Chapter 82: 82 | Comfort Over Style Tonight [PS BONUS]

Jordan: had to make sure you never think of me as a pay pig again. pay up.

Alexis’s jaw dropped. Her fingers tightened on the fabric.

That. Fucking. Asshole.

Heat rushed through her chest. Up her neck. Across her face.

She grabbed her phone. Typed furiously.

Alexis: ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

Jordan: dead serious

Jordan: uber black isn’t cheap

Alexis: YOU FORCED ME INTO THE UBER

Jordan: i saved your life

Alexis: I WAS FINE

Jordan: you were drunk

Alexis: BARELY TIPSY

Jordan: three shots alexis

Alexis: IM NOT PAYING YOU

Jordan: then i’m reporting you to cash app court

Alexis: THATS NOT A REAL THING

Jordan: prove it

Alexis threw herself back on her bed. Stared at the ceiling. Her chandelier glittered with crystals that probably cost more than Jordan’s entire wardrobe.

Her phone buzzed again.

Jordan: clock’s ticking princess

Jordan: interest accrues at midnight

Princess. He called her princess. Again.

The nickname made something twist in her stomach. Something warm and annoying and completely unwelcome.

She sat up. Typed with her thumbs moving fast. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

Alexis: i’m keeping your shirt as collateral

Jordan: that’s theft

Alexis: that’s hostage negotiation

Jordan: pretty sure hostages are people

Alexis: your shirt is people to me

Jordan: that’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever said

Alexis: you don’t know me well enough to make that call

Jordan: fair point

Jordan: still want my $75 though

Alexis looked at the Apple Cash request. At the clean demand with no apology attached.

Her finger hovered over decline.

She pressed it. Hard.

Transaction Declined

Immediately her phone lit up.

Jordan: oh so we’re playing hardball

Alexis: we’re not playing anything

Jordan: you’re holding my shirt hostage

Alexis: correct

Jordan: and refusing to pay your debt

Alexis: i don’t have debts

Jordan: everyone has debts alexis

Alexis: not me

Jordan: you literally just created one five minutes ago

Alexis: i didn’t ask you to call the uber

Jordan: you didn’t ask me not to

Alexis: BECAUSE YOU DIDNT GIVE ME A CHOICE

Jordan: still counts

Alexis’s face burned. Her hands clenched around her phone case. The audacity. The absolute nerve.

This boy. This stupid boy who sang like sin and looked at her like she didn’t scare him.

Her brain supplied seventeen different insults. Each one sharper than the last.

But her thumbs stayed frozen.

Because underneath the anger sat something else. Something that felt suspiciously like amusement.

He was messing with her. Deliberately. Pushing buttons just to watch her react.

And she was reacting. Exactly how he wanted.

Ugh.

Alexis: the shirt is worth more than $75

Jordan: it’s from target

Alexis: it’s warm and smells good

Jordan: did you just compliment my smell

Alexis’s stomach dropped. Oh no. Oh god. She did not just type that.

Alexis: no

Jordan: you definitely did

Alexis: i said the SHIRT smells good

Jordan: the shirt smells like me

Alexis: the shirt smells like LAUNDRY

Jordan: uh huh

Jordan: sure

Alexis: I HATE YOU

Jordan: no you don’t

Alexis: YES I DO

Jordan: if you hated me you wouldn’t be texting me at midnight

Alexis: if you weren’t annoying i wouldn’t HAVE to text you

Jordan: compelling logic

Alexis: it’s airtight

Jordan: it’s really not

Alexis groaned. Loud. Into her empty bedroom.

Her white walls stayed silent. Her custom bedding offered no support. Even her mood lighting betrayed her by making everything look soft and romantic.

She looked down at herself. At the black henley swallowing her frame. At the way the sleeves covered her hands completely.

It really did smell good. Cedar and clean cotton and something underneath that made her want to press her face into the fabric.

Which was insane. Completely insane.

She was Alexis Van Der Berg. She didn’t press her face into boys’ shirts like some lovesick freshman.

Her phone buzzed.

Jordan: just admit you like the shirt

Alexis: i’m using it for evil purposes

Jordan: such as

Alexis: you’ll see

Jordan: ominous

Jordan: i’m into it

Heat rushed through Alexis’s chest again. Different this time. Not anger.

Something worse.

She stood up. Walked to her full-length mirror. The one with the ring light attached that she used for outfit checks and Instagram posts.

The henley hung to mid-thigh. Made her look smaller. Softer. The sleeves bunched around her wrists. The neckline showed her collarbone and the edge of her shoulder.

She looked... cute.

Ugh. She hated cute.

Cute was for girls like Kumiko. Girls who wore twin tails and pastel colors and made boys want to protect them.

Alexis was not cute. She was hot. Intimidating. Untouchable.

But the henley made her look soft. Made her look like someone who needed taking care of.

Her phone sat on her bed. Camera ready.

An idea formed. Terrible. Petty. Absolutely perfect.

She grabbed her phone. Opened Instagram. Positioned herself on her bed with the white silk sheets as background.

The ring light cast perfect illumination. Highlighted her face and the oversized henley and nothing else.

She took the photo. Adjusted the angle. Took another. Then another.

The third one was perfect. Her head tilted slightly. Her hair falling over one shoulder. The henley’s collar loose around her neck. Her expression carefully neutral. Not smiling. Not trying.

Just existing. Looking effortlessly good in someone else’s shirt.

She opened the photo editor. Adjusted the brightness. Upped the contrast. Made her eyes pop and her skin glow.

Added a filter. Valencia. Made everything look sun-kissed and expensive.

She opened the caption box. Thought for three seconds.

comfort over style tonight 🤍

Posted.

The photo went live. Her follower count sat at forty-three thousand. Most of them bots or creepy men. But enough real people to make this statement land exactly how she wanted.

Within ten seconds the likes started rolling in.

@bradchadington69 liked your post

@alpha_mike_romeo liked your post

@nice_guy_347 liked your post

Her phone exploded with notifications. Comments flooded in.

@jessicamarks: omg gorgeous

@tylerross_: whose shirt is that 👀

@maddiechen: ALEXIS. DETAILS. NOW.

@eliza_hartwell: looking cozy babe

Alexis’s mouth curved. Just slightly. The smallest hint of satisfaction.

Let Jordan see this. Let him see her looking perfect in his stupid Target henley while forty-three thousand people validated her existence.

Let him try to ask for seventy-five dollars now.

Her phone buzzed. A text.

Jordan: really

Alexis: what

Jordan: you posted my shirt

Alexis: i posted ME

Alexis: the shirt just happens to be present

Jordan: that’s my henley

Alexis: it’s MY henley now

Alexis: possession is nine tenths of the law

Jordan: that’s not how that works

Alexis: it is now

Jordan: you’re impossible

Alexis: you’re annoying

Jordan: fair

Jordan: the post looks good though

Alexis’s stomach flipped. Hard. Fast.

She stared at the message. At the simple compliment with no expectation attached.

Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Started typing. Deleted. Typed again.

Alexis: i know

Jordan: confident

Alexis: realistic

Jordan: same thing

Alexis: not even close

Jordan: if you say so

Another notification. This time from Instagram.

@jordan_mcknight liked your post

Alexis’s breath caught. She clicked on his profile.

Private account. Seventy-three followers. Profile picture was him and Kyle at the gym. Both sweaty. Both grinning.

When did he get abs like that?

She locked her phone. Threw it on her bed. Pressed her palms against her face.

This was stupid. So stupid. She was Alexis Van Der Berg. She didn’t get flustered over boys liking her Instagram posts.

Her phone buzzed again.

Jordan: you still owe me $75

Alexis: THE SHIRT IS COLLATERAL

Jordan: the shirt is stolen property

Alexis: it’s a LOAN

Jordan: loans have terms

Alexis: fine. terms are i keep it until i feel like giving it back

Jordan: that’s not terms that’s theft

Alexis: sue me

Jordan: tempting

Jordan: Goodnight princess

Alexis’s heart kicked against her ribs. Hard. Insistent.

She grabbed her phone. Stared at the message.

Then she buried her face in his henley and screamed.