More than Friends - Monica Murphy (34 page)

Eli takes a step closer, then another. I back up, until my butt hits the edge of the counter and a wave of Axe body spray washes over me when he looms. “But now you two are done. So I called first dibs.”

He says the worst things. “You did not just say that.”

“I did.” He is all up in my business, his hands braced on the counter on either side of me, caging me in. The boy may say stupid stuff, but he has a few moves. And he’s rather persuasive. “I know you were all about that Tuttle life, but hopefully you’ve moved on.”

I can’t stop myself from laughing. I’ve never heard such cheesy lines, not that I’ve had much practice. Eli starts laughing too, and I appreciate his cheesiness because it’s a total distraction. Tuttle’s rejection still stings.

“Amanda.”

Glancing up, I find Eli leaning into me, his head tilted to the side, like he’s coming in for—what?

Oh God. A kiss.

I can’t do it. I can’t do it.

I turn my head away at the last second and his lips collide with my cheek. It was sweet, a missed chance, and I felt…

Nothing.

Not a damn thing.

Eli pulls away and licks his lips, his gaze laser focused on my mouth, like he can’t wait to taste it. “Can I touch you?”

“Um…”

He goes ahead and touches me anyway, one hand resting lightly on my waist. He studies me intently and it’s like I can see the cogs turning in his brain, trying to come up with a plan.

“This isn’t going to happen, Eli,” I say softly.

He frowns. “You’re not even going to give me a chance?” The disappointment in his voice rings clear.

I slowly shake my head. “I’m sorry.”

“Is it because of Tuttle?”

Being with Eli like this, in Jordan’s house, I can’t help but think of him. His smell and his taste and how he knew just how to touch me.

The last time we were together in this house, in his room, naked and on his bed. The memories come one after another. Quick and intense and unavoidable, and then I’m pushing Eli away, a gasp escaping me when the door slams open and I see who’s standing in the open doorway.

Watching us.

It’s Jordan.

“W
hat. The. Fuck.” I bite the words out, my fingers curling against my palms, my blood running so hot I feel like I’m about to burst into flames.

Eli Bennett backs away from Amanda, holding his hands up in front of him and scared shitless. His eyes are wide and he can’t stop shaking his head. “It’s not what you think, bro.”

“I’m not your bro, asshole.” I flick my head. “Get the fuck out of here.”

He sends Amanda a quick look before he’s scurrying out of the bathroom like the scared little rat he is. I make a disgusted sound as I shut and lock the door, pressing my forehead against the cool wood for a moment so I can gather my thoughts. Gather my emotions. My anger.

I count to five, take a deep breath, and turn to face her.

She’s perched on the edge of the bathroom counter looking like a goddamn queen. Her back and shoulders are straight, and there’s a haughty look on her face. Her eyes are a little dazed and her lips are parted. Lips I’ve kissed so many times, and I miss them. I miss her.

But she let Eli Bennett
kiss
her. In my bathroom.

I can’t believe it.

“Let me out,” she says, the slightest catch in her voice, like I scare her.

Good. She scares me too. She fucking terrifies me. That’s why I’ve been avoiding her the last few weeks.

“No.” I lean my back against the door and cross my arms, contemplating her. “We should talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” she snaps.

“I think we do.” I remain quiet and so does she. I’m trying to outwait her, but she’s stubborn and I give up fast. When I’m pissed, I lose patience. “Eli, Amanda? Really?”

“You have no room to judge.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder, her eyes full of anger.

“He’s a kid.”

“At least he likes me. He’s into me. And he has no problem letting everyone know about it either.”

That was a direct hit. “Get real. Being with you gives him bragging rights. That’s it. He only wants to bag you because you’re a senior and he’s a lame ass freshman.”

She recoils and looks away, her normally lush lips forming a thin, straight line. “
Bag
me?”

Bad choice of words. But I’m in too deep now, so there’s no going back. “Hook up with you. Fuck you. Whatever you want to call it.”

Amanda turns that angry glare back on me, her dark eyes blazing. “You really think I’d—
fuck
him tonight? Seriously?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. When I’m jealous, I lash out. That’s what I’m doing right now. Lashing out like an asshole because she let some other guy put his hands on her. Put his lips on her.

It’s killing me. Tearing me apart. But I deserve it. I pushed her away. I acted like she meant nothing, when she means
everything
to me, and I was too scared to face it, face
her
head on like a man.

I’m a coward.

“Nice to know you think so low of me.” She hops off the counter and stalks toward me, determination in her every step, looking sexy as hell, too. “Move out of my way.”

“No.”

“Open the door.” She’s standing so close to me, her body almost brushes against mine. Tilting her head back, she glares. “Open it.”

I study her beautiful face. Memorize every little detail. I’ve missed her. So damn much. “No.” I switch tactics. “Did you kiss him?”

“Who?”

“Eli Bennett! Did you, Amanda? Did you kiss him?”

“No, of course I didn’t!”

Relief floods me, heady and strong, and she notices. For some reason, that sends her into a full on rage.

She reaches out and pounds on the door, right by my shoulder. “Let me out!” She’s yelling at the top of her lungs, and I wince. “Please! Somebody!”

I cover her mouth with my hand, silencing her. Bending down, I thrust my face in hers. “Stop yelling, okay? I’ll let you out. Just—be quiet.”

Slowly I uncover her mouth and she starts beating on my chest. Pummeling me with her fists, one hit after another. She keeps saying something again and again, the words falling from her lips so fast, I can’t make them out at first. Until I can.

“I hate you, I hate you.”

I grab hold of her wrists to stop her from hitting me. “Amanda.”

“I hate you, Jordan. I really do. I hate you so much.” She’s crying. Tears are streaming down her face and her mascara is running. I’ve seen plenty of girls cry before. I’ve seen my mother’s tears countless times. They always make me uncomfortable. Tears in general put me on edge.

Seeing Amanda cry breaks my heart.

I pull her into my arms and hold her close, letting her cry all over the front of my shirt. “You don’t hate me.”

“I do! God, I do. I swear. I really,
really
hate you, Jordan.”

Her words are like tiny knives, carving into my already fucked up heart. She’s blubbering against my shirt, soaking it with her tears and I feel helpless. I can’t make the tears stop. How do I make the damn tears stop?

“Amanda.” I cup her cheeks and tilt her head back, forcing her to look at me. She glares, her eyes glittering with unshed tears, her lips red and swollen, her cheeks flushed pink.

“Please don’t cry,” I whisper, my throat raw. My feelings, my insides, my emotions, all scraped raw.

Her face crumples at my words, like I just made it worse. I lean down and press my forehead against hers. Close my eyes and inhale in her sweet, delicious scent. My heart pounds, and my breaths come fast. She’s killing me. Ripping my heart to shreds with every shuddery breath, every soft cry.

She slowly pulls away, her head bent, like she can’t look at me. “I trusted you, Jordan. I told you that you could talk to me about anything, that I would be there for you no matter what, and you still dumped me after the blowjob. Just like you do with all the other girls.”

“It wasn’t like that—” I start, but she cuts me off with a look.

“It was
exactly
like that. I gave almost everything to you, and in the end, you dumped me. I’m just like the rest of them. You discarded me as if I was trash and never really talked to me again. Not even for our project.” The tears start back up. “Who does that? What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you care about anyone?”

“No!” The word explodes out of my mouth and I pull away from her, run my hands through my hair in frustration. “I don’t. I care about no one. Not my parents, not my so-called friends, not anyone. Okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

She stares at me like I’m some sort of freak. Unshed tears fill her eyes and I want to go to her, catch the tears with my thumb, kiss her pain away.

But I can’t. I’m the one who caused her so much pain. I have to leave her alone.

“Why are you like this?” Her voice is a harsh whisper. “Why?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I can blame my mom and dad. They’re fucked up, Amanda. More fucked up than I am.”

She grabs my hand and laces her fingers with mine, and that is my undoing. That I can be so awful to her and she still cares, she still wants to help me…

I can’t resist her. Instead, I pull her into my arms.

Having her like this, holding her like this, relaxes me. It’s been too long. The past few weeks have felt like years. My entire body sways toward her, like it’s desperate to get close and I have no control.

Amanda curls her hand around my nape, her fingers tightening into my skin. When she angles her head slightly to the right…

We’re kissing. Our mouths drawn to each other like we can’t fight it, fight this, whatever we have brewing between us. The kiss turns hot and deep in an instant and I pull her in close, whirl her around so she’s the one pressed against the wall as I continue to devour her sweet mouth. She grabs hold of me, a whimper sounding low in her throat, and I slip my hands around her, under her, gripping her ass and hauling her up so her legs go around my hips.

I pin her against the wall with just my body and unleash my everything on her. We kiss like we never plan on coming up for air, and my hands wander. Search and explore. Reacquainting myself with her body. This body that feels like it belongs to me.

Only one word pounds through my head, throbs with my heart.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

She’s mine.

And I’m never going to let her forget it.