Lydia froze in her tracks at the knocking sound on her front door. She looked down at her phone to check the time. 11:26. Who in the world could that be?

The visitor knocked again. Her mom was out on a date so she decided to find a weapon of some sort before answering the door. Rummaging around in the kitchen, the best she could find was a large skillet. Slowly she approached the front door, paused to look down at her attire, and realized she was only wearing a tank top and booty shorts. After another knock she sighed. I don't even care at this point.

Wielding the skillet, she grabbed the brass doorknob and opened the door with her free hand. Once the visitor was in plain sight beneath the porch lights, she gasped aloud. "Jordan?"

He was leaning against the doorframe haphazardly and smiling like a seven year-old boy at his birthday party. "Hey, Lydia," he mumbled.

She furrowed her brows and looked him up and down. He was wearing loafers, fitted jeans, a blue V-neck, and his signature leather jacket. "Jordan, what are you doing here?"She put her hand on her hip and looked at him with concern.

"I came to see you," he replied. His words slurred together a bit and Lydia could finally smell the Tequila on his breath.

"I got that much," she spouted back. "You're drunk aren't you?"

He shook his head violently. "No – no way." Then, as if to prove her point, his hand slipped on the doorframe, causing him to fall over a little. He looked Lydia in the eyes once more. This time his expression was like a puppy after being caught chewing his owner's slipper. "Maybe a little."

I can't just leave him out on the porch and it's not a good idea to let him wander home on his own either. Lydia sighed. "Come on in." She reached out for Jordan's arm and guided him to the couch.

She wouldn't really classify what he did as sitting down; it was more falling with purpose. Once he was sitting on the couch, sprawled out and slumped down, Lydia went into the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. He drank a couple sips before pushing it away.

As she set the glass down on the coffee table, she could feel his eyes on her. She looked over at him; his expression was so loving and tender she almost forgot he was drunk. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He flashed a smile that made her melt. "Because you're really beautiful, Lydia."

She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and looked away, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "Jordan…you don't know what you're saying. You won't remember any of this in the morning."

"Well, I'll still think it then. I probably won't say it though. I'm not good at talking about my feelings."

Lydia had to giggle at that. "I dunno. You're doing pretty good right now."

"I am, aren't I?" he smiled proudly.

Suddenly he started to frown and Lydia looked at him in concern. "What's wrong?"

"I'm really hot," he said, struggling to remove his leather jacket.

"Oh okay," Lydia started as she stood up. "I'll fetch you some ice for the water."

When she reentered the room she nearly dropped the cup of ice at the sight before her. Jordan was sitting on the couch wearing nothing but his form-fitting black boxers. He had even managed to remove his socks.

Lydia sat down next to him and handed him the cup of ice. "Jordan, what are you doing? You can't just take off all your clothes!"

"I was hot," he said innocently and leaned forward to set the ice on the table.

"I know, but that's still no excuse," she said, more gently this time.

The look in his eyes when he turned to face her was so sincere it broke her heart. She leaned closer and touched his face, massaging his cheek with her thumb. Lydia noticed him leaning closer and she couldn't help but do the closed her eyes at the sudden touch of Jordan's lips being pressed against hers. The kiss was so emotional and passionate she immediately began to kiss him back.

He quickly deepened the kiss and moved his hands across her shoulders and down her arms, resting at last on her waist. She intertwined her fingers with his hair and kissed him harder as he pulled her onto his lap so she was straddling him. His lips left hers and she felt them relocate to her jawline, placing soft kisses along her face until he got to her ear.

He kissed her earlobe, then down her neck. She pulled his face closer to her neck so he could kiss her harder. Next thing she knew they were lying down; she was on top and Jordan was pulling at the hem off her shirt, trying to expose more of her skin. The sudden feel of so much of his exposed skin touching her made her pull back.

She sat upright on the couch once more. "No – no we need to stop." Lydia shook her head. "It's not right. You're still drunk."

Jordan reached out and touched her face. "Lydia – "

She pushed his hand away and stood up. "No, Jordan. Come on, I'm going to drive you home."

Grabbing her keys from by the door, she had her back to him. She could hear him sitting up on the couch and sighing. Then, he muttered something under his breath, but it was still loud enough for her to hear. "I don't wanna go home."

Lydia let out a deep breath and gripped her keys hard in her hand.

I don't want you to either. God why do you have to be drunk?