Just Friends

  “Wasn’t she with Tuttle just before school started?” Ryan asks.

  Cannon makes a dismissive noise. “I guess. I don’t know. She’s like the team mascot, if you catch my drift. Knows how to keep her mouth shut, too, which is why we keep her around. If you ever…” His voice drifts as his gaze meets mine and he clamps his lips together.

  I’m glaring at him. I know what he was about to say. And Cannon is an idiot to say it in front of me.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’m good.” Ryan places his hand on my thigh and gives it a squeeze before he releases me.

  I say nothing, though my skin goes hot where he touched me. Should I be insulted? Probably. Yet for some weird reason, I’m not. Maybe it’s the weed. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m with a hot guy who makes me tingle with just a glance, and I have no idea what that’s like, being with someone so incredibly popular yet also mysterious. No one really knows anything about Ryan.

  Maybe I could be the first person to really get to know him.

  Or maybe Em was the one he confessed all of his deep, dark secrets to.

  Frowning, I push all thoughts of Em out of my mind. I hate how she always creeps up on me when I’m with Ryan. It’s probably guilt, though I shouldn’t feel guilty for being with Ryan. They were never really together in the first place.

  Cannon and Ryan perform one of those complicated handshakes boys always do and then he’s gone, headed back to his little blonde fairy so they can cuddle on his truck’s tailgate and she can spoon-feed him ice cream.

  No joke.

  “I didn’t know you were friends with Cannon,” I say once he’s gone. He’s one of those guys who struts around campus like he’s the shit.

  Well, really the entire football team does that, including Ryan.

  “Only because of football,” Ryan says with a little shrug, smiling up at the carhop girl when she suddenly appears with our order.

  The second she’s gone I’m talking again. Saying things I probably shouldn’t say.

  “You’ve barely been at school a week and you’re already making lots of friends.” I’m trying to sound casual. Like I’m not digging for information, though I really am.

  “Guys from the team, that’s it.” He smiles, slow and sexy. “Oh, and you.” His gaze drops to my lips.

  They’re tingling like he actually touched them. And now I’m giggling, my cheeks warm, as usual. I hate that I blush so easily. “You’re such a flirt.” I gently shove at his shoulder, but it’s like trying to push a boulder.

  “You love it,” he says, his voice dripping with confidence as he snatches my wrist and drops a quick kiss on my hand before dropping it. I can’t react, since he did it so fast.

  But he acts like it’s no big deal. Instead, he’s leaning forward and messing with the sound system settings before music starts to play. “You like rap?” He turns to look at me.

  Not really, but I nod eagerly just to see him send me that pleased smile yet again.

  “This is my favorite song,” he says as he sinks into the black leather seat, his fingers tapping on his knee to the heavy bass beat.

  “Um, so how’s practice going?” I ask after too many minutes of silence between us. I didn’t want to interrupt his favorite song, but I also don’t want him to think I’m boring or that I have nothing to say.

  “It’s good. We’re looking all right. The team I was on at my old school was better. Hate to say it.” He grimaces and lowers the stereo volume with a button on the steering wheel. “But we’ll catch our rhythm eventually. Get better.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “And it’s hot as hell here, so that kind of sucks. Makes practicing after school miserable. I’m not used to the California heat.” He traces the steering wheel with his index finger and I become fixated on that finger, imagining it’s actually touching me. “Thank God we have a pool.”

  “I’m sure it’s much cooler in Washington,” I say.

  “Definitely.” Ryan runs a hand through his hair, messing it up adorably. Boys and messy hair—they just get me every time.

  “Do you miss Washington?” I ask.

  “Yeah, sometimes. I miss the weather. My old house too, because it was the only place I ever lived until now. Sometimes, change is hard, you know?”

  I do know. I’m living through massive change at this very moment.

  “But it’s good here. I like California.” He smiles softly. “You’ll come to our first game, right?”

  We were good little students with loads of school spirit the first couple of years, but Em and I gave up midway through our junior year. Football games became boring, especially when they started doing awful—with the exception of Tuttle. We barely paid attention and would rather work the social angle. Though now that I’m helping with the photos for yearbook, I’ll be going to all sorts of games. “You really want me there?”

  “Hell yeah I do. I’ll need a good-luck kiss from you to make sure we win.” He flashes me a smile and I roll my eyes, giggling when he moves in closer and makes a kissy face at me.

  The roller-skating server chooses that moment to show up by Ryan’s window. “Doing okay?” she asks, her tone flirtatious. I’ve never seen a Sonic carhop check up on customers like this before. “Need anything else?”

  I just want her gone. “I’m good,” I tell her, lifting my vanilla shake.

  Ryan shrugs and when he says nothing else, she skates away, glancing over her shoulder one last time. I sort of wish she’d run into a pole.

  I’m going to hell for my jealous thoughts, I swear.

  “We should’ve ordered food,” he says as he stirs his spoon in his chocolate shake.

  “Do you want to call her back?” I hope he says no.

  “Nah. I’m fine.” He grabs the cherry that sits on a cloud of whipped cream in his cup and pops it into his mouth. “Can I have your cherry?” he asks after he swallows.

  Um. Well, that could be taken a different way. Cheeks hot, I nod. “Sure.”

  Ryan shifts so he’s sitting closer, his face practically in mine. “Feed it to me,” he says.

  With shaky fingers I pluck the cherry from the top of my shake and hold it out toward Ryan. His mouth opens and I set it between his lips, tugging the stem off before he starts to chew. “Mmm, delicious,” he murmurs once he swallows.

  I look away from him and take a few sips of my milkshake, savoring the icy cold deliciousness. I hear Ryan shift in his seat and I glance over at him, my lips still wrapped around the red straw.

  He sends me a pointed look, his eyebrows raised. “So vanilla, huh? Do you consider yourself pretty vanilla?”

  I let go of the straw, tilting my head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  He stirs the long-handled spoon in his cup before pulling it out and licking the chocolate ice cream slowly. My body goes warm at seeing his tongue and I squirm in my seat, waiting for his answer. “Never mind,” he says after a few licks of ice cream. “I think I have my answer.”

  He chuckles. I giggle. Again. We quietly half-eat, half-drink our milkshakes, and I chance the occasional glance at him, taking in everything that makes up Ryan. The navy blue T-shirt he’s wearing and how it stretches across his shoulders and chest. His arms are like masculine works of art and his fingers are long. Memories rush over me, the night at Em’s house, when he slipped those long fingers beneath my bikini top.

  I wonder if he’ll touch me like that again. I wonder if he’ll do it tonight.

  If he tries, I’ll let him. I won’t push him away. I’ll want more.

  “I like the braids.” He tugs on one and our gazes meet. “Cute.”

  “I didn’t want to blow dry my hair,” I say with a shrug. His gaze is intense as he watches me, curling the end of one braid around his finger again and again, pulling me closer and closer to him. Until we’re so close our breath mingles together and I can see those little flecks of gold in his green eyes.

  “So you’re lazy,” he teases, his eyes sparkling as t
hey search my face, settling once again on my mouth. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “I—” I’m about to defend myself when an ear-splitting horn honks, startling us both. We jump away from each other, my back brushing against the passenger-side door, and I glance out the windshield to see Cannon’s truck idling in front of Ryan’s car.

  “See ya later, Bennett!” Cannon yells before he hits the gas and tears out of the parking lot.

  “Is that your last name?” I ask him. “Bennett?”

  Ryan laughs. “Well, yeah. You didn’t know? I thought you knew everything about me.”

  “Definitely not everything,” I mumble, setting my near-empty milkshake into the center console cup holder.

  Not even close. The guy doesn’t talk much. We flirt. We say stupid things to each other. I swear he was about to kiss me before we were so rudely interrupted by Cannon.

  “Wanna go to the carwash?” he asks, knocking me from my thoughts.

  “Right now?” I send him a questioning look.

  “I like to keep my baby clean.” Ryan strokes his hand across the sleek dashboard almost lovingly. “I go to this one that’s open late on Saturday.” He pitches his cup into the nearby trashcan and closes his window before starting the car. “Ready?”

  I nod, and then we’re speeding out of Sonic so fast the tires squeal when he turns onto the street. Ryan hits a button and a panel above our head slides back, revealing a sunroof. I glance up at it in wonder, a little sigh escaping me as he hits another button and the tinted glass opens up, letting in a rush of warm night air.

  My braids are flying in the breeze, and when Ryan accelerates harder, I lean back and laugh. My head is fuzzy from the joint we smoked earlier and I’m buzzing. Happy. I close my eyes and savor the sensation of the wind rushing over me, Ryan’s scent, the soft sensation of the leather seat cradling my body. Ryan touches me, his fingers burning the skin of my thigh, and I shift under his touch, spreading my legs a little bit.

  He takes the unsaid invitation seriously, sliding his fingers between my legs, so close to that low point where I throb for him, and I suck in a gasping breath. I keep my eyes closed, sink my teeth into my lower lip when his fingers tease the frayed hem of my denim shorts, and then I swear I feel his fingers barely brush against the front of my very plain, very boring cotton panties.

  I can’t look at him. I can’t watch what he’s doing but oh, I can feel it, and his fingers feel…

  So. Good.

  Ryan snatches his hand away unexpectedly and I’m so disappointed, so on freaking edge I almost want to yell at him. My eyes fly open and I see he’s half hanging out the driver’s side window, punching buttons on the pay machine at the car wash. He slides back into his seat and puts the car into gear, sending me a knowing smirk as he pulls the car around and lines it up properly to go through the carwash.

  “You really know how to show a girl a good time,” I tease as he hits the button and the sunroof slides closed, as do the car windows.

  “Carwash on a Saturday night, nothing better,” he says with a mischievous smile. “Reach for the button on the right side and put your seat back.”

  I frown at him. He sure is bossy, always telling me what to do. Though I never protest. “Why?”

  “Just do it. I’ll show you in a minute.”

  I do as he says and so does he after putting the car in neutral, both of us flat on our backs once the seats can go no farther. The car jerks forward onto the automatic mechanism and I stare up at the sunroof window as white bubbly soap coats it completely.

  Ryan rolls on his side, getting as close to me as possible. “Watch,” he murmurs, and I do, entranced by the water rinsing away the first layer of soap before a new, thicker layer is squirted on.

  And then he’s right there, his head blocking my view, his face in mine. I lick my lips, part them as if I’m about to say something, but he doesn’t give me a chance.

  He’s kissing me. His lips are warm and firm, and the moment they touch mine, a million butterflies flutter in my stomach, making my entire body shake. I reach for him, my hand going to the back of his head, fingers sinking into his silky soft hair as he kisses me again and again. Our mouths becoming more and more open until finally his tongue sweeps in and tangles with mine.

  Only a handful of guys have ever kissed me. And most of the kisses were quick and boring and…lacking. Completely lacking that certain something I always saw in movies or read in books.

  Dustin brought me to that point. We may have our moments and right now I’m super pissed at him, but the boy can kiss.

  Ryan kisses even better. It’s like his mouth fits perfectly with mine. His fingers gently stroke my cheek as he keeps kissing me until I’m breathless. Weightless.

  Until we suddenly stop moving.

  “Shit,” Ryan mutters as he brings his seat back up, throws the car into drive and pulls away from the carwash.

  I start to laugh as I push the button and my seat slowly rises to an upright position. My entire body is shaky and my head is spinning more from that kiss than the weed I smoked a while ago. Frustration is etched into Ryan’s handsome features, his jaw like granite and his eyes turbulent. I study him, think about actually reaching out and touching him, but I don’t.

  I curl my hands together and rest them in my lap instead.

  “I should get you home,” he tells me through clenched teeth.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost eleven.” He glances at me, though mostly keeping his attention on the road. “Wouldn’t want you to turn into a pumpkin.”

  Mom and her stupid curfew. “My mom really wanted me home by ten.”

  “You got her to change her mind?”

  “I wanted it to be midnight. But her, uh, boyfriend got her to compromise.”

  “A champion on your side?”

  “I don’t know why. I don’t like him that much.” I think back on the weird way he looked at me when he found me in my towel. How he asked to keep that encounter between us. Why? What does it matter? Not like he yanked off my towel and tried to do something skeevy with me.

  Though he might’ve…wanted to?

  A shiver moves down my spine at the realization.

  “Maybe he just wanted to get you out of the house,” Ryan suggests.

  “Yeah. Maybe,” I agree, my voice distant. I guess that could be the reason, but I don’t know why. Mom could go to Fitch’s house too, though I have no idea where he lives or if it’s even nice. He has that forever bachelor-type vibe, so maybe he lives in a shit hole.

  More like Mom doesn’t want me alone. She probably thinks I’d be up to no good.

  She’d be right.

  Within minutes we’re back at my place and he leans over to press a quick kiss on my cheek. “I had fun, babe,” he murmurs against my skin.

  My skin goes hot at him calling me babe. “I did too.”

  “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

  I nod, afraid I might say something that sounds too eager and crazy.

  “I’ll see you Monday?”

  I nod again, reaching out to open the passenger-side door. He doesn’t offer to walk me to the front door and I don’t ask him to. What’s the point? I guess he could kiss me on the front porch, but he could’ve very easily kissed me just now too.

  Yet he didn’t. I don’t take it as a bad sign, but Ryan is definitely sending me mixed signals. Kissing me in the carwash so thoroughly we forgot where we were, and now he’s practically shoving me out of his car?

  It makes no sense.

  I climb out of the car and slam the door, offering him a little wave before he drives off down the street. I remain on the sidewalk, my arms wrapped around my waist as the BMW gets smaller and smaller in the distance until it’s finally gone. I drop my arms to my sides and am about to turn to go up the walkway to my house when I catch a glimpse of movement to my right.

  “Liv!”

  My knees go weak at the sound of that familiar voi
ce. “What are you doing?” I ask irritably.

  “I live on this street too, you know. Or am I not allowed to be here?”

  “Why are you here anyway?” I ask. We may live in the same neighborhood, but Em’s house isn’t this close to mine. She has no reason to be out here at this time of night.

  Unless…

  I glance over my shoulder, spotting Dustin’s house, which is just across the street and five houses up from mine. Maybe she just came from his place. Oh God, if that’s the case, I swear I’ll lose my shit.

  Though really, I shouldn’t care. It’s not like I’m with Dustin. I just came home from a date with Ryan. I have no claims on Dustin. I have no claim on Em either.

  Em shrugs, tucks a thick lock of dark hair behind her ear and pulls a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of her black skinny jeans. She puts one in her mouth, pulls a lighter out of her other pocket and starts smoking. “Couldn’t sleep,” she says after blowing out a stream of smoke.

  “Since when did you start smoking?” I ask incredulously. Yeah, we’ve passed a lot of joints to each other over the last few years, but I’ve never seen her actually smoke before.

  She takes another drag and blows the smoke straight at me, a wicked smile on her face. “Since this summer. It was stressful not having you around, Liv.”

  Whatever. I’m not about to get into some stupid conversation with her where she blames me for abandoning her. “I should go inside. It’s late.”

  “Come on. Your mom won’t care if you’re outside talking to me.” Em’s right and she knows it. “Let’s catch up.”

  “I have nothing to catch up on with you.” I start to turn away from her, but she grabs me, her fingers tight around the crook of my arm.

  “Don’t leave, Livvy. Please.” Her voice is a hoarse whisper, and I face her once more, frowning as she drops her hand from my arm.

  “Are you okay?”

  She shakes her head, yet her smile is bright. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know,” I say carefully. “You seem…moody. And you changed your entire look. Why?”