All Chapters of My Husband's Best Friend Is Obsessed With Me : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

JORDAN My brain freezes. I can’t possibly be considering telling Nadia my name. Not my real name. What we’re doing is already complicated enough, and if she finds out I’m that Jordan—the one she quietly combed half the city for—she might never forgive me. I should’ve been smart enough to prepare for this. To plan the lie. To decide what version of myself I’d offer if she ever asked. But the truth is, I got caught up in her mouth, her laugh, the way she looks at me like she sees something I don’t. I forgot to think. I forgot to protect myself. Forgot to have a damn plan. “I’ve pictured you with a lot of names,” she murmurs, her voice warm against my chest, “but none of them fit. You’re… different.” My breath hitches when she lifts my shirt and presses her lips to my nipple—soft, sensual, completely disarming. I didn’t know that part of me could feel that. A rush of heat shoots through me, electric and dizzying, and I’m suddenly vibrating with desire. To stay grounded, I clear my th

JORDANSharon zips her bag, straightens, and looks at Cole before shifting her curious gaze to me. “What’s the plan?”She leans back against my office desk, hips pressed to the edge, arms folded tightly across her chest.“You’ve gotten him clothes and everything he needs. I think you need to let me take it from here,” I pin my gaze on her face. “Without you butting in.”“I can’t help it. He looks so lost, Jordan. He keeps glancing around like he’s expecting something or someone to jump his bones.”“That’s expected. He’s been through a lot.”“You know that… how?” She shoots me an accusing glare. “You bailed on us at Cielo, and you were unreachable the next day until after midnight.”“I was busy.”She narrows her eyes, studying my face. “I know you’re single, so you definitely weren’t out spending time with some woman. And Felix was at Elf’s with his wife. My husband saw them having dinner with some gray-haired man.”Raul.I’d looked him up the second I realized who Nadia was meeting. A

JORDANFacts have confirmed that Eli was right about the Mafia coming for me. They probably think that taking me out will give them access to Russo—let them do whatever the hell they want with him.The print staring back at me is a perfect match to one of the men I’ve suspected for a while. They were in my car last night, and the only reason they got access at all was because I left it unattended when I stepped out for a walk.Felix has been on my neck—dinner invitations, endless calls, begging me to meet his wife. He thinks my presence might somehow fix his marriage. In his words, she’s been eager to meet me, and seeing me might “loosen her up a bit.”I had to take a long walk to clear my head and think things through. Because I have a sickening feeling that if I meet Nadia officially—as her husband’s best friend—I’ll never get the chance to be with her again.Nadia might deny it all she wants, but a part of her still clings to that marriage. A part of her still belongs to him. And t

NADIAWhen I walk into the shelter’s dining hall, Laura is already laying out food, chatting animatedly with the matron. The moment she spots me, she hands the tray to the older woman and touches her shoulder gently. “My sister is here,” she says with a warm smile. Then she hurries over and wraps her arms around my neck. “I’m so sorry about the way I went off on you earlier, Nadia.”I cup her face and kiss her forehead. “It’s fine. You were right. And I appreciate you always keeping me in check.”She nods, grabs my hand, and pulls me toward the long table in the center of the room. “Come and see what I did with the dessert!” she says, practically glowing with childlike excitement.Laughing, I follow her—until I reach the table and stop short.It’s beautiful. Cookies shaped like dogs and other animals are arranged neatly on the trays. I pick one up, but instead of eating it, I trace its edges with my finger.“What does it remind you of?” she asks softly, resting her head lightly on my

JORDANThe night settles over Boston the way a held breath finally releases—quiet, warm, and unhurried. By the time we step out of the bar, it’s just past seven, the sky deepening into navy, streetlights flickering on one by one.We decide to explore the city on foot.No plan. No destination. Just walking.We pass through the Common first. The grass is darker now, dotted with people stretched out on blankets, couples talking low, laughter drifting through the air. Nadia slows, taking it all in. She smiles—not the guarded one she wears when she’s thinking too much, but something softer. Something lighter.“I like it here,” she says. “It feels… lived in.”We talk as we walk. About music. About places we’ve been and the ones we still want to see. She tells me what Boston makes her feel—how the old buildings comfort her, how the city feels steady without being suffocating. I listen more than I speak. Watching her react to everything feels more important.We stop by the water. The Charles