He stormed past the waiter who offered him a sympathetic half-smile, yanked open the door to his car with too much force, shoved his fist back into his esophagus to try and alleviate pain, and tore out of the parking lot with a squeal of tire.
* * * *
Ian reached for the apartment door as it was opened. Shocked eyes found his own, a blush rose on Jordan’s face, and Jordan nudged Cole closer. Two bags hung over Jordan’s shoulder and Cole dragged another one behind him.
With a step forward, Ian forced the group of them back. He shut the door. “Were you going somewhere?”
“N-no,” Jordan stammered. “Just had to do some laundry.”
Ian smiled. “Seems like a lot of laundry for the two of you. Were you doing everything?”
Jordan shrugged and Ian reached for Cole’s sleeve, ignoring the look of apprehension that flashed over Jordan’s face. “How’d it go at the school?”
“Cole wasn’t feeling well this morning,” Jordan said quickly. “We’re going to go tomorrow.”