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Jordan’s Second Chance 4.3
Jordan dragged a reluctant Wynter into the living room where his friend Jonas Templeton waited. He’d met Jonas years ago when they attended the same college. The both of them had passed literature by the skin of their teeth, creating a bond forged by the fires of their professor, Dr. Theopulus.
Placing a hand in the middle of Wynter’s back, Jordan urged the small man forward. “Jonas, this is Wynter, the man you’ll guard with your life.”
“I don’t really think—,” Wynter grunted and glared at Jordan when the man slapped him on the ass.
“We’ve already discussed this love. You’re getting a bodyguard.”
Wynter gritted his teeth together and turned toward their guest, pasting a false smile on his lips. “It’s nice to meet you,” he murmured. Wynter knew that if he raised his voice any higher, he would yell at the stubborn man beside him. Wynter wanted to hit something, he didn’t want a bodyguard!
Jonas was the same height as Jordan and had dark brown hair and steel gray eyes that seemed to notice everything. Amusement danced in those gray eyes. “Somehow I doubt that,” Jonas smirked, then said, “The way Jordan described you, I pictured a small kitten who would rather play than fight. After meeting you, I now know the truth.”
Wynter blinked, confused. What was the man talking about? “Thank you?”
Jonas laughed, a warm, booming sound that invited those who heard to join in. Wynter’s lips curved and he shook his head. He turned into a snow leopard, so he had no room to think of anyone as weird.
“You and I are going to get along just fine, kid,” Jonas chuckled. He walked over and placed his arm around Wynter’s shoulders, guiding him toward the kitchen.
Wynter glanced toward Jordan for help, but the traitor just grinned and pulled his phone out. Wynter vowed revenge as he allowed himself to be led into the kitchen as Jonas exclaimed over the aroma of tea. Nana was brewing a pot, which meant she was feeling unsettled. Nana always brewed tea when she needed to settle her nerves.
“Tea smells wonderful, ma’am. May I have a cup as well?” Jonas asked as soon as they entered the kitchen.
“Of course,” Nana said, bringing two cups with saucers over and filling them.
Wynter inhaled the soothing aroma and felt his muscles begin to relax. Maybe there was something to the whole tea and relaxation thing. “Thanks, Nana.” Wynter reached over and began to add sugar to the brew.
Wynter paused in adding another spoonful of sugar, puzzled at the silence in the room. “What?”
“Are you really going to drink that? I feel as if I’ve gained ten cavities and as if I’m about to slip into a diabetic coma,” Jonas grimaced.
“What’s wrong with adding sugar to my tea?”
“That’s the fifth spoonful, if you add anymore, you’ll have more sugar than tea in that cup.”
Wynter rolled his eyes and added another spoonful. He snickered when Jonas quickly grabbed the canister and slid it to the far side of the counter. “You keep that up and I won’t have to guard you against a psychotic woman, you’ll kill yourself.”
Jonas and Wynter quickly turned toward the sound. Nana was standing in front of the refrigerator, shards of the pitcher of tea littered the floor, the brown liquid soaking the tile. Her skin was a pasty color and Wynter watched as perspiration beaded her top lip.
“Nana, are you okay?” Wynter rushed toward his grandmother, heedless of the broken glass.
“He’s back? Isn’t he?” Nana whispered before collapsing.
To be continued…
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