Chapter 81

• Grunting as he hurriedly threw on his clothes after haphazardly picking the first fabric he could get his hands on, Jordan had never in his entire life, multitasked as much and as frantically as he currently did. He buttoned up his shirt—his quivering hands making the task more difficult than it ought to be—while shaking his head to get rid of the water residue in his hair from his quick shower (the quickest he had ever showered), not having the time or patience to towel it dry as he simultaneously paced the length of the room in socks to find a pair of comfortable shoes since they were all only gathering in the backyard.
• Finally done securing the buttons on his shirt, Jordan grabbed a towel, fed up with the water marks ruining his shirt from his damp hair, and ran it vigorously through his hair; he crossed the room with a pair of shoes in his hold (ones he had also grabbed at first sight), only to suddenly howl in pain when he stubbed his little toe against the wooden bedpost.
• “Fuck!” he cursed, scowling in pain as he hopped on one foot, cradling the other throbbing one in his hand. Groaning loudly, Jordan fell back on their king-sized bed, exhaling a heavy sigh. He shut his eyes, throwing an arm over his face, and cursed his unfortunate luck on this day. He blamed himself for giving in to the temptation that was his wife and the most painful part of it all was that they hadn't even been able to go all the way before being interrupted.