If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (155 page)

“He was really easy to talk to. There’s something about him that makes you trust him,” she says, reflecting on his words. “One thing led to another, and I think it was, you know, us being so honest and open with each other that made it so erotic.”

I cringe at the word. “Don’t say that, Amanda. You guys just made out. It’s not like you had sex.”

She pouts. “We might have if you hadn’t barged in like someone’s parent.”

“That wasn’t going to happen even if I hadn’t. Chris is a virgin.” The instant the words leave my mouth, I want to kick myself.

“He’s what?” she says, her eyes growing big.

“Just forget I said it.”

“No. Oh my God. Are you sure? That super-hot guy with a body like David Beckham is a virgin?” she says in disbelief, her excitement growing with each word.

“You can’t tell anyone!”

“Tell anyone? Are you crazy? So that I could have even more competition? Hell no! That is so hot. If he wasn’t hot, it’d be kind of weird, but oh my God. No one forgets their first, even if it was sucky and hurt like hell in the back of a Jeep.”

I remember how bad she said her first time was with Jeremy Wiley, her second serious boyfriend when she went through her rebel stage.

“Okay, can we get off my best friends’ sexual resumes? Both of them,” I say, feeling queasy.

She scoots to the edge of the bed. “Are you sure he’s a virgin? I mean I know you guys are best friends and all, but he is a dude. Why would he tell you if he hasn’t broken anyone’s seal yet?”

I look at her, offended. “Because he’s my
best
friend.”

“I’m your best friend, and there’re things about me you don’t know,” she says, and I roll my eyes.

“Like what?”

She thinks for a moment. “Like I want to be your other best friend’s first. Eeek!” She squeals, and I make the universal signal for vomiting. “Won’t it be great? Your best friends dating—you’ll get to be with both of us all the time. You can help us by gifts for each other, help us when we argue…”

I wonder if she trying to make me feel better about this or worse. “Maybe you should slow down a little bit. You guys talked and made out. Did Chris say anything about you dating?”

“No, but why wouldn’t we? We’re both single, we’re the same age, go to the same school, equal on the looks scale, and our chemistry was off the charts,” she says enthusiastically, bouncing down next to me. “And of course you’ll let him know what a great girlfriend I’d make and give him the little push he needs.”

I look down guiltily, thinking of the little push I already gave him, which has turned out to be the dumbest idea I’ve ever had.

“Are you going to see him today?” she asks, ignoring my complete hesitancy with all of this.

“I should. His dad is tutoring me after work today.” I sip what’s left of the latte she brought me.

“You know what? You should call Chris right now!” she says, searching the room for my phone.

“Ugh, no!” I laugh even though I’d had every intention of calling him when I woke up—before she showed up at my door to get the 4-1-1.

“Please, please, please,” she begs.

“No, but I promise as soon as I talk to him, I’ll let you know what he said.”

She pouts but accepts my answer. “Do you want to go get breakfast before work? My treat!”

That goes without saying. Amanda always treats. Even though she can be a little kooky sometimes, she’s a really great friend. I’ve never been anywhere near as rich as her parents are, but she stayed my friend even after I fell to the low end of the totem pole when my stepdad kicked us out. That didn’t change the way she looks at me one bit, and that’s something I can’t say about a lot of people.

“Okay. Let me shower, and we can go,” I say, grabbing some clothes and heading out the room. Before I do, she stops me.

“And if I turn out to be right and Chris is totally into me, you’ll be cool with it?” she asks.

I shut the door and turn around to face her. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

She shrugs. “I know you’ve always maintained that you, Chris, and Aidan are best friends, but you know how that can go sometimes.”

“There are a lot of reasons I would rather you found another boyfriend, but Chris and I being into each other is not one of them,” I tell her honestly, and she smiles.

Amanda and I have breakfast at IHOP a couple of blocks from my job so that she can drop me off at work afterward. I tell Amanda about Brett and how handsome, sweet, and mature he was. She says he gets extra points just for being in college and if she wasn’t so into Chris, she’d ask if he had a friend. I try not to roll my eyes at that.

She apologizes again for Deanna being a bitch. I tell her I’m used to it and assure her it won’t, as it never has, affect our friendship. She says she’s going to find out exactly whose friend Brett is and get his number. When Amanda puts her mind to something, nothing can stop her. Still, I tell her I don’t want to seem desperate. Brett didn’t give me butterflies or the tingling feeling from my toes to every other part of my body, but it was one of the best first conversations I’ve ever had with anyone. I can see the possibility of butterflies developing, and just the prospect of that makes it worth it.

Amanda and I manage to make it through the rest of our meal without her fawning over Chris, and I catch her up on Evie’s recent forays into love and how she wasn’t even home when I got back after the party, which was better for everyone. Amanda reminds me that I only have one more year left with Evie before I get into my dream school. I cross my fingers that she’s right.

The rest of my morning goes well. When I get to work, the coffee shop isn’t bustling as much as it normally is on a Saturday morning, so I’m able to get some studying in, glancing at the notes my boss lets me keep taped up by the register. So it’s not surprising when Tara, the supervisor on staff, emerges from the back room with a grim look.

“Hey, Lisa, it’s pretty slow today. You can head out,” she says dryly.

Tara says everything dryly. It’s only four o’clock. My mom won’t be home from work until six, and it’s pretty nice out—sweater-with-no-jacket weather—so I decide to make the trek home. I’m scanning through my CD player when a honk startles me. I turn to see a silver, newer-looking truck pull up next to me. I don’t recognize it, so I keep walking. I’m startled when I hear my name called out. I stop and look back to see Brett Stelson, the blue-eyed dream boy, getting out of the truck and heading my way. Wow, Amanda works fast. I take off my headphones and try to suppress my grin.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to hide my excitement but failing miserably.

“Is that an ‘I’m excited to see you’ what are you doing here? Or an ‘eww’ what are you doing here?” he jokes, and I laugh.

“Definitely the first,” I say, shifting my bag on my back.

“Claire’s sister Amanda called me this morning and said I was a jerk for not getting your number and that she was your best friend and I needed her approval, so I figured showing up here to officially get your number was something I could do to get in good with her.” He shrugs with a sarcastic smile. His eyes are even bluer in the sun.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad to be here,” he says, smiling brightly.

This is nice, being with a guy who likes me and doesn’t have to pretend that he doesn’t like me to make me think he’s cool.

“Well, Brett, I changed my mind about earlier. About you showing up here being creepy,” I joke.

He nods. “Ah, so you do think I’m creepy,” he says sarcastically.

“It would be creepy if you showed up here just to get my number. But it wouldn’t be as creepy if you showed up here to ask me out,” I say teasingly.

He looks up as if he’s pondering. “Well, anything to avoid looking like a creep.”

I laugh.

The ride home with Brett was much nicer than walking home alone, listening to my scratched up CD. My aunt says that you can tell a lot about a man from his car. Not just if it’s new or has all the luxury features—to determine if he has money or is from money—but you can tell how clean he is from how he keeps it. If you touch his radio, you’ll know whether he’s possessive or not, and if he opens the door for you, you can tell if he was raised right or is a self-absorbed jerk. Based on those theories, Brett is a neat freak, not possessive or selfish at all, and the perfect gentleman.

He apologized again for forgetting my number and asked if there was anything in particular I wanted to do for the date, which was a slight letdown. I’d hoped, with him being older, he’d take charge of things a little more, but he made up for it when I shrugged. He suggested several options, and we ended up settling on dinner and a movie on Thursday night. Though not super exciting, I look forward to seeing him again and getting to know him better.

After he drops me off at home, I hop in the shower, phone Amanda, and let her know that she’s one of the best friends in the world for getting Brett to come down and see me—even though I’d deny it if she ever mentioned it. She tells me I can pay her back by finding out what Chris thought of her, and after what she’s done, that is the very least I can do. Last night at the party, Chris seemed mortified after their encounter, so I guess what his response will be and prepare myself to tell her to look on the bright side, that there are so many more fish in the sea and Chris isn’t as great as he seems.

I have it all worked out as I sit on Chris’s bed, flipping through his CD catalog while he plays some stupid war game on his computer.

“Amanda’s cooler than I thought she would be. I’m going to ask her out next weekend,” he says.

Huh?

When did this happen? What happened between last night and this evening to change his look of complete embarrassment and anger to him seeming to be into her, even if he’s nonchalant about it?

“Really?” I ask in disbelief.

He shrugs. “Yeah. She’s cute and funny and pretty transparent. I like that.”

“But what about last night? You seemed like you were the opposite of into her.”

“It wasn’t that I wasn’t into her. I was just embarrassed having you see us like that. It’s like having my sister walk in,” he says, making a disgusted face.

“Oh.”

“I mean, are you cool with it? I know it could be weird having your friends date,” he asks, turning his attention to me after he’s paused his game.

Date.
He’s using the actual word
date
. Not
hook up
, which I can’t even imagine Chris saying, but at the least I’d expected
hang out
, not
date
. It’s so official…

“I-I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it would be kind of weird,” I say with a chuckle.

“You’re the one who hooked us up,” he says, taking a seat on the bed next to me.

“I-I didn’t think you’d actually be into her. I just didn’t want Aidan to do to her what he does to every other girl he
dates
.”

“You know I’m not like that, Lisa.” His expression is soft, his warm green eyes staring into mine.

For a moment, I wonder how I could be “just friends” with someone like him: gorgeous, sweet, funny, and extra hot when he picks up a guitar. But even in my moment of jealousy, I feel more territorial about him as my friend than anything else.