going on a date with you would be the best thing to ever happen to her,” I said.

I slid the key into my front door when I heard a familiar truck engine roaring behind me. Jordan’s truck pulled up in front of my house.

He cut the engine and kicked open his door while I left the key hanging in mine. I ran from my porch to my gate where he stood.

Eyes worn. Face streaked with charcoal. Clothes smelling of smoke.

“My phone’s dead,” he said. “I didn’t want to wait for it to charge to talk to you.”

“How’d it go? It’s been hours.”

“Took hours to get the fire put out. But it’s out. I was out there with Dad, having to answer question after question and deal with stuff.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose “It’s going to be okay, though. We’ll figure it out.”

Jordan was always figuring things out. “I’m sorry.” I stepped closer to him, my arms crossed. “You should go home and get some sleep. You didn’t need?—”

“You trying to get rid of me, Rogers?” He raised an eyebrow. The grin tugging at his lips made me feel recklessly hopeful.

I’d made so many choices in my past out of fear, but now, I was ready to make one out of hope.

I grabbed a handful of his sweatshirt in both hands and said, “I love you, Jordan. I’ve always loved you. I didn’t end things with us in the past because of any lack of love. Since I was a girl, I’ve loved you. I think now as a woman, I love you even more.” I’d felt this love for so long it felt like one of my elemental truths. Sophia Rogers was a runner, a teacher, and loved Jordan Silk.

He squeezed my shoulders, his fingertips rough against my skin. “Are you sure you’re not just wanting a do-over? Because I’m not interested in the past.” He stepped back, still gripping my shoulders and running his eyes down my body. “I want this Sophie. The strength, the grace, the confidence... I can’t live in this town with you and not call you mine.”

“I don’t want a do-over.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to relive our old story, as much as I love it. I want new pages for us.”

His forehead pressed against mine.

“Can you forgive me for disappearing on you for years?” I asked because I knew that there was no bridge to the other side of our story if Jordan couldn’t trust me.

He pulled his head away from mine and blinked at me, looking at me in disbelief. “ Of course . I forgave you a long time ago. I knew breaking my heart wasn’t your intention. You were a kid trying to survive.”

I was standing on the tip of my toes, sliding my arms around his neck. “Well, I’m sorry I ever broke your heart.”

He pulled my body tight against his, his big palms warm against my waist. “I like where we are right now.” Then he cleared his throat. “When I drove away last night, I kept asking myself how in the world I was letting anything, at all, tear us apart again. How could I waste any more time not telling you—” His voice broke off.

His pulse throbbed in his neck under my hands.

“Tell me?” I whispered. I’d been desperate to hear what Jordan was thinking.

“Tell you.” His voice trembled with emotion. “I’ve been an idiot since you climbed into the front seat of my truck back in January, thinking I had it in me to be just your friend. Like I had it in me to get over you. ’Cause you asked me if I figured it out, and all I’ve got, Rogers, is that it’s impossible for me to get over you. I never did, and I don’t think I ever can.”

His lips crashed into mine, dipping me low. I dug my hands into his hair. He dug his hands into my waist.

Every nerve in my body melted under his warmth, as I rasped, “Never get over me then ’cause I’m yours, Jordan.”

“All,” he kissed me so hard I almost lost my balance, “ mine .”