Just Friends

by Monica Murphy

  “No.” She looks away from me.

  “Amanda.” I wish she would tell me what’s going on instead of leaving me in the dark. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  Her shoulders sag and her lips part. It’s a look of such utter defeat that for about five seconds I feel super guilty for putting her through this.

  But then the guilt disappears and I’m grabbing her hand, practically dragging her out of her car. “We’ll have fun,” I tell her. “I promise.”

  Amanda mutters a few choice words under her breath as we walk to the front door, but for the most part she’s agreeable. As in, she’s not running back to the car screaming, so I take that as a good sign. I hit the doorbell and stand up straight, shaking my hair back before I check Amanda to make sure she’s okay.

  Besides the terrified glimmer shining in her eyes, she looks…great. Despite being a former band geek, she makes everything she wears look effortless. Her outfits are simple yet effective, style-wise. And I pay attention to this stuff. I follow lots of fashion and beauty bloggers on YouTube.

  Tonight she’s wearing an oversized white T-shirt with a wide neck that keeps slipping off her shoulder and flashing a glimpse of her pale pink bra strap. The most delicate gold chain circles her neck, a tiny pendant hanging from it; I can’t make out what it is. Her cropped jeans fit her long legs to perfection and I have serious envy over her cute black sandals.

  Ugh. The longer I look at her, the more she makes me feel like a total fail.

  “Do I look all right?” I ask her. My outfit seems lame next to hers. I’m wearing denim shorts I got at American Eagle on clearance and a soft blue T-shirt with a white moon and stars scattered all over the front. My hair is down and my neck is sort of sweaty, which means my makeup is sort of sweaty too. I swipe a finger beneath each eye to pick up any smudged eyeliner or mascara and turn to face Amanda.

  “You look great.” Her smile is soft. Nervous. “Do I look okay? Not that I care. I have no one to impress.”

  Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that. “You look more than okay. I want your shoes.”

  She laughs. “I’ll let you borrow them sometime.”

  The door swings open at that exact moment and we both turn to find Tuttle standing there shirtless, wearing only a pair of dark rinse jeans that hang so low on his hips they give us a glimpse of almost everything he has to offer.

  I can’t stop staring. The boy has muscles for days. I know Amanda is staring too. And Tuttle can’t help but love our reactions.

  “You girls looked ready to make out before I so rudely interrupted.” He swings the door open wider, smirking. I notice he has a shirt clutched in his hand and I wonder when he’s going to put it on. “Want to come in and put on a show for us?”

  “You cannot be freaking serious right now,” Amanda practically spits out, her expression enraged. Oh, Tuttle just stepped in it.

  But he just laughs as he steps forward, tugging on the ends of her hair. His fingers come so close to actually touching her boob she gasps. “You know I’m just teasing.” His voice is low and rather intimate. I almost feel like I’m interrupting their special moment. “Get your pretty ass in here, Mandy. You too, Olivia.”

  There he goes saying my full name again. Though I don’t bother calling him out on it. I’m too anxious over being let into the inner sanctum. This is a big deal. Huge. Partying with the football players after a Friday night game? Hardly anyone gets to do this. Now, granted, our boys haven’t played their best during the course of my high school years, but they are still considered gods at school. Even more so than our basketball team, and they’ve won a few regional championships and they almost won state last year.

  I think it’s their size. All the football players are so big. Intimidating. Handsome.

  Fine. “Handsome” is a word Mom would use. They’re gorgeous. Hot as hell. You get what I’m saying.

  “Want something to drink?” Tuttle asks us like the polite host he is. I say yes while Amanda bites out a hostile no, and he sends her a look as he shuts the front door. One that says, chill out, and I really hope she does.

  The house is so quiet. We walk through the living room as Tuttle leads us to the kitchen and I look around, wondering where everyone is. The last time I came here I couldn’t really see the house considering there were so many people crammed inside. Now I can really take in the beautiful furniture that looks brand-new, the giant paintings hanging on the walls. The hardwood floors gleam, and thick, geometrically designed rugs are scattered throughout the rooms. A huge flat screen TV hangs above the sleek fireplace in the living room, three times as big as the one we have in my family room. His house looks straight out of a design magazine. Perfect. Beautiful.

  Cold.

  “Everyone’s outside,” Tuttle tells us as we enter the kitchen. He tugs the T-shirt he’d been holding over his head before he goes straight for the giant stainless steel fridge and pulls out two bottles of beer. “I think they want to swim.”

  “I didn’t bring a suit,” Amanda says.

  He sends her a wicked grin. “You don’t need one, pretty girl.”

  My stomach flutters with nerves. Yeah, I’m not jumping into Tuttle’s pool naked. No way.

  “We’re not going to skinny dip in your pool, Tuttle,” Amanda snaps, taking the beer from him. Guess she wanted something to drink after all. “That would be stupid.”

  “No, Mandy, that would be fun. Not that you’re being much fun tonight.” He grabs a beer for himself and starts toward the French doors that lead to the back yard. “Make yourself at home, ladies,” he calls from over his shoulder before he slams the door so hard the glass rattles.

  “What’s your problem?” I ask her the moment he’s gone. “He’s being nice.”

  “He’s being a perv,” she mutters. She takes a long swig from her beer then sets it on the counter. “No way are we getting into that pool naked, Liv. Next thing we know, we’re drunk, we don’t know what we’re doing and we’re getting gangbanged by the football team.”

  I laugh, but it’s not real. And the glare she sends me shuts me up quick. “They wouldn’t do that,” I say, my voice small.

  “We don’t know that for sure. Group mentality is a crazy thing. I’m not risking it.” She points at me. “And neither are you.”

  I stand straighter and salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Liv! Seriously, you are not leaving my side tonight. We don’t know what might happen.”

  I know she’s serious. She’s making some valid points, things I don’t want to think about, because come on. Who wants to dwell on the bad stuff? These guys are nice. Funny. We have an opportunity here tonight and I don’t want to waste it. Meaning, I plan on spending time with Ryan—maybe even one-on-one time with Ryan. Though I promised I wouldn’t leave Amanda tonight. And I’ll keep that promise too.

  But if Tuttle wants some alone time with her and she’s down for it…

  “Maybe we should leave,” she says, glancing around the gorgeous kitchen nervously. “This house and everyone in it intimidates the hell out of me.”

  “No. No way.” I grab her arm to keep her from bolting. I swear she looks that freaked out. “We’re not leaving. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise. Let’s just drink our beers for liquid courage and then we’ll go outside. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She gives a jerky nod. Blows out a harsh breath. “Fine. Okay.”

  We start chugging our beers in earnest when the back door opens and Ryan enters the kitchen. My heart rate picks up speed and I polish off my beer in record time, smiling at him in what I hope is an enticing way. “Ryan! Hi!”

  Oh God. I sound way too excited.

  He heads straight for me, his eyes on me and no one else. “Livvy.” He pulls me into his arms and hugs me way too briefly. It’s just a tease of a touch, a hint of warm skin and soft fabric and his intoxicating scent. I contemplate lunging for him, but that is just way too crazy. “We’re so glad you made it.”


  “Who else is glad I’m here?” My tone is flirtatious and so is his smile.

  “Everyone. Come outside. I think we’re going to swim.” He takes my hand and starts to drag me through the still-open door. I glance over my shoulder at Amanda and give her a head tilt, one that hopefully says come on.

  Luckily enough she follows after us.

  “Don’t forget Amanda,” I tell him as he leads me outside.

  “Tuttle’s already staked his claim,” Ryan says, sending me a quick, warm look, one that makes my stomach tumble. “I’m just staking mine too.”

  Oh. Wow.

  There is a cluster of beefy-looking boys sitting at the hot tub wearing just swim trunks and dunking their feet in the bubbling water. They all say hi when Ryan demands them to and I wave in response, face-checking each one of them. They’re mostly seniors and I’ve gone to school with a few of them for what feels like forever, yet I’ve rarely talked to them once we started middle school.

  This is what happens. You cluster off into your groups during the early teen years and it’s so hard to break out of that predetermined clique. Some don’t want to. Most band peeps are perfectly happy hanging with their fellow band members. They all date each other, hang out together…yet Amanda broke away from them and now she’s with me.

  And now we’re with the football team. We’re not the only girls here. I see a few cheerleaders all cuddled together on an outdoor couch, and they’re watching us. Assessing us.

  Probably hating on us. Not that I’m going to let it bother me.

  “You want to swim?” Ryan asks when he turns to face me. He’s still holding my hand and watching me with the sweetest look in his eyes. Like he’s so incredibly happy that I’m here with him. My heart swells and I know my answer is going to disappoint him.

  “I didn’t bring a suit.” I frown, hoping he thinks I’m sad, though I’m really not. Amanda’s right. Swimming in our undies with the football team isn’t the brightest idea.

  His smile never wavers. “I don’t think that will be a problem. No one’s gonna protest if you swim naked, Livvy. I know I definitely won’t.”

  I let go of his hand and give him a shove, and he stumbles back laughing. “Hate to disappoint you, but I’m not skinny dipping in Tuttle’s fancy pool.”

  And it is so freaking fancy. It’s a huge rectangle-shaped infinity pool that’s lit up so the water is a vibrant turquoise and it has a sleek waterfall. I remember lots of people fell into the pool at the last party. Once that started happening, clothes went flying and it was a total free-for-all.

  I didn’t participate in that particular event. I was too drunk and too stressed out last time I was at Tuttle’s. Not tonight, though. Tonight is filled with endless possibilities.

  I’m not going to let a one of them pass me by, either.

  “Tell me…” Ryan pushes a wayward strand of hair away from my face, then tucks it behind my ear, his finger lingering on my skin. “Did you really like watching me play tonight?”

  I giggle. Only because I’m on my fourth beer and I’m not looking to stop. My entire body feels like it’s buzzing with electricity and I blame the alcohol. Oh, and the boy.

  Probably has more to do with the boy.

  He hasn’t left my side the entire night. Not even when the other girls tried to get his attention, and trust me, they tried a lot. Those cheerleaders are a persistent bunch. Yet he ignored them like they didn’t exist. Any time he talked to his friends, he made sure I was with him. Like I’m his girlfriend or something…

  “I’ve never really liked football,” I admit, glancing around as if I don’t want anyone else to hear my confession. Not that I care. I don’t think Ryan cares either. The way he’s watching me, his green eyes so intense, I don’t think he believes anything I’m saying. Is he even listening to me? “I don’t really understand it. I always get lost when I try to follow a game.”

  “I could teach you.” He touches the side of my face, his fingers drifting down my cheek so lightly I shiver. “Whatever you want to know, I’m game.”

  “I’m sure,” I drawl, hoping I sound flirtatious. We’re on the same couch the cheerleaders were on when we first arrived at Tuttle’s. We took over the spot as soon as the girls abandoned it and we’ve been cozily sitting together ever since.

  Most everyone has left Tuttle’s already. We’ve been here for hours, and while Amanda and I have stuck together most of the night along with Ryan, she up and disappeared on me about thirty minutes ago. I texted her almost immediately, and when she took way too long to answer, I started to panic.

  Guess the gangbang comment really got to me, as it should’ve. That’s serious business.

  But then she sent this:

  I’m okay. Didn’t feel so good. Tuttle put me up in a guest bedroom

  And I felt better. I also wondered if it was bullshit.

  I would bet good money she’s letting Tuttle touch her no-no square right about now.

  “I’m serious, Livvy.” Ryan’s deep voice fills my head and I lift my gaze to his. I like how he always calls me Livvy. How his green eyes seem to sparkle every time he looks at me. I especially like the warmth of his touch, the way his fingers dance over my skin like he can’t not touch me.

  That’s sort of hot. And swoony. And romantic.

  He’s been so attentive tonight. So…perfect. Maybe Amanda was right. He probably was tense and exhausted after the excessive practices they suffered through to get ready for tonight’s game. That’s why he was so horrible to me the last time we talked, why he kept ignoring me the past couple of weeks. They’ve been through a rough time.

  And now they all seem to be letting off steam tonight. A few of them are pretty drunk. Some are hanging out in the hot tub. No one really went into the pool after all, and I’m guessing they were disappointed that none of us girls—not even the cheerleaders—jumped into the water in just our undies or even, ahem, naked.

  Yeah. That so didn’t happen.

  “What do you think?” Ryan asks, his deep voice breaking into my wayward thoughts.

  “You’ll really give me football lessons?” It’s the last thing I want. But if it’s the only way I can spend extra time with him, I’ll take it.

  “Whatever you want to know, I’m here for you.” He leans in and nuzzles my cheek with his nose. “I’m an excellent teacher,” he murmurs.

  I suck in a breath and close my eyes. His mouth moves over my cheek, his breath warm on my skin, and I tilt my head toward his. Slightly calloused fingers slip beneath my chin and lift it so I meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, his full lips part, and it’s like the world just falls away. No more music, no more murmured voices and husky boy laughs. All I can see and feel and focus on is Ryan and his beautiful face, his fingers firm beneath my chin, his mouth poised just above mine.

  It’s finally happening. I’ve waited for this moment for what feels like forever. I’ve known Ryan for barely a month, but it’s been an exhilarating ride since I first met him at Em’s house.

  His mouth touches mine. Soft but sure. Warm, full lips. A whisper of breath, a murmur of sound. He lets go of my chin to cup my cheek and my lips part easily beneath his. He takes the kiss deeper in an instant and chills race over my skin when he tugs me closer. When he slips his hand into my hair. When he rests his other hand at my waist, his fingers toying with the hem of my shirt…

  “Get a room!”

  Laughter follows and we pull away from each other quickly, my breath coming fast, my head spinning from just one kiss. Or maybe it’s the alcohol too. I don’t know. All I know is that one simple kiss wasn’t enough.

  I want more.

  And from the way Ryan’s staring at me, his eyes slightly glazed, his perfect lips damp, I think he’s feeling the same way.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He stands and offers his hand. I take it, his long fingers curling around mine as he pulls me to my feet. We head to the back door, a few of the guys yelling and cheering us on, and I try my
hardest not to look in their direction, I’m so embarrassed.

  Ryan doesn’t seem bothered by any of it. We don’t say a word to each other as we walk through Tuttle’s house. I follow behind him, savoring the feel of my hand in his, curious over where he’s taking me. We pass through the rooms so quickly they’re like a blur and then we’re in a bedroom, Ryan shutting the door before he’s pulling me into his arms.

  His lips land on mine once more, and the kiss scorches all of my brain cells. His tongue is in my mouth, sliding against mine and I moan. He slips his hands beneath my shirt, his hot fingers burning my skin, and I squirm under his touch, wanting to get closer, wanting to get more of Ryan and his mouth and his hands and his body pressed against mine.

  “You drunk?” he asks after he breaks the kiss.

  “Maybe.” I nod, trying to catch my breath, but it’s no use. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t talk. I can only feel, and it all feels so incredibly good I don’t ever want this moment to stop.

  Ryan laughs and shakes his head, his gaze drifting over my face and settling on my lips. “You’re hot for it, aren’t you?” he whispers.

  I nod, another giggle escaping me before I clamp my lips shut. He’s right. I’m hot for him. I crave his touch so badly it makes my skin hot. Itchy. I try to touch his face, his shoulders, wherever I can grab him, but his strong arms wrap around me, stopping my attempts. His mouth is on mine as he walks me backwards and I go with him willingly until I’m falling, falling, falling. Onto a feather-soft bed that feels like a cloud when I finally land.

  Giggling yet again, I rise up on my elbows and contemplate him. Ryan stands at the foot of the bed watching me, his gaze intense. I drink him in greedily, loving how mussed his hair is. How swollen his perfect lips are. I lick my lips in anticipation and his gaze grows darker.

  What’s he waiting for? I’m definitely not putting up a fight. I’ve been waiting too long for this moment to happen. I’d start stripping right now if I wasn’t afraid I’d make a fool of myself because hello, I am a teeny bit drunk.