More than Friends - Monica Murphy (22 page)

“Do you want something more to eat?” the mother asks me, a concerned look on her face. I could tell she didn’t like me at first. She was sizing me up, examining me closely. I can’t blame her. She should kick me out and tell me to stay the hell away from her daughter. After what Amanda and I did…

Yeah. We didn’t take it too far last night. But I did have my hands up Amanda’s shirt when we made out in the back seat of my Rover. I tried to take her back to my house, but she wouldn’t do it. So we parked. Like we didn’t have a choice.

That’s okay, though. I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy. See her smile. Kiss her lips. Touch her body—

“Jordan?” the mother asks me again, and I snap out of my dirty thoughts, smiling at her.

“No thanks.” She made a pot roast and potatoes and vegetables that she cooked all in one pot—along with the roast. I’ve never had anything like it before and it was good. “I’m stuffed.”

“Not too stuffed that you’ll have to turn away dessert, I hope.”

I’m intrigued. “Dessert?”

Mrs. Winters smiles. “Homemade cheesecake.”

“It is the best cheesecake you’ll ever have,” Mr. Winters adds.

“It’s really good,” Amanda says with a shy smile.

My whole body goes tight at seeing that smile. She makes me fucking crazy with her sweet smiles and bashful ways tonight. I can’t wait to get her alone and kiss her until she’s begging me to touch her. She did that last night. Begged. Whispered in my ear, pleading with me to put my hands on her. Slip my fingers under her shirt and touch her. Just a little bit, though. Never too much, yet I push every time we’re together. Push a little harder. Push a little more.

“Amanda, will you help me clear the table?” Mrs. Winters says as she starts to stand.

But I stand instead, my gaze locked on Amanda’s. “I’ll help her clean up, Mrs. Winters.”

“Oh, but you’re our guest—”

“I insist,” I say firmly, softening my tone with a smile aimed right at Amanda’s mom.

She smiles back, looking pleased. “Well then. If you insist…”

Amanda doesn’t say a word. Just sends me a cute little smirk as she starts to help me clear the table. I follow her cues since I’ve never cleaned up a table before in my entire life, and we walk into the kitchen, setting the dishes on the counter next to the sink.

“You’re going to help me wash them too?” She flashes a smile at me over her shoulder.

“Whatever you need,” I say easily, fighting the urge to grab her and push her hair away from her nape so I can kiss her neck. My gaze drops to all the exposed skin of her lower back and my fingers literally itch to touch her.

The moment she sets her dishes on the counter, I’m on her. I rest my hands on her back, sliding them to her waist, and I grip her there, standing directly behind her, my nose buried in her fragrant hair.

“Jordan…”

“Give me a minute,” I murmur. “I need to touch you.”

She goes still. I swear she’s not even breathing. But then I reach up and brush her hair away from her nape, just like I envisioned and she gasps softly. Her thick, dark hair drapes over her shoulder, exposing her neck, and I lean in, pressing my mouth just below her ear.

A shuddery breath leaves her and she melts into me, turning her head more to the right. “You should stop,” she says shakily. “What if my parents catch us?”

“One more kiss.” I slide my hands along her waist, kissing her neck, her ear, tasting her skin.

“Okay.” She sounds breathless. “But hurry.”

I kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear, “You wore this sweater to drive me crazy, didn’t you?”

“I almost wore a dress.”

“A dress?” I think of all the things I could do to Amanda if she wore a dress. “I like easy access.”

“Stop.” She pulls out of my grip and turns to face me with a stern look on her face. “Now you’re trying to drive me crazy.”

I grin. I can’t help myself. That’s what she does to me. She makes me smile too much. Like I have a problem or something. “We should go clear the rest of the table.”

She sends me a look. One that tells me she’s going to ask a question. “I was wondering. Have you ever helped clear a table before, Jordan?”

I slowly shake my head.

Her eyes fill with surprise, but she recovers quickly. “What about washing dishes? Have you ever done that?”

Again, another slow shake of my head.

“Seriously?” Her voice squeaks. “Well, I’m going to teach you.”

I frown. “What about the cheesecake?”

Amanda laughs and it’s the best sound. I don’t need alcohol or weed or whatever when I have her around to fill me up with her laughter. “We’ll finish gathering the dirty dishes and then we’ll have cheesecake. After cheesecake, we’ll wash the dishes. Deal?”

I pull her into my arms and give her a quick kiss, wishing I could give her more. “Deal.”

“H
e came over to your house for dinner?” Livvy sounds shocked. Not that I can blame her.

I’m still fairly shocked too. I’d been so nervous yesterday, but the moment Jordan showed up with flowers for my mom and I saw how naturally he talked to my dad like they were old friends, I couldn’t believe how easy the night became.

Jordan enjoyed the meal—Mom was super nervous about that—he laughed when my brother told him stupid jokes and he gave Dad the scoop about the football team and what their chances are to go all the way to the state championship.

I loved watching them talk about football. I got my love for the game from Dad, who has been a Raiders fanatic forever. They’re not the best team, but Dad doesn’t care. He’s loyal to a fault, and while George never showed much interest in football and Trent gave up playing league football last year, I’m the one who’ll sit with Dad and watch the games. Listen to him rattle off stats and explain what’s happening and why certain players make certain plays.

“You two are getting serious,” Livvy says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

We’re hanging out in her mom’s car in the senior lot before the first bell rings. It’s drizzling outside and windy. We don’t want to get out of the car and Liv has texted Ryan multiple times, asking if he’d meet us with an umbrella in the next five minutes.

So far, no response.

“I guess so.” I don’t want to say anything more for fear I might jinx myself—and us. And when I say us, I mean me and Jordan.

“What did your parents think? About Tuttle?”

“They liked him a lot. He brought my mom flowers.” A beautiful arrangement of fall flowers, including sunflowers, which are my favorite. I was jealous of that stupid bouquet too. He hasn’t brought me flowers, yet he gave some to my mom?

Life isn’t fair sometimes.

“Wow, slick. He’s good with parents then. No surprise.” Livvy whistles, making me laugh. “I’m serious! The most Ryan has brought my mom is trouble.” We start laughing even more.

“Your mom doesn’t like Ryan?” I already know the answer. Liv’s mom wasn’t thrilled she spent the night at Ryan’s house for his birthday party, so he has a mark against him. And that’s a pretty big mark.

“She’s getting better. Fitch seems to like him.” Liv makes a face. Fitch is the guy her mom is dating. Liv hates him, says he gives her the creeps. I’ve been around him a couple of times, and I have to agree.

“Did Ryan ever get back to you about the umbrella or whatever?” I glance out the window. The rain is now coming down hard, and the parking lot always fills up with major puddles when a good rain comes through. I’m going to get soaked and look terrible for the entire day if I have to walk outside even a few feet without an umbrella. And the main building is more than a few feet away from my car.

Grabbing my phone, I send off a quick text to Jordan.

Rescue me from the rain and I’ll be yours forever.

I get an immediate reply.

Was that a line from a Juliet entry or what? Very poetic. :)

He actually sent me a smiley face.

No. I’m being serious. Rescue us from Liv’s mom’s car. It’s raining so hard and I don’t want to walk in it. Neither does Liv. We’re in a newer silver Accord.

You want me to come to your rescue.

Yes.

And you’ll be mine forever if I do.

I chew on my thumbnail before I answer him.

Yes.

So I can do whatever I want to you and you have to agree.

My skin goes warm. What kind of question is that?

Depends on what you’re talking about.

You won’t be disappointed. Promise.

Within seconds I hear tires screeching and there’s Jordan parking right alongside Livvy’s car.

Get your stuff and get in my car. Tell Livvy to stay put.

“Jordan is giving us a ride to the front building,” I say to Livvy.

She turns to look at me with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s right there.” I indicate his parked car with a wave of my hand. “I’m going to jump in his car but stay put. He’ll drive around to your side of the car in a minute.”

I grab my backpack and bail out of the car, hopping into the passenger side of the Range Rover within seconds and only the tiniest bit damp. He smiles at me, leans over to give me a little kiss, then throws the car into drive and wheels it around to the driver’s side of Liv’s mom’s car. Livvy goes through the same process, and after she climbs into the Rover, Jordan takes her keys and hits the remote to lock it before rolling up his window.

“You’re my hero!” Liv says from the backseat of the car. She reaches forward and gives Jordan a playful shove on the shoulder. “Better than Ryan. He hasn’t even bothered to text me back.”

“You’re welcome,” Jordan says with a hint of sarcasm, which makes me smile. He returns the gesture with one of those secretive smiles only for me, the ones that say,
I’ve had you nearly naked in my bed and I’m going to do it again
.

A shiver moves through me at the possibility.

He drives the Range Rover to the front of the main building and Liv hops out the moment he puts the car in park, not even bothering to look back or ask me to come with her. We watch her go and then I turn to look at Jordan, ready to offer him a thank you.

But he’s watching me with the most intense look in his gaze. All thoughts, all words, disappear in an instant.

“I did what you asked of me,” he says softly. “I came to your rescue and now you’re mine.” He pauses. “Forever.”

Oh. That’s right. I forgot I said that. Sort of.

“I was just kidding.”

“I take all requests from you seriously.” He waves a hand toward the building before us. “Like rescuing you from the rain.”

“I still need to go back out in it to get in the building.” I glance behind me, checking out the backseat. This of course, reminds me that a few nights ago, I’d been rolling around in that very backseat and it had been awesome.

“Want my hoodie?” He starts to take his off and I grab his arm to prevent him from taking it any further.

“No, stop. It’s okay. I have my own.” I’m dressed pretty sloppily today, with the weather spurring my choices. I have on a school hoodie, leggings and a pair of shiny black designer rain boots I found on clearance at the Nordstrom Rack this past spring. I put zero effort into my outfit, yet here I sit with Jordan in his fancy car and he’s wearing fancy clothes and fancy cologne he most likely bought at a high-end department store. A place I probably can’t even afford to walk into, let alone actually buy something.