“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?
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.”
Jordan frowns at the server. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes.” He bobs his head up and down in some strange display of manic behavior. “Perhaps you would like to join him?”
“Perhaps another time,” Jordan says coolly, glaring at the waiter until he finally slinks off.
“What the hell was that about?” Ryan asks once the server’s out of earshot. “I don’t think I’ve seen your dad ever.”
“You haven’t known him very long,” Liv says just before she turns to Jordan. “Though I haven’t seen your father much either, and I’ve known you for what feels like forever.”
She’s right. I’ve gone to school with Jordan Tuttle since the dawn of time and I’ve yet to see his dad materialize anywhere. Not at open houses or back to school nights. Not at evening plays or holiday programs. Not at any of his football games, not at honor roll assemblies, not at any of it.
“He’s out of town a lot,” Jordan says through clenched teeth. I see a tic in his firm jaw, his eyes so dark they almost look black. He’s angry. I can feel the emotion radiating off of his tense body in giant waves. “Not big on family time.”
I want to reach out and touch him, offer some comfort, but he looks like he might shatter if I so much as say something, let alone touch him.
The next few minutes are agony. Liv and I try to make small talk, but it’s uncomfortable. Ryan has completely checked out and focuses on his phone. Jordan sits as still as a statue, only his eyes scanning the room every few minutes, like he’s trying to prepare for that excruciating moment when his dad will pop out of the background and terrorize all of us.
When the waiter returns with our appetizer, Jordan places my order as well as his own, offering me a tight smile after he finishes. The moment the server dashes off, Liv is setting her napkin on the table and sending me a look.
“I need to use the ladies,” she sing-songs. “Want to come with, Amanda?”
Nodding, I push out of my chair and set the cloth napkin on my chair before I follow Livvy to the back of the restaurant, where the bathrooms are. The moment we slip inside, Livvy zooms over to the giant mirror, checking her reflection before pulling a MAC Lip Glass out of her tiny purse and applying the gloss to her lips.
“Your boy got super tense,” she says, her gaze meeting mine in the mirror.
I go to the spot next to her and wash my hands. “I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Clearly he has daddy issues.” The knowing look she sends me makes my blood simmer.
I don’t answer. Her comment is rude. She totally has daddy issues, so who is she to talk? Or judge?
Maybe going on a double date with Ryan and Livvy was a big mistake.
I wish I had a drink. No mixed drink either. I need something strong, straight up. I don’t care what kind of alcohol, I need something to take the edge off. Soften me up. Instead I’m tense as hell, clutching my water glass so tight I bet it could shatter if I squeezed just a little more tighter. Ryan is trying his best to make conversation with me, but my terse responses—or worse, lack of response—is crapping him right out. To the point he’d rather pay attention to his phone while we wait for the girls to come back from the restroom.
Talking about me, I’d bet. Wondering at my reaction. My over-the-top behavior. I can hear Livvy now, wondering why I’m so cranky. I can hear Amanda too, defending me, saying I must be upset.
She would be correct.
My father is here, in this very restaurant on a Saturday night, when he should be home with my mother. His wife. Meaning he’s in town, with someone else instead of coming home—something he does a lot. I haven’t seen him in weeks. And the last time we actually made real eye contact, he was on his way out of the house as I was walking in. When he caught sight of me, his eyebrows had risen and he’d appeared surprised. Like he forgot I even existed.
My biggest dream is to forget his existence, but it never work
s. The rat bastard always pops up in the most inconvenient places.
Like this stupid restaurant while I’m on this stupid double date, when I wish I could be at home alone with Amanda.
I think of her and she magically appears. I watch as she and Livvy make their way back to our table. Heads turn as both girls pass, and I clutch my right hand into a fist, feeling protective. Primitive. I never feel that way about anyone, least of all some girl.
But she’s not just some girl. She’s Amanda Winters. I’ve had a ridiculous crush on her for years. Not just for her beauty—and she’s pretty, don’t get me wrong—but it’s her mind that I’m attracted to. She’s smart. And funny. She makes me smile and she makes me think. She challenges me. Half the time I think she doesn’t like me and that is a fucking challenge like no other. These last few weeks we’ve spent a lot of time together, and I am determined to make her fall in love with me.
Though what will that get us? Get her? Pain? Unhappiness? I don’t believe in love, not really. So why would I torture her—and myself?
I tell myself I don’t need her. But the more time we spend together, the more I’m starting to believe that’s not true.
They draw closer and I watch Mandy walk, her hips swaying gently. The dress she wears clings to her like a second skin, turning her body into long lines and subtle curves. I remember the times I’ve touched that body. How responsive she always is. The sounds she makes.
I need to quit reminiscing or I’ll be sporting a major boner soon. But I can’t stop thinking about her, about having her in my house, my room, my bed...
Makes me want to keep doing it. Keep her. Which is ridiculous. That sort of thing is what fucks up your life. Falling for someone, needing someone—you’ll only end up getting hurt.
I’ll be hurt. She will be too. This won’t end well.
Yet I can’t stop it.
She settles into the chair next to mine and I can smell her fragrance, delicate and sweet and infinitely Amanda. She smiles at me, her eyes full of fear, and I know I’ve acted like an asshole since I heard my father is here, but I can’t help myself. I won’t be able to ease the edge until I see him.
More than Friends - Monica Murphy Page 16
