More Than Friends (Friends, #2)(2)

“What are you up to right now?” I ask, hoping to change the subject.

He smiles. Reaches out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. I feel that innocent touch all the way down to my toes, which are currently curling in my battered white Converse. “I want to take you out.”

My mouth drops open. “In public?”

The frown is back. It’s not fair, how attractive he still is despite the scowl he’s currently wearing. “Of course in public. What the hell, Mandy.”

I shrug, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “We haven’t actually been seen together.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me in close. My body immediately goes hot and I wonder if he has some sort of powerful force field I can’t resist. “I want to change that.”

My gaze meets his and I can’t look away. He’s so sincere. So serious. “What happened between us last night was…”

“Real.” He kisses me again. Another brief brush of lips on lips, yet I’m decimated. Shaky all over when he pulls away. When my ex Thad kissed me, I never felt like this. Ever.

Never.

Ever.

Never.

“Maybe we were just caught up in a moment?” I ask tentatively. It’s like I’m always waiting for the bomb to drop. For the joke to be on me. No one in a million years would ever match me with Jordan Tuttle. Not even me. So what’s his deal? Why is he so persistent? I don’t get it.

I like it, but he also scares me. I don’t want to get hurt.

I don’t want my heart to be broken.

“Every time I’m near you, I get caught up in a moment.” One side of his perfect mouth tips up in this semi-smile that is absolutely adorable. I wish I had my phone out so I could snap a pic of him. “Maybe we need to give this a try and see if all we ever experience together is one giant moment.”

“That’s impossible.” The words are out before I can stop them and I slap my hand over my mouth, my eyes wide as I stare up at him.

Jordan actually laughs, shaking his head. It’s a rare sound, but wow, is it amazing. “Nothing’s impossible if you want it bad enough.”

I drop my hand, gaping up at him. “So are you saying that you want—me?”

“Yes.” He dips his head, his mouth hovering above mine. “I do.”





He takes me to a coffee shop that’s tucked into a corner of a strip mall, an elegantly trendy place that looks totally out of place considering its location. He’s not the only one who’s heard of the place, though. It’s so crowded I practically have to fight someone to snag a suddenly empty table.

“Your mocha.” Jordan sets it on the table and drops into the chair across from me, scooting it in so his knees bump against mine.

“Thank you.” I turn my legs to the side, not necessarily wanting to touch his legs. Then again, I sort of want to tangle them up together. Preferably with no clothes on.

My cheeks go hot, betraying my thoughts, and the slow smile that curves Tuttle’s perfect lips tells me he has suspicions.

“We could go back to my house if you want,” he suggests in that velvety smooth voice of his. I swear it ripples across my skin and settles into my bones, staying there. Reminding me that he exists.

Like I could forget.

“No way.” I shake my head quickly, bringing the cup to my lips and taking a careful sip. It’s not too hot. In fact, it’s perfect, much like the guy who’s sitting with me, and I sort of hate this stupid mocha for its perfection.

But I can’t hate my drink for too long because it tastes so good.

“Why not?” He reaches across the table, his fingers dancing across the top of my hand for the briefest moment. “No one’s home.”

That’s the problem. I don’t do well in Tuttle’s presence, especially when we’re alone. I tend to become careless. Reckless. I do things that I would never do otherwise. That sort of behavior is completely unlikely me.

And dangerous to my well-being.

“I have to be home by dinnertime.” I sit up straighter, my fingers clutched around the smooth, hot paper cup that holds my coffee. “No matter what, I can’t escape our Sunday family dinner.”

A dark brow rises. “You have dinner with your family every Sunday?”

I nod, a little embarrassed. “It’s the only time we’re together, you know? There’s always something going on. Soccer practice, volleyball practice, band—” I clamp my lips shut for a brief moment, mentally crossing band practice off the list. It’s hard to break the habit when you’ve been going to band practice for the last five years of your life. “Either my mom is working or Dad’s working, and Sunday evening is the only time we’re all under the same roof.”

He stares at me like I’m a rare, exotic animal that he’s only noticing for the first time. Wonder, confusion, maybe even the faintest hint of disgust crosses his face. Like he can’t believe that we’d be such a close family. Is family time a foreign concept to him?

I wouldn’t doubt it.

“Sounds like something out of a movie,” he mutters with a shake of his head before he takes a long drink from his cup.

“My family is close.” I shrug, not willing to offer up any more explanation. He doesn’t reveal too much to me any more, so why should I open up to him? “We’re weird, I know.”