You Promised Me Forever (Forever Yours #1)(8)

After I sweep it up, cursing under my breath the entire time, I sit at my extremely small kitchen counter, take a bite out of my bagel, sip from my cup of coffee, and realize I am totally stalling on checking my phone, which is still sitting on my nightstand.

I dash back to the end table to get it.

And holy shit, he answered me.

Are you doing well, Mandy?

I wish he wouldn’t call me that. And I wish he wouldn’t ask loaded questions either, though I’m sure he doesn’t see it that way. I’m the one who’s being ridiculous. I’m the one who’s reading too much into this.

I’m great, I tell him after I eat half my bagel. Really busy with work.

What do you do?

I’m an assistant physical therapist at a place that specializes in sports medicine.

You’re here in the Bay Area, right? Where exactly do you work?

I chew on my lower lip, wondering if I should answer him. Why does he care?

Screw it.

Atlas Wellness Center.

He doesn’t answer me right away, so I finish the rest of my bagel and down the coffee, though I need no caffeine. I feel jittery enough. When he finally responds I can’t read it fast enough.

I know exactly where that’s at.

Of course he does.

We’ve had some professional athletes as patients, I tell him.

I hope you never see me in there. Jordan follows it with a winking face emoji.

He’s making a joke, something Jordan Tuttle doesn’t do very often. Yet I take it wrong. It feels like he’s trying to tell me he hopes he never sees me again, which is totally ridiculous. I’m reading too much into his response, I’m overthinking this entire situation.

I need to chill.

We start talking about the Inside Football episode, and he’s very modest, not making a big deal about it. I tell him Dustin feels famous because of the class photo they showed and he says Dustin should hit him up on IG. I say yeah, sure, but no way am I telling Livvy I had this conversation with Jordan. Not yet.

Not sure why, but I want to keep this secret all to myself.

It’s weird, but we chat off and on all day. While I do laundry, he sends me a DM. I send him one back and a few minutes or even an hour later, I receive a response. We talk about everything else but the fact that we broke up. We play catch up about people and places, talking like old friends, which I suppose we are.

But it’s finally near six and I still need to take a shower and curl my hair. Cade is picking me up at seven for our date and I haven’t even really picked out an outfit yet. As fun as this stroll down memory lane is, I need to get on it. Focus on the guy who’s interested in me now, not on the one from my past.

I’m afraid I have to go. It’s been nice talking to you.

I’m in the bathroom, shedding my clothes, the shower running when Jordan immediately replies. Hot date on a Saturday night?

Livvy would encourage me to say hell yes, motherfucker since that’s her style. But is that rude? Is that me rubbing it in his face?

No. it’s the truth.

Yeah.

That’s all I say. I jump in the shower before I say something I regret and I hurriedly run through my usual ritual. I don’t bother shaving my legs because hello, I’m not moving that fast with Cade. There will be no bare leg touching tonight. I don’t wash my hair because it curls better when it’s a little dirtier, and I’ve shut off the water and barely wrapped the towel around myself when I’m already checking my phone for a response.

Who’s the lucky guy? Got someone steady in your life?

My damp skin prickles at his words. For some reason, it feels like he spent a lot of time laboring over those two sentences. Should I be honest? Or make up some elaborate story about my hot sexy boyfriend who keeps me well satisfied in bed every night?

I’m not a liar, though. So I tell him the truth.

It’s a first date with a guy I work with.

He doesn’t respond for so long, I’m dry, lotioned up, and halfway dressed with my makeup done and my hair partially curled by the time I receive a reply.

Have fun.

My smile is smug at his words and my stomach bottoms out, but damn it, I will have fun.

Even if it kills me.





Did I expect Amanda to reach out to me after the Inside Football interview?

If I’m being completely honest with myself, that’s a yes.

What I didn’t expect was the swarm of conflicting emotions that overwhelmed me while I chatted with her over social media throughout the day. In the beginning, I didn’t know what to say. Should I be polite? Distant? Treat her like an old friend? An old lover?

She was all of those things to me. Friend. Lover. At one point, she was the most important person in my life—and then she ended it. When she reached out last night, I thought I wanted to stick it to her. Remind her of what she could’ve had, but lost. When she broke up with me all those years ago, I’d been crushed.

Then I got pissed.

Fuck her, I thought more than once.

But as time went by, I realized what I did to her. What I did to every woman who tried to come into my life since her. I didn’t have time for any of them. Worse, I didn’t have time for Amanda—the supposed most important person in my life. College consumed me. Football consumed me. So many things were happening and I let them take me away from her.