Almost as if it had been rehearsed, Jordan dove for me and Gunnar grabbed her. “Jen, stop,” he said to her.
I grabbed her wrists to prevent the uncharacteristic attack. Her features were twisted with anger and her body was shaking. She appeared to be at the end of her tether. And apparently, under the influence. What was going on?
My mom was not a drunk—at least as far as I knew. She struggled against Gunnar’s hold, and as he tried to contain her, his elbow slammed into my mouth.
Pain exploded in my lip. I fell back, gasping and holding my mouth, the taste of hot copper filling it. Gunnar had split my lip.
“Shit,” Jordan muttered, pulling me into the kitchen.
“April! Shit! I’m sorry,” my mom shrieked from the living room. Gunnar was trying to calm her down as she began sobbing—loudly.
Jordan led me to the sink, where I spit out both blood and saliva. I could feel my lip already starting to swell, and it stung like…well, like I’d just been elbowed in the mouth. Jordan handed me a paper towel. “Hold this to your lip and press down, then tell me where your plastic bags are.”
I pointed to the drawer and watched as he extracted a baggie before opening up the freezer and pulling out ice cubes. He was at my side in a minute with a bag of ice and a glass of water. He pulled the towel from my mouth.
“Here, let me see.”
His head dipped low to inspect the damage, his beautiful face just inches from mine. I wanted him to kiss me, and I wouldn’t have given a shit if it hurt. I had this overwhelming desire to be in this man’s arms, to be comforted by him.
He scowled. “That miserable little asshole split your lip,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “Here, rinse your mouth out with this water and then put the ice on it. Your lip is swollen.”
I did as he asked. “Thank you,” I murmured from behind the bag of ice.
He reached out and pushed my hair behind my ear, his fingers tickling my earlobe. I involuntarily shivered and his eyes darkened when he noticed. He visibly swallowed, then smoothed his thumb over my cheek and this pang of fierce affection for him flared up. I wanted him to put his arms around me and pull me against him.
“Does she show up drunk very often?” he asked.
“Never. She’s stressed out, I think. Something’s going on.”
He frowned, opening his mouth to speak again when Gunnar walked into the kitchen.
“Heya, April. Can I, uh, can I talk to you alone?”
Jordan stiffened. I had a feeling that even if I wanted him to go, he would refuse to leave me alone with Gunnar. Thank God for that.
“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of him,” I said.
Gunnar eyed Jordan a little nervously. “This is family business.”
“Funny. You’re not my family. What do you want?”
“We, uh…we need to borrow some money.”
I raised my eyebrows. What the what? That was pretty much the last thing I expected to hear from him. From her, yes, but not from him. Gunnar was the sole heir of a fortune. His dad was the head of his own corporation and his mom was from old money. He had access to a sizeable allowance from his trust fund. He didn’t need my money. Plus—
“What happened to the job your dad promised you after graduation?”
He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, eyes on the ground. “That hasn’t gone as planned.”
I adjusted the bag of ice against my lip. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Jordan was watching me carefully.
“And you can’t ask your parents for the money because…?”
He scowled. “Same reason. They’re upset about the marriage.”
I almost laughed. Gunnar’s dad adored me and pretty much pegged me as his future daughter-in-law the first night I’d met him. Guess he wasn’t as enthusiastic about my mom, because it sounded suspiciously like they’d cut Gunnar off for marrying her.
However, I was so desperate to get Gunnar and Mom out of here without any more fuss, I was willing to fork over some money to do it.
I sighed. “How much do you need?”
“Five thousand.”
I drew back, shocked. “What? Did you get roughed up by drug dealers or something?”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s just rent and groceries for the month.”
Jeez. No wonder she was liquored up in there. She’d probably needed the booze to get the nerve to walk in here and ask me for that kind of money. This was an all-time low. It was a pattern for her, to move on to the next rich dude the moment her alimony from the previous divorce expired. And I was certain that if Gunnar had been a penniless pretty boy instead of a rich heir, she would have screwed him and moved on instead of rushing off to Vegas with him.