More Than Friends (Friends, #2)(30)

I’m also breathless. How does he do that?

Em clearing her throat breaks me free of the trance Jordan just lulled me into. “Guys, I feel like I’m interrupting something, so I’m out. Good luck on tonight’s game, Tuttle. I’m sure you’ll kill ’em.” She flees before we can say anything else.

“You’re friends with her?” he asks once Em’s gone.

“Sort of.” I don’t know how to explain my relationship with Em, so I don’t.

“Her and Livvy were best friends.”

“I know. But now they’re having…trouble.” I wrinkle my nose. No need to go into the details. I think Jordan knows a few of them anyway.

“And you’re wanting to help them out?” He whistles low. “You’re a good friend.”

I laugh softly. “Probably too good of a friend. I’ve let too many people take advantage of me.”

“Like who?”

“Like Tara.” When he frowns I remind him, “My former best friend. The one who was…”

“Screwing your boyfriend at my house? Yeah. She sucks.”

“So does he.”

“Nah, he’s just an idiot.”

“What do you mean?”

“Letting a girl like you go? He didn’t know how good he had it.” He tilts his head to the side, contemplating me while I digest what he just said. Yet again, he renders me silent. “You never did send me your diary entry.”

“For Juliet?” I wrote it late last night, when I couldn’t sleep. Might’ve poured my heart into it too, reliving the hug in the parking lot moment over and over, like I’m twelve.

“Yeah. Where is it?”

“I’ll show you in class.”

“I want to see it now.”

“No, in class.” He grabs my waist, holding me in place, and I look up at him, surprised to see the amusement in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for any excuse to touch you?” He raises his brows and I blush. My cheeks go warm and he squeezes me, his thumbs sneaking under the hem of my T-shirt to touch my bare skin. “For once, you’re not fighting me.”

“Jordan.” My voice is a warning, but I don’t want him to stop. “Public displays of affection are strictly prohibited on campus grounds.”

I sound like I’m reciting from the school code handbook.

“Not like I’m trying to kiss you.” His gaze drops to my lips, and it actually feels like he did just kiss me. “I’ll save that for later.”

Um. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see.” The bell rings and he curves one arm around my waist, guiding me so I’m walking beside him and into the building. “Need to go to your locker?”

I nod, dumbfounded that we’re walking down the hall and Jordan has his arm around me. Like we’re a bona fide couple. Meaning I’m having a surreal moment. He doesn’t do this sort of thing. He never has. So I don’t get why all of a sudden he’s choosing me.

Jordan stops directly in front of my locker and leans against the one next to mine, waiting for me as I fumble with the lock. It takes me three tries before I can get it open, and once I do, he’s right there, offering to hold my backpack, asking if I have everything I need before he shuts the locker door for me.

“You need to go to yours?” I ask as he slings my backpack over his shoulder. I walk beside him, trying my best to ignore the stares, the whispers that grow into low murmurs, a few snippets of conversation caught as we pass people by.

“Who is she?”

“Why is Tuttle walking with her?”

“Are they—together?”

But the worst moment is when I glance up to find Lauren Mancini headed straight for us, the scowl on her face right out of my nightmares. She looks furious, her eyes going from Jordan to me back to Jordan again. I watch as she switches it on, that beaming, perky cheerleader smile aimed right at him.

“Jordan! Ready for tonight’s game?” She stops directly in front of him but he dodges her, grabbing my hand and pulling me along with him.

“Yeah,” he says, not even looking in her direction. He laces our fingers together, giving mine a squeeze, and I just want to die on the spot.

Somehow I keep moving, keep walking straight like a normal person, though deep inside I’m warm and fuzzy and tempted to launch myself at him.

“I’ll see you tonight!” Lauren shrieks from behind us, but he doesn’t even give her a second glance. Instead he looks at me with an intimate smile, like we share this big secret.

It’s my most favorite Jordan Tuttle smile ever.

By the time we walk into the classroom, the bell is ringing. I let go of his hand and scramble for my seat. Jordan ambles over to his like he has all the time in the world, and I turn around to watch him, letting all of my inhibitions go. Not caring what anyone else thinks.

We just walked down the hall together. First with his arm around me, then holding hands. I can look at him all I want.

“Let’s not waste any time,” Mrs. Meyer says after she takes attendance. “Get with your group partner and work on your projects, please. You should at least have one diary entry each, maybe even two.”

I immediately feel behind. Panicked. The guy who sits next to me moves out of his desk to go join his partner and Jordan is there, easing into the desk and scooting it toward me. We’re so close our arms practically touch.