More than Friends - Monica Murphy (24 page)

Me? I’m apprehensive about the date. Jordan texted me earlier about what time he made the reservation for and where—some fancy place I could never afford. I told him I’d meet him at the restaurant and he seemed okay with it. But it’s kind of weird how I’m hitching a ride with Ryan and Livvy.

When she starts layering on the makeup, I tell her not to put on too much. “I don’t want to look totally different.”

“I’ll just emphasize what you have.” She grabs hold of my chin and contemplates my face like a doctor. “You have really good skin and your eyes are beautiful.”

I roll those supposed beautiful eyes. “They’re brown and boring.”

“No, they’re not! They’re so dark. Full of mysterious depths.” Livvy giggles. “And you have great eyebrows. Can I pluck them?” She whips out a pair of tweezers and I dodge them when she waves them close to my face.

“Why? I thought they were great!”

“You need to clean them up a little bit.” When I shake my head, she mock pouts. “Come on, please? What I plan on doing will really make them pop.”

I glance at my phone to check the time. “It’s getting late.”

“Stop worrying. Just let me work my magic.” She grabs hold of my shoulders and gives me a little shake. “Trust me.”

My nod is reluctant and she gets to work, plucking my eyebrows with those tweezers like she’s wielding some sort of torturous device. I keep jerking every time she pulls out a tiny hair and she practically stabs me with the tweezers at least three times.

“Keep still!” she reprimands like she’s my mom. “And never forget these words—beauty is pain.”

“What?” That sounds crazy.

“I’m serious. My mom used to always say that to me. Beauty is pain, pain is beauty, it’s all the same. To look good, we have to make sacrifices. And sometimes, those sacrifices hurt.” Livvy smiles mysteriously. “It’s a small price to look your absolute best, but trust me, it’s worth it.”

“You keep telling me to trust you, but all you’re doing is hurting me,” I point out, hoping she’ll see the logic and stop with the tweezing already.

Liv rolls her eyes. “You are such a baby.”

Once she’s done with my hair and makeup, she grabs the dress she picked out for me to wear and I tug it on, nearly jumping out of my skin when she yells at me to watch out for my hair. It’s this cute black-and-white striped T-shirt dress I bought on a whim last spring when I found it on a clearance rack. I’ve never worn it, though. Dresses, skirts—they’re not my thing. I feel weird in them and a lot of the time they show too much leg because they’re always too short on me.

“He is going to
die
when he sees you,” Livvy breathes as she stares at me.

I tug at the fabric of the dress. “It’s too clingy.”

“It’s perfect. You’re so thin you can carry it off.” She shakes her head, but she’s beaming. “You look
so
amazing!”

“Oh my gosh, stop. You’re gushing.” I whirl around, my eyes widening when I catch myself in the mirror.

Livvy’s right. I do look pretty damn amazing, if I do say so myself. My hair has these sexy “beach waves,” as Livvy calls them, loose and touchable despite all the hairspray she used. My makeup is subtle, not too overdone, though my eyes are intensely dark. I like them. I’ll never be able to duplicate this look on my own, but I don’t care.

For one night, I’ll feel like a princess.

“What do you think?” Livvy practically squeals when I remain too quiet for too long. “Do you like it?”

“I like it.” I turn to smile at her. “I really do. Thank you.”

“So. Excited!” She tugs me into a hug then pushes me away, frowning. “Don’t want to mess up your hair.”

“When is Ryan getting here?” I ask nervously. Now I wish Jordan were picking me up. I’m both scared and excited to see his reaction to my new look. Will he like it? Or will he think I’m trying to be something I’m not? What about the dress? I take a step away from the mirror, trying to catch my legs in the reflection. They look like long, pale sticks, almost too skinny.

Ugh, I need to stop being so critical of myself.

“He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes,” Livvy reassures me.

I can’t stop staring at my reflection in the mirror. And the longer I look, the more nervous I get. Jordan might not like the new me. Or he might like it, I don’t know.

I hate feeling so unsure.

“What shoes are you going to wear?” Livvy asks.

“I brought some flat sandals.”

“You don’t think you should wear heels?”

“I’d probably twist my ankle if I wore them.”

“But men love high heels! It makes them think about sex.” When I send her an incredulous look, she explains further. “I saw it in a movie once.”

“Just because you saw it in a movie doesn’t mean it happens for real,” I tell her. “I hope men aren’t that shallow.” And while I wouldn’t mind looking sexy for Jordan, I don’t want his mind to automatically go to sex when he sees me. Though maybe it already does, I don’t know.

My cheeks go warm at the thought.

Livvy actually snorts. “Have you met the guys we spend time with? They’re all shallow.”

Her words fill me with sadness. Does she really believe that? I don’t. Jordan definitely has substance.

“So you and Jordan are for real, huh?” Livvy asks.

I shrug, my cheeks going even hotter. “Yeah, we are. Though I don’t want to push him too hard.” He’s the type of guy who’ll run if he feels cornered, so I do my best to give him space.

“He always wants to hang out with you. I take that as a good sign. Though I understand not wanting to push too hard.” Livvy smiles. “But I think you two are on the right track.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, feeling weird. I like talking about Jordan, but then again, I don’t. She wants more details. I can see it in her eyes. Everything Jordan and I do together is so private. I don’t want to share it with the rest of the world. It feels like I’m breaking some major rule if I tell Livvy what’s happening between Jordan and I these last few weeks.

I want to savor the moment, keep it to myself. It’s my secret with Jordan. I’m excited to see him tonight. Will he give me one of those knowing smiles?

“What’s he like?”

“What? Who?”

“Tuttle. What’s he like, when it’s just the two of you alone? He’s always so closed off and acts like we’re all bugging him most of the time. I’m guessing he’s already opened up to you?”

“Sort of.” I shrug, feeling inadequate. Has he really opened up to me? I don’t think so. A little bit but not much. “We’re taking it one day at a time.”

“So no juicy details yet?” The crestfallen expression on her face tells me she was hoping for something more.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I say with a shake of my head.

Within a few minutes Ryan shows up at Livvy’s house, ever the gentleman as he speaks with Fitch, Livvy’s mom’s boyfriend. They make idle chitchat while Livvy and I lurk in the hall, watching them.

“I don’t know why he’s so nice to Fitch,” Livvy says irritably. “That guy is creepy.”

“Is he still giving off bad vibes?” She’s complained to me about him before.

“Totally. I don’t get my mom’s relationship with him. I really just don’t get Fitch. He’s odd, but I can’t put my finger on exactly why,” Livvy explains.

“Olivia!” Fitch yells from the living room, making both of us wince. “Your boyfriend is waiting for you!”

We both enter the living room together, Livvy going straight for Ryan while I stand there awkwardly waiting for them.

“You look amazing,” Ryan whispers as he rests his hands on her hips, pulling her in for a quick kiss.

Fitch scowls. I’m guessing he doesn’t like public displays of affection. His gaze slides to mine, and he smiles, though there’s something almost sinister about it. I offer him a faint smile in return and he looks me up and down, like he’s totally checking me out.

Ew.

“Come on, let’s go. I don’t want to leave Tuttle waiting at the restaurant,” Livvy urges, taking Ryan’s hand and leading him toward the front door. I follow after them. “Bye, Fitch,” she yells as she opens the door.

“Be back by one,” he tells her just as she slams the door in his face, making Ryan chuckle.

“You’re so rude to him Livvy,” he teases as he leads us toward his car parked in front of Liv’s house.

“He’s gross. Look at how he acts like he’s my dad! It’s ridiculous.” Liv shakes her head.

“Where’s your mom?” Ryan asks her as he opens both doors on the passenger side of his sleek white BMW. I climb into the back seat and he shuts the door for me, then does the same for Livvy. I smooth my hands over my dress and tug the skirt down, trying to cover my thighs. I feel totally overexposed, which is silly since I wear shorts all the time.

Livvy doesn’t answer until Ryan is sitting behind the steering wheel. “She’s working until nine. Some weird shift change she had. So Fitch said he’d supervise me until I left. Then he’s going to go pick her up from the hospital.” She mock shudders. “I wish they’d just break up already.”

I remain quiet for the entire drive, listening to Ryan and Liv’s conversation. They talk about football and the restaurant and Ryan tells her how hot she looks in her dress. She’s wearing a light gray T-shirt dress, though hers fits a little looser.

My phone buzzes and I check it.

I’m at the restaurant. Where are you?

We’re almost there.

Good.

I tuck my phone back into the small purse I brought, letting that warm, fuzzy feeling wash over me. I can feel his frustration even through those few words he texted. He likes me. He wants to be with me. I’ve spent a lot of time with him lately, and I even met his mom.

That has to count for something, right?

We arrive at the restaurant and Ryan turns his car keys over to the valet before walking us inside. Jordan’s sitting in the lobby waiting for us and he rises to his feet when he sees me, his eyes going wide as he slowly approaches.

“You put our name in already?” Ryan asks him.

Jordan never takes his gaze away from me. “Yeah. Table will be ready in a few minutes.”

And then his hands are on my waist, pulling me into him. “You look gorgeous,” he whispers just before he kisses me lightly on the lips.

I’m thankful he’s holding onto me. Otherwise I probably would’ve slipped to the floor in a boneless heap at his very public claiming of me.

“So, Tuttle. You like her makeover?” Livvy asks Jordan, amusement lacing her tone. She’s loving every minute of this.

“I do,” he tells her before he leans in and murmurs in my ear, “Though I think you’re even more beautiful when you’re wearing sweats and no makeup on.”

“Stop.” I lightly smack his chest, my entire body flushing hot.

“Just stating the truth.” He kisses my cheek before we both turn to find Ryan and Livvy watching us with surprise etched across their faces. “What?” he asks crossly.

They both stand up straight, their expressions going neutral. “Not used to seeing you like this, bro,” Ryan says.

“You pretty much hate everyone,” Livvy adds.

Jordan slips his arm around my waist. “I don’t hate everyone,” he drawls. “I’m just picky.”

What a way to put it. So is he saying that I should feel special because he picked me?

The hostess calls Jordan’s name and we follow after her as she escorts us to our table. The restaurant is small and intimate, with dark walls and low lighting, candles burning on every table. Colorful fall bouquets sit next to lit votives in the center and the tables are draped in white cloth. It’s all very elegant and fancy and I’m not used to this sort of place whatsoever.

Thad never took me to fancy dinners the few times we actually went out on a date. And my family doesn’t come to places like this. The fanciest we get is Applebee’s or Chili’s. I know that sounds lame, but it’s true.

I pick up my menu and flip it over. It’s only printed on one side and I frown, reading over the small list of appetizers and entrees they serve.

“The chef changes the menu every few weeks, and themes it by whatever’s in season,” Jordan explains to me, like he can sense my confusion.

“Oh.” I scan it, unease slipping through me. None of it sounds that great, though mostly that’s due to me never eating this kind of food. I’m not an adventurous eater. I’m not much of an adventurous anything. Glancing around the table, I see Livvy smiling over at Ryan as he says something flirtatious. She’s not worried about ordering, so I shouldn’t be either.

“You want me to order for you?” Jordan offers, his voice low and only for me to hear. “What looks good to you?”

There’s not one item with chicken in it, and that would’ve been my go-to. There’s some strange ravioli thing that sounds sweet and kind of odd. There’s also steak on the menu, but I’m not that crazy about red meat.

“I guess,” I finally say to him with a tiny shrug, keeping my gaze fixed on the menu. I’m feeling helpless and stupid, and that is one of the worst feelings in the world.

The server appears, a guy who’s not much older than we are, and his gaze fixes on Jordan like he knows exactly who he is. Which he just might. Jordan doesn’t acknowledge him in a friendly manner, though. He orders a goat cheese appetizer that makes me wrinkle my nose, and the waiter jots everything down before offering a dazzling smile and saying, “Your father is dining with us tonight.”