Frowning.

  Looking ready to tear Blake’s head off.

  Our gazes meet and I tell myself to look away, but it’s like I can’t.

  “Ready?” Jordan asks, his voice tight, his eyebrows up. He crosses his arms, his biceps bulging, and I remind myself to focus on my anger. On his anger.

  Not his sexy muscles straining against his sleeves.

  Ugh.

  “Let me get my purse,” I tell him, turning toward the doorway that leads to the back office. I spot Lauren and Eli still standing by the toppings bar, though they’ve forgotten all about the candy and are blatantly watching us. The look on Lauren’s face is nothing short of pure malice mixed with amusement. If she wasn’t holding that giant cup of frozen yogurt, she’d probably be rubbing her hands together in anticipation of spreading this particular story around school come Monday. Or even better, on social media. Instagram. Snapchat.

  We’re putting on a show for everyone to see.

  I’m trying my best to keep my shit together, but it’s difficult. I don’t say a word as we walk toward my car and neither does Amanda. All I can focus on is that moment between her and Blake from just a few seconds ago. When she hugged him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek, beaming up at him like he just made her day. Her night. Her entire year.

  Christ. I wanted to rip his hands off when they touched her. Wanted to demolish his face with my fist when she kissed his cheek. I know it was an innocent gesture. I know she wasn’t trying to provoke me.

  But it almost feels like she did all of that to drive me crazy and it fucking worked.

  I open the passenger-side door for her and she climbs into the SUV, biting out a quick, “Thank you,” right before I slam the door shut. Her lips part as we stare at each other through the window, and I’m overcome with the need to kiss her.

  Pushing the urge out of my mind, I jog around the front of the Range Rover and get in on the driver’s side. I start the car and glance over my shoulder, hooking my hand around the passenger-side headrest as I quickly back out of the parking spot. I could use the backup camera, but this gives me an excuse to possibly touch her.

  And I do. Touch her. I wrap a silky strand of dark hair around my finger, tugging on it gently just before I let it go and remove my hand from the seat. I put the SUV into drive and tear out of the parking lot, hitting the gas so hard, my tires squeal across the pavement. Amanda gasps as she reaches for the grab handle above the door.

  “Sorry,” I mutter once I turn onto the road. I barely glance in her direction, almost afraid of what I might find. Like her overwhelming disapproval. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t scare me.” She lets go of the handle and primly sets her hands in her lap. I think she’s trying for dignified, but her hair’s in a messy braid with wild strands around her face, there’s mascara smudged under her eyes and her shirt is a disaster.

  But she’s still beautiful. And her ass looked damn good in those jeans when I was walking behind her just a few minutes ago.

  We remain quiet as I continue to drive, and when I stop at a red light, I can’t stand it anymore. “You’re mad.”

  She shrugs, but otherwise remains silent.

  “Why?” What did I do wrong? If anyone is in the wrong here, it’s her. She’s the one who grabbed Blake. She’s the one who kissed him. I may have called her my girlfriend to Lauren and Eli, but we haven’t made anything official. Hell, I feel like I walk on pins and needles around her almost all the time, scared I might do something wrong that’ll send her away from me forever.

  What right do I have to be angry over her hugging and kissing Blake? Are we even officially a couple yet?

  “Because you said you wouldn’t keep things from me, but you still do. You’re exactly the same. You’ve got all of these deep, dark secrets you keep hidden away, and you’re so standoffish sometimes. If we’re supposed to start working on our relationship, Jordan, you actually have to talk to me, you know?” She exhales loudly and turns away so she’s facing the passenger-side window.

  I say nothing. Just stew over her words as I continue to drive. She doesn’t live too far from Yo Town, so we arrive at her house quick. Pulling up to the front, I notice there are no lights shining through the windows.

  “No one’s home?”

  She keeps her back to me. “My parents are out of town, picking up my brother at college,” she tells the window. “It was a last minute thing. I guess his car broke down.”

  “Your old car?” The one I said could barely run that first time I picked her up after a late shift at Yo Town.

  Guess I called that one.

  “Yeah.” Her shoulders slump a little. “They took Trent with them and they’ll be back tomorrow. Sometime in the early afternoon.”

  “So you’re staying home alone tonight.” And she never mentioned this to me before. Not even this morning when I drove her to work and everything was so good between us.

  Well, more like when I was trying to convince myself I was okay with my mother bossing me around and demanding that I come to our messed up family dinner. Instead of thinking about that bullshit, I focused on Amanda and how happy I was to see her. How good she tasted when I kissed her. How right she felt when I pulled her into my arms—

  “I’ve done it before. Stayed by myself overnight. It’s no big deal.” She finally turns to look at me, and I see a flicker of pain in her eyes, but then it’s gone. My heart feels like it’s cracking. I’m the one who put that pain there. I’m the one who hurt her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I only just found out while I was at work. And I was going to tell you, but I wanted to make it a surprise.” She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “But now you have other plans. Plans you won’t tell me about.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s just that what I’m doing isn’t going to be fun. Trust me,” I say firmly.

  “What exactly are you doing?

  “My mother demanded I come home for a family dinner.” The sarcasm is heavy on those last two words. “More like it’ll be two hours of them giving me endless shit. I don’t want to go.” I hesitate for a moment before admitting, “But I have to.”

  “Maybe…” Her voice drifts, and she clamps her lips shut. They curve into this mesmerizing little smile as I stare at them, and I’m tempted to lean over and kiss her.

  “Maybe what?” I ask when she remains quiet.

  “You should come over tonight. After your dinner.” She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, like she can’t believe she just said that and she’s trying to stop the words from leaving her. “If you want to.”

  “I want to,” I say immediately, giving in to my impulses and leaning over the center console, pressing my mouth to hers in a gentle kiss. “I definitely want to,” I murmur against her lips.

  She smiles and pulls away, her gaze locked with mine. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I reach out and cup her cheek, stroke her soft skin. “Want me to text you when I’m done?”

  Amanda nods.

  “Will you be okay all alone?” I don’t want her scared.

  I want to protect her in every way I can.

  “Yeah.” She nods again.

  “I’ll see you later tonight then.” I lean in and kiss her once more. This one is longer, my lips lingering, our mouths clinging. When I finally break away she has this dazed expression on her face and her lips are swollen.

  Every time I look at her, I swear she gets more beautiful.

  I decided to leisurely prep for my night with Jordan. First I took a shower, shaved everything I could and washed my hair with my favorite shampoo and conditioner. Once I dried off, I slathered on enough body lotion that I ended up smelling like the inside of a Bath & Body Works store. I’m figuring by the time Jordan comes over, it’ll mellow out to the perfect, subtle scent.

  I take my time drying my hair and then curl it with the curling iron Livvy left at my house. It has a big barrel an
d makes the most perfect waves. I pluck my brows. I brush my teeth. I debate wearing makeup and decide why not, then only put on a light coat of mascara and that’s it.

  Nerves make my stomach twist since I didn’t really eat dinner, though I probably should. Mom calls to check up on me, and she makes me swear I have no one over at the house. Considering I don’t have anyone over when she calls, I’m not lying when I swear I don’t.

  Yeah. Whatever makes me feel better, right?

  Once I end the call with Mom, I go into my tiny walk-in closet and stare at my clothes. Boring, boring, boring. I want to wear something cute but casual. Something that doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard because honestly? I am trying so hard right now.

  If all goes as planned, I’m going to seduce Jordan Tuttle tonight.

  Funny, right? He’s the player. He’s the one who’s been with an endless list of girls. I’m the virgin who’s made out with maybe a handful of guys. What do I know about seduction? Nothing, that’s what.

  But I’m bound and determined to get over my nervousness about having actual sex. I’m going to do it. With Jordan. In my bed. All night long.

  Oh God. I think I’m going to be sick.

  Determined to get over the nausea, I decide to focus on other things. Like what I’m going to wear. I go to my dresser and dig through the top drawer until I find the new lacy black bra I splurged on a few weeks ago, thoughts of Jordan in my mind as I purchased it. It’s sat unworn in my underwear drawer ever since, along with the matching lacy panties I bought. I drop the towel I have wrapped around me on the ground and put them on, then check out my reflection in the mirror.

  Ugh. There’s no way I can greet him looking like this. What am I going to do? Just casually open the front door wearing only my underwear? Yeah, Jordan might appreciate it, but I’ll feel dumb.

  This seduction thing is hard.

  Kneeling down, I pull open the bottom drawer and pull out a pair of black cropped leggings. Then I grab my favorite PINK gray, black and white sweatshirt and tug it over my head before putting on the leggings. I step into my old black slippers and then check my phone.

  It’s only nine-thirty. I’ve still got a long wait ahead of me.

  I flop on the bed and text Livvy, asking what she’s doing. Thankfully, she responds immediately.

  You don’t want to know.

  Huh. What does she mean by that?

  I definitely want to know now.

  You’ll be mad at me.

  When am I ever mad at you?

  This will make you mad.

  She’s being so evasive. Meaning she’s hiding something. She’s doing something wrong. But what?

  It’s like a light bulb goes on over my head. I send her another text.

  Please tell me this has nothing to do with Dustin.

  No answer for a few minutes and then…

  This has nothing to do with Dustin.

  Are you lying?

  Maybe.

  OLIVIA!!!

  I rarely bust out the full name, but this is deserved. What the hell is she doing with Dustin right now?

  Are you with him?

  I’m at his house. He’s feeling really down because he broke up with Brianne earlier. He asked me to come over, so I did.

  They broke up?

  Yeah. First thing this morning. Via text. So cheesy.

  Now you’re over at his house consoling him?

  Yes! We’re friends. That’s what friends do.

  She is going to get into a heap of trouble. I can just feel it.

  What about Ryan?

  What about him?

  Where is he?

  He had his friends over at his house and they’re playing one of his dad’s new video games.

  Oh, that’s right. His dad is a video game designer. But I thought Ryan hated video games?

  Doesn’t he hate playing video games?

  Sometimes his dad asks all his friends over so they can test them out. I think that’s what they’re doing.

  Suddenly, my phone rings and Livvy’s name flashes on the screen.

  “Why are you calling me?” I answer.

  “It’s a lot easier than typing. I’m feeling lazy. Plus, I just snuck outside.” I hear a door close behind her and it gets a lot quieter. “Please don’t be mad at me for going over to Dustin’s. He sounded so sad and like he needed a friend. I couldn’t say no to him.”

  “You should say no. It’s going to get you into a lot of trouble when Ryan finds out,” I warn.

  “Oh, screw him. What does he care? I’m sort of over his bullshit.”

  How many times have I heard this? And they haven’t been together very long. It’s kind of crazy. “If you’re over his bullshit, then maybe you should break up with him.”

  “I’m not ready for that yet.”

  “But you’ll go over to Dustin’s house like no big deal.”

  “Stop. You’re making me feel bad.” Livvy pauses for a moment. “What are you doing right now?”

  “I’m alone. My parents are gone.” I explain to her how they left to go help my older brother George with his car. I’m starting to wonder if that was a made up story. It sounds bogus.

  “Wait a minute. So you’re in your house completely alone?” Livvy sounds shocked.

  “Yeah. What’s the big deal?”

  “Are you having Tuttle over tonight?” Her voice lowers and I can tell she’s teasing me.

  I decide to use her answer from earlier. “Maybe.”

  Livvy sucks in a sharp breath. “He is coming over there, isn’t he? Or is he already there? Ah, you’re going to do it tonight, aren’t you?” She is screaming so loud I pull the phone away from my ear.

  “Oh my God, Liv! Go ahead and let the entire neighborhood hear you.”

  “Sorry! I’m just so excited! I can’t believe you two are finally going to do it!” Livvy squeals, making me wince.

  “I don’t know if anything is going to happen,” I tell her. “So don’t get your hopes up.”

  “Come on, you’re alone in your house and he’s coming over, right? You never did tell me where he is.”

  “He’s having dinner with his parents right now. Then he’s coming over.”

  “Oh.” She says nothing else and I’m immediately defensive.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Remember that time we went out to dinner and we saw his dad?”

  How could I forget? It was an awful night.

  “Aren’t you worried that if his dinner with the parents is anything like that night, Tuttle will come over to your house all pissed off and ragey?”

  “Ragey?”

  “Well, yeah. It’s like he’s full of pent up rage. And that makes him ragey. Get it?”

  “I get it.” My stomach growls and I realize I’m hungry after all. “Listen, Livvy, I gotta go. Don’t do anything too crazy, okay?”

  “I won’t, I promise. We’re just talking. That’s it.” Livvy giggles. “But I want you to do as many crazy things as possible tonight, okay? And I want a full report tomorrow!” She ends the call before I can say anything else. I check the time.

  Well, that killed fifteen minutes.

  I’m munching on chips and a grilled cheese sandwich I just made when I finally get a text from Jordan.

  I’ll be at your house in less than five.

  I swallow hard, nearly choking on cheese and bread. He’ll be here in less than five minutes?

  “Shit!” I yell out loud as I grab my paper plate and dump everything in the trash, including my half eaten sandwich. I turn off the kitchen light and run to my bathroom, where I hurriedly brush my teeth to get rid of grilled cheese and Dorito breath. Of course, that’s when the doorbell rings, me with a mouthful of toothpaste, foam around my lips and dripping down my chin.

  I spit in the sink, rinse out as fast as I can before I wipe my face with a towel. I’m literally running to the door and when I finally get there and throw it open, I’m relieved to see Jordan stand
ing on the doorstep. Looking windblown and vaguely irritated.

  Oh, and super hot. Like, wearing a plaid flannel shirt and jeans and boots hot. Like I want to rip his clothes off hot.

  “Hi,” I say—or more like I squeak. I sound like a mouse.

  “Hey.” He nods toward me. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” I back up out of his way and he walks inside, stopping just in front of me. His gaze drops to my chin, lingering there, but he doesn’t say anything. “Is something wrong?”

  “You have something.” He reaches out and swipes at my chin, his fingertip covered in white. “On your face.”

  Oh my God. How embarrassing. “Yeah, it’s toothpaste.”

  “You were brushing your teeth?” His brows shoot up.

  “Well, yeah. You texted me when I was eating Doritos and a grilled cheese sandwich.” Ack, why’d I tell him that? “I didn’t want to have Dorito breath.”

  “You’re cute.” I lift my head to watch as he slips his finger in between his lips and sucks the toothpaste off. That’s sort of gross. But it’s also rather…intimate, in a weird way. “Minty fresh.”

  “Jordan!” I go to shove his chest and he grabs hold of my wrist, keeping my hand pressed against him. “You’re so weird.”

  “Come here.” He pulls me into his arms, crushing me against him and I go willingly, slipping my arms around his waist and holding him tight. “I missed you,” he murmurs. “Your hair smells good.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper. My plan worked—he likes the shampoo. “I missed you too.” We only just saw each other a few hours ago and it had been tension-filled. Crap, we’d almost gotten into a fight. But now I just want to melt into him. Hold on to him and never let him go.

  “Let’s get inside.” He walks me farther into the house and kicks the door shut. He seems just as reluctant to let me go as he turns the both of us toward the door so he can lock it. “Wanna sit on the couch?”