“Right.” He nods, his expression totally shut off. No more friendly Cade for me. “I should’ve known. You two were acting weird around each other Monday night.”
“It was…awkward. I hadn’t seen him in years.” Were we that obvious?
Probably.
“And it’s only Thursday,” Cade points out. “Obviously he knows how to get to you. Sent you the flowers on Tuesday, took you out, and must’ve convinced you that you two belong together. Again. All in the matter of approximately forty-eight hours. Am I right?”
I blink up at him, shocked by the venomous edge to in his voice. Why is he so angry?
Rising to my feet, I cross my arms almost defensively. “We have—history between us. And it’s something we still want to explore.”
Cade rolls his eyes. “Sure. Whatever you say. So you bring me along to that game and play me like a fool.”
I try to withhold my wince. He’s sort of right. And I feel terrible about it. “We didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Dropping my arms, I rest my hands on my hips. “Listen, you don’t need to take your aggression out on me.”
A huff of surprise escapes him. “What are you talking about?”
“I turn you down as nicely as I can, and you’re downright—hostile.” My blood is boiling. Like seriously, who does he think he is? “What gives you the right to start yelling at me?”
“I wasn’t yell—”
I cut him off. “You raised your voice at me and you know it. You’re not my boyfriend, Cade, not that the title gives you any right to talk to me like that. We’ve gone on two dates. That’s it.”
“You led me on,” he accuses, and for the tiniest moment, I feel guilty.
Cade’s not too far off the mark. I might’ve used him on Monday so I didn’t have to go to that game and face Tuttle alone. That was wrong of me.
“Two dates isn’t leading someone on.” I lift my chin, trying to ignore how my body is starting to shake. “I apologize if I made you feel that way, though.”
I am the bigger person for apologizing. That’s what I’m telling myself. He really doesn’t deserve my apology. He should say sorry to me.
Cade doesn’t bother acknowledging my saying sorry either. The jerk.
“Jordan Tuttle is rich. And famous. I can’t compete with that, when he’s showering you with attention and money and gifts. But just know this. I’m a regular guy.” He points his thumb at his chest. “I’ll always be here when Tuttle won’t be. Remember that.”
And with those last words, Cade exits the lunchroom without a backward glance.
Shock courses through me as I pick up my phone with shaky fingers. I see that Jordan has sent me two more texts.
It’ll be fun, I promise.
I want you there with me.
Cade’s words ring through my mind as I try to come up with a response for Jordan. I hate how easily it is for me to doubt him after what Cade said. That’s stupid. I barely know Cade.
And I’ve known Jordan forever.
I can’t afford the plane ticket, is my response.
He texts back immediately. Give me a break, Mandy. I got you.
I smile when the next text appears on my screen.
I got you in more ways than you’ll ever know.
Flirt, I respond.
He sends me a bunch of kissy faced emojis, which is surprising. He was never one to express himself with emojis.
I send him blushy faced ones in return.
“Whoa, what happened between you and Cade?” Lena asks as she rushes into the lunchroom, heading straight for my table.
“What do you mean?” Apprehension ripples through me. I really hope Cade didn’t complain to her about me. He only just walked out of here, so he couldn’t have griped for too long.
“I passed him in the hall and he practically snarled at me when I said hi,” Lena explains, her eyes wide. “He’s always so nice. I didn’t know what his problem could be until I saw you sitting in here.”
“Gee, thanks a lot,” I say sarcastically as I set my phone down with a sigh. I don’t like how shaky that conversation with Cade made me feel, and I’m thankful it was Lena who walked in and not someone else. I need a friend now more than ever. “I was honest with him like you told me to be.”
“Oh.” Lena sits across from me at the table. “I guess he didn’t like to hear what you had to say.”
“Not at all,” I agree.
“What did you tell him?”
“Well, first he tried to ask me out on another date.” I see the flicker of disappointment in Lena’s eyes, but I push past it. “When I turned him down and said I was seeing someone else, he figured out quick who that someone else was.”
“Was he sad?” Lena asks.
“More like angry. He accused me of leading him on.”
“Well, I guess most guys don’t like to be turned down, and when you’re turned down because the woman you’re interested in is seeing a famous football player? That’s gotta hurt a little.” Lena winces.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, but that still doesn’t give Cade the right to be mean to me.”
“I totally agree,” Lena says.
I hate how the doubt starts creeping up on me again. “I’m not even sure if this is the right thing to do.”
Lena frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Should I keep seeing Jordan?”
“Do you want to keep seeing Jordan?” I can see the surprise etched all over my friend’s face. She probably thinks I’m insane.
I nod, startled by the sudden lump of emotion clogging my throat making me unable to speak.
“Then you should go for it.” She makes it sound so simple.
“He invited me to go watch his game this Sunday,” I tell her.
Lena’s eyes light up. “Oh, that’ll be fun. In the suite again?”
“No, in Florida.” I suck in a breath. “He wants me to go to his away game.”
“Oh. Wow.” Lena blinks rapidly, her brows shooting up. “That feels serious.”
It’s almost reassuring to hear her say exactly what I was thinking. “I know, and it scares me. Getting back together with Jordan…scares me a lot.”
As soon as I confess this, the relief that hits me is almost staggering. It feels so good, admitting my secret emotions to my friend.
Lena sits up straighter, her expression determined. “So. Is it a good fear or bad fear?”
She’s totally confusing me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, does the thought of getting back together with Jordan make you feel…afraid? Like in a dark and foreboding way? Or is it more the fear of the unknown.”
Jordan has never scared me in a dark or foreboding way. I always felt safe with Jordan. Now, not so much, only because of the uncertainty of everything that’s happening between us. I know him, but I don’t. I understand him, yet I don’t.
Confusing, right? I make no sense. My emotions are a mixed-up jumble of insecure teenage Amanda and confident, grown-up Amanda.
“It’s the unknown,” I admit. “It could be great, but what if I mess it up again?” Or he could mess it up this time around.
“The only way you’ll know is if you try.” Lena reaches out and grabs my hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Would you rather try one more time? Or have a lifetime of regret?”
“Well, when you put it like that…” My voice drifts and I start to laugh, squeezing her hand in return. “I don’t like regret.”
“Then I guess we know your answer then.” She smiles.
I swallow hard, ignoring the way my stomach flutters with nerves.
I guess we do know my answer.
My phone rings at exactly seven o’clock, which is when Jordan said he’d call—though he didn’t tell me it would be a FaceTime call. Thank goodness I still look decent and I already changed out of the work polo.
I hit answer and wait eagerly f
or his face to fill my screen.
My breath catches when he’s finally there, a little smile curling his lips when we make eye contact. “Hey,” he says in that easygoing way of his. Like it’s no big deal that we’re talking like this. That the last time I saw him, we made out and I ended up coming all over his jeans.
Seriously, I need to get over my embarrassment. We’re trying to make this work. I have every right to basically hump Jordan and have an orgasm.
“Hi,” I say, trying to keep it together. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” he says, leaning back against a headboard. Guess he’s sprawled out on the bed in his hotel room. I wish I was with him. “Tired.”
“Time change messing you up?”
“Kind of.” He hides a yawn, and it hits me how much I miss him. Silly, considering how long we haven’t been in each other’s lives. I spend a few days with him, and now it isn’t enough. “How are you?”
“Good. It was a crazy day.” I already decided I won’t tell him about my earlier argument with Cade. No need to fire Jordan up over nothing.
“Listen, I’m going to cut right to the chase.” His expression is grim and worry makes my heart start pounding. “I don’t think you should come to Florida.”
“Oh.” My voice is small. My heart is sinking. “Okay.”
“Don’t get all butt hurt.” His voice is teasing, that smile coming back. “I have a better idea.”
Curiosity fills me. “What’s your better idea?”
“Do you have a passport?”
“Um, yeah. Got one two years ago when I went with friends to Mexico for a few days.”
“Perfect. That should work then.” He’s got this far away look on his face. Almost like he’s talking to himself.
“What should work?” I ask.
“I want you to come with me.” He pauses. “To England.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” he says with a nod.
England? Really? “When?”
“We’re playing an exhibition game in London at Wembley Stadium a week from this Sunday. What do you think?” He lifts his brows.
My mind is racing with the possibilities—and the obstacles. I wish I could just pick up on a whim and go wherever I want, whenever I want to, but I don’t have that luxury. “I-I don’t know if I could get the time off.”
“Don’t you get vacation time?”
“Well, yeah. I get one week a year.” As in, I have five paid days off. “But usually we have to request the time off at least a month in advance.”
“Think they could make an exception?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, chewing on my lower lip.
I go quiet for a moment, thinking of all the things I’d need to do before I leave—if I even can leave, when Jordan finally asks, “Do you want to go to London with me?”
He sounds so unsure, and that’s unusual for Jordan Tuttle. He was—and still is—the most confident person I’ve ever known. He just always makes everything he does look so damn easy.
Throw a touchdown and win the game? He can do that.
Pass that test with an A yet never bothered to study? He can do that too.
Pursue his dream career with pure determination and end up playing for the NFL like it’s no big deal? Yep, he sure did that.
He can do anything he sets his mind to.
“Yes,” I tell him with a faint smile. “Yes, I definitely want to go to London with you. I’ve always wanted to go there.”
His smile is one of pure relief. “We can make this work.”
“Easy for you to say.” I’m teasing, but then again, I’m not. It is easy for him to say. It’s not so easy when I’m living a normal life and can’t take off whenever I want.
If you would’ve stayed with Jordan through it all, maybe you’d be his wife. Maybe you’d be traveling everywhere with him right now.
I push that nagging voice to the corner of my brain.
“Just put in for some vacation time or whatever,” he says.
“It’s hard to do it so last minute, though. They’ll need to find someone to cover for me,” I explain.
“And that might be difficult?”
“Sometimes.” Truthfully? I don’t know. But I’ve seen management scramble when someone calls in sick before, especially when it’s for an unexpected and extended period of time.
“I really want you to go,” he says in that determined voice I instantly recognize. “We could stay for a few extra days. Explore the city.”
Hope fills me, along with a healthy dose of excitement. “That sounds amazing,” I say softly.
He brings his phone closer to his face, and it’s like a shock to my system. Will I ever get over how handsome he is? “I’ve never been to London before.”
“Me either.” I’ve never really traveled out of the U.S., minus my extended weekend trip to Mexico with some of my girlfriends. It was for a friend’s bachelorette trip. We all saved up, shared one hotel room at a resort, and had the time of our lives. I got a little wild and crazy and hooked up with an extremely drunk, extremely cute guy from South Carolina. I liked his drawl. He liked my ass. I’ve never had a one-night stand before until then. Once I returned home, I never spoke to him again. It was a match made in wild-weekend-in-Mexico heaven.
“We could stay in a swank hotel,” Jordan says, knocking me from my thoughts.
I almost laugh, keeping my gaze fixed on him. Why am I dwelling on some drunk guy from my past when I can focus on this very gorgeous, sweet man talking to me at this very moment? “Swank, huh?”
“We’re provided rooms during the trip, but I could find another hotel. Somewhere nicer.” His voice goes deeper. “More private.”
The look in his eyes says it all. He’s envisioning many hours in that hotel bed. With me.
So am I.
With him.
“I want to sightsee, not just spend the entire time in bed,” I tease, going for bold. It feels almost…weird to talk to Jordan this way, since that sort of thing used to embarrass me when I was a shy teen.
But now, screw it. I’m a grown woman. I’m not going to play coy.
He smirks. “We can sightsee and spend plenty of time in bed,” he reassures. “Trust me.”
His words take hold of my heart, squeezing it tight. I’m desperate to trust him. To trust in him.
To trust in us.
The weekend went by so fast I barely had time to think, let alone sleep. We flew into Florida, practiced our asses off and sweated our asses off since it was so damn humid, and then proceeded to destroy the opposing team. We went out and celebrated at a brand new nightclub that wanted us there—specifically me—but I bailed after an hour. I had no interest in drinking, and definitely no interest in meeting any women.
Overall, the weekend was good. Only thing missing was Amanda.
It’s Monday and I’m home now. Arrived only an hour ago and I’m already itching to see her. It’s barely four in the afternoon, so she’s still working.
As proud as I am of her career success, I can admit to myself I resent the hell out of her job. When I want to do something with her, treat her by taking her somewhere special with me, her job is the roadblock that reminds me of what we could’ve had if she’d just stuck by my side.
I know without a doubt we’d still be together if she hadn’t broken up with me. We’d probably even be married by now.
But would I have been a total jerk and not let her pursue a career? I can provide her with anything she wants, but would I have convinced her not to work, just so I could have her all to myself?
That’s kind of an asshole move. And though I used to be a complete and total asshole when I was younger, I like to think I’m not that same guy anymore.
Unable to stand it any longer, I finally hop in my SUV and head for her workplace. The drive should’ve only taken me twenty minutes but ended up being almost an hour. Lots of stop and go traffic on the freeway that tested my patience.
I have none right now. None whatsoever.
I’m dying to see her.
Finally, I pull into the parking lot right at five o’clock, and I spot her immediately. She’s waving at her friend as they part ways, her steps determined as she starts heading for the bus stop that’s located right in front of the wellness center. She’s got on the red polo and black pants outfit again, and her hair is pulled back into a simple braid, little wisps of dark hair catching the breeze as she walks. When she draws closer, I roll down my window and call out her name.
She comes to a sudden stop, her eyes widening when she spots me. Without hesitation, she jogs toward the car, her eyes sparkling, her smile huge.
“Hi.” She sounds breathless, and unable to help myself, I lean my head out the window, brush her mouth with mine. “What are you doing here?”
“Get in,” I tell her, ignoring her question. She can’t figure out why I’m here? I want to see her.
I want her.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Get in and I’ll show you,” I practically growl. Having her so close is making me impatient. We’re wasting time with idle chitchat when we could already be in my car and halfway pulled out of the parking lot by now.
“So bossy,” she murmurs just before she rounds the car and slips into the passenger side of my Range Rover. The door slams and her scent fills the confines of my car, making me feel a little drunk.
Without thought I reach for her just as she leans in my direction, like she’s expecting me. I curl my hand around her nape and pull her mouth to mine. Her soft lips part easily and I delve my tongue inside, my dick instantly hard. It doesn’t take much for Amanda to arouse me.
It never really has.
She breaks the kiss first, even more breathless now. “We’re making out in the parking lot of my work.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I touch her cheek, stroke her jaw. Her skin is soft. Silky. Her lips are plump, a little red from our kiss.
So I kiss her again.
“A very bad thing,” she says after she pulls away from me. “I already feel like I’m on their shit list for asking about taking vacation time at such short notice.”
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