Half way through watching Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels Jordan decided he was hungry, so he went to raid the kitchen, saving me the job of trying to find where everything was hidden. It was also a helpful reminder that I had yet to eat since at the game last night, not that it was a big deal. I generally never ate breakfast, so I was only just starting to get hungry anyway.

When he was back in only around a minute with a pile of different things, I took it to mean that he was a regular in this place. The other two had no worries about making themselves right at home either, Tyler having gotten us all fresh bottles of water as the movie was loading.

He sat next to Jordan on one couch as they discussed the plot throughout, exclaiming loudly whenever a favourite line or scene came on. That left me curled up on one end of the other sofa, head resting on the armrest while I let my sleepiness slowly fade, and who I now knew to be 'Tanger' sitting casually at the other end, one foot tucked up under his other leg as he rested his arm along the top. I'd already managed to accidentally kick him several times with my need to straighten my legs every now and then, waved off apologies flowing each time.

Ever since I was little I'd had problems with my legs, particularly my knees. If I kept them in the same position for too long my knees ceased up, a small burning pain just behind my knee caps being my signal that I needed to straighten or bend, sometimes several times over in order to get the satisfying crack that meant the acid that had been building up in the joint was now released. The actions annoyed and grossed out a lot of people, but it was a necessary part of my day, and after a few laughs about me having the wrong idea of how footsies worked the guys largely left me to my own devices.

Of course, it wasn't just my knees; I also had the same deal with my ankles, to a lesser degree my right wrist, and a bad habit of cracking my knuckles for the hell of if. The wrist cracking only started after I broke it when I was twelve, but generally there was only a small grinding that occurred while I held my hand in place and twisted my arm to get the odd source of pain relief just right. Occasionally I could have each ankle crack on each step I took, particularly if I was walking on stairs. That was a fun quirk.

"Ah, I love that movie," I proclaimed once it was over, standing up to stretch out my back.

Tackled back into my seat by Jordan, I gave him a 'what the hell' look, arching an eyebrow in question to his actions as we half landed on Tanger who'd had no chance to avoid the collision.

"I love you. Will you marry me? I know we just met and everything, but any girl who'd pick that over The Notebook is definitely worth marrying. Isn't she?" He hardly took a pause to breathe as he looked between the other two for confirmation. "Yes, yes she is. Aaand," he drew out, "Well, with those stunning legs, and your sexy caramel skin, and holy fuck! Do you have orange in your eyes?"

He finally stopped talking long enough for me to actually take in everything he'd said, though he was still lying on top of me, now intently staring into my eyes with fascination as I laughed and wrapped my legs around his waist, figuring he'd been thinking about that when he mentioned them. He was a guy after all. I could feel Tanger moving beneath me, trying to get in a position to see what the hell Jordan was talking about, while still keeping me relatively comfortable. Raking my eyes over Jordan's face that was only inches from mine I decided he was certainly worth taking the time to look closer at. Gorgeous ice blue eyes, a hint of scruff marking the start of his playoff beard, the only thing I found fault with was his cleft chin. I'd just never been a fan of them, and sadly Jordan's was no exception. After my quick appraisal I noticed Tyler was also now leaning over me, batting Jordan's hand away from trying to hold my eye open for him to get a better look.

"Wow, there is orange in there," the French accent drew my eyes up to his. "That's the coolest thing I've ever seen."

His little half grin was even hotter from upside down, but I didn't get to admire it for long, Jordan bringing my attention back to him as he ran a hand through my hair. "Oh yea, I'm definitely marrying you. As soon as we win this series we're flying out to Vegas. Elvis, the whole works."

"Uh, Jor? Do I get any say in this?" I have say I loved the way he just ran with that random idea. I was almost tempted to hold him to his plans, just to mess with him, but that'd probably end up backfiring on me. "Or are you going to make me head down to the cop shop on my first day here to get a restraining order?"

Notes

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