Forever (Friends #3)(19)

Well, good. I never act angry toward him. It's about time Jordan feels my wrath.

"I'm sorry." His deep voice is quiet, reverberating within me. I love his voice. His face. His thick, dark hair and his square, masculine jaw, which is currently covered in stubble. I bet he'd give me beard burn if he kissed me for even a few minutes, and I'd also bet I'd love every moment of it.

His words suddenly sink in and I blink up at him. "What did you just say?" Did he really apologize?

"I said I'm sorry. I won't call you Mandy anymore." His gaze is imploring as he studies me. "Why did you say that earlier?"

The swift change of subject is jarring. "What are you talking about?"

"Earlier, at the game. You told me you missed me. It was so-unexpected." He shakes his head. "I didn't know how to answer you."

"So you thought the smart move was to say nothing? Thanks for that, by the way, because you made me feel incredibly stupid." Like how I feel right now, being trapped in this tiny room with him, where he seems to suck up all the air with just his mere presence.

"I didn't mean to make you feel stupid. I was the stupid one to walk away like that."

I snort in response and his lips curl into the faintest smile. His perfect face is too perfect, and ugh. It's positively unfair how gorgeous he is. It's also unfair how I can be so ready to forgive him when he offers me up the smallest smile as his apology.

He's stingy with those smiles. And he's even stingier with his laughter.

"You were stupid," I agree, removing my hand from his knee. I need to stop touching him. We're too close, this moment feels too intimate and I need to make it stop. Create some distance.

"I'm always afraid whatever I say to you will fuck it all up," he admits in a low whisper. "So most of the time, I think it's best to say nothing at all."

"Yes, and you somehow still manage to fuck it up, even when you're quiet." His eyes go wide at me dropping the f-bomb and I smile, rather pleased with myself. It's not easy to shock the unshockable Jordan Tuttle.

"I'm starting to realize that," he says.

"Please. There are a lot of things you don't realize." I pause. "A ton."

He arches a dark brow. "Like what?" 

Men. They always want facts.

"You don't seem to ever realize my feelings."

He says nothing.

"You don't realize that it's not a bad thing, having a girlfriend." I glance down, running my fingers over the bag of melting ice, before my gaze returns to his.

His eyes are lighting up at the mention of the word girlfriend, but he's not getting an easy pass.

Not even close.

"You don't realize that you had someone who would've always been in your corner, fighting for you no matter what. Nope, you let that slip right through your fingers like the idiot you are." He flinches at my harsh words and I only feel a little guilty. I'm getting to him. My words are bothering him and that's a good sign.

"So what you're saying is that I can't get you-it back."

"No." I shake my head. "You've lost the privilege."

Jordan frowns. "I can't even earn it back?"

"How? You've stomped all over it." All over me. All over my freaking heart. "There's really no way to get it back."

"I want to try." He says this so quietly, I have to lean forward just to semi-hear him.

"Are you serious?" Unable to stop myself, I start laughing. Oh, he's hilarious, this guy. "Do you even know how to do that?"

"Do what?" His frown deepens.

"Try."

Everything comes so easy for him. Or at least, it seems to come easy. Maybe some things are hard for Jordan. This has been hard on him. What we're doing. Or at least, I think it's been hard on him.

I hope it's been hard on him. If not, then he's inhuman.

"Not very well," he says truthfully, along with a halfhearted shrug. "Things are just … given to me. It's been that way my entire life. I've rarely had to fight for anything. The football scholarship I want to earn to the school of my choice, and you. Those are the two hardest things I've ever had to fight for." He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. "And I feel like I'm losing both battles."

"You're losing this particular battle." I point my thumb at my chest, indicating myself. "But I think you already know that."

He says nothing. Just watches me with that pitiful little boy look he's perfected.

"I think I need to be alone for a little while. Just so I can close my eyes and rest for a few minutes before you take me home." More like I need some time by myself so I can go over what he just said to me.

He doesn't so much as budge. In fact, he shifts closer, his body nudging against mine, and I'm tempted to shove him off the bed.