Forever: A Friends Novel

by Monica Murphy

  “You make too many excuses for him.”

  Oops, Livvy is a mind reader.

  She sends me a stern look as I carefully fold the note and stash it in my backpack before shutting my locker. “I’m exercising tough love on you right now,” she says. “And I hate to say this, but he probably doesn’t deserve another chance. You’re too good for him.”

  “I was waiting for him to do something like this.” We start walking toward our first period classes, ignoring the early morning chaos that surrounds us in the hall. “I know how he operates. He’s like an animal who needs to retreat in the woods and lick his wounds until he’s fully healed.”

  Livvy makes a face. “That sounds disgusting.”

  “Go with me here,” I say with an irritated sigh. “Anyway. He’s back. He’s ready. And I think—I think I’m ready to hear what he has to say.”

  “That must’ve been some note,” Livvy says, her eyes sparkling, though she’s still frowning. “Maybe you should let me read it.”

  “No freaking way,” I say vehemently, making her laugh.

  Some things are better kept private.

  I’m in American Government during sixth period when someone delivers a dreaded yellow slip from the office to my teacher Mr. Woodward. He reads the note, his eyes widening beneath his thick glasses before he lifts his head, his gaze locking on me. “Mrs. Maddox would like to see you in her office, Amanda.”

  Oh. Shit. My stomach bubbles with nerves as I gather my things, shove them all into my backpack and go to his desk, taking the slip from him before I leave the class.

  The hallway is quiet as I make my way toward the office. So quiet I can hear my Converse sneakers squeak across the floor’s shiny surface. I’m about to round the corner and turn right toward the main office when someone grabs my arm and pulls me deep into an alcove that’s tucked just beneath the stairs that leads to the teacher’s lounge.

  I recognize his touch, his scent, the heat of his body immediately.

  It’s Jordan.

  Of course.

  “You scared me.” I slap lightly his chest and he takes a step back, away from my still-waving hands. “Let me go.”

  “Did you get my note?”

  “Yes.” I stare up at him, hating how good he looks. “I thought you were going to send me one every single day because you knew I wasn’t ready to talk to you face to face yet.”

  Jordan shrugs. “I got impatient and I wanted to see you.”

  Argh. He makes it sound so simple. He drives me bananas. “I can’t stay here, Jordan. I need to go see Mrs. Maddox.”

  He smirks, and it’s the sexiest thing ever. Gah. “More PDA trouble, Winters?”

  “Stop.” I shove him this time but he barely moves. “Seriously, Jordan. I have to go. She called me to her office.”

  “I called you to her office.” He points his thumb at his chest.

  I lean against the wall, confused by his admission. “What do you mean?”

  “I, um, convinced someone who works in the office to fill out one of those slips to get you out of class. Looks like it worked.” His expression is smug. He’s very pleased with himself.

  I, on the other hand, am not pleased with him at all.

  “You only did that because you knew I wouldn’t willingly go with you anywhere,” I tell him, completely irritated by his bold move.

  “True.” He tips his head toward me, his expression solemn. “I messed up. But I also took this time away from you to really think about what I want, and what I want to give to you.”

  “Oh really.” My voice is flat and I drop my backpack at my feet so I can cross my arms. “What have you been doing the past three weeks while you’ve ignored me, huh, Jordan?”

  “A lot. I checked out a few colleges. I flew up to Oregon again with my father and we met with the coaches, but he finally realizes I don’t want to go there. So he’s on board with my decision.”

  “What’s your decision?”

  “USC. That’s where I’m dying to go. I went and toured their facilities, met with the coaches, and it looks like I’m in.” He grins, and I’m so tempted to throw my arms around him, I almost do.

  I stop myself just in time.

  “That’s wonderful,” I say, my voice weak. I really am happy for him. “You’re getting everything you wanted.”

  “Not quite.” His smile turns bashful and he shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I fucked up with you, Amanda. I should’ve followed after you that night at the party.”

  My heart cracks at hearing his words. “I didn’t like hearing you tear yourself down.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Well, you should stop. It’s annoying. And worse, it’s untrue. You’re not an asshole. You’re not like your father. You’re a good guy.” I stare into his eyes, desperate to make him believe me. “I wish you could see it.”

  “You’re the only one who ever does see it,” he admits softly.

  He’s breaking my heart I swear.

  “Did you and Lauren ever resolve your—mutual problem?” It’s probably none of my business, but I have to know what’s going on.

  Jordan sighs and runs his hand through his hair, messing it up thoroughly. He’s wearing a black Nike hoodie and jeans, and I want to jump him. Like usual. “Sort of.”

  Vague as usual. “What do you mean?”

  His gaze locks with mine. “I talked to Candace. And then I talked to my dad. I told them both I knew what was going on and that they needed to stop, or I’d tell my mother.”

  My mouth drops open and I squeak. Then immediately slap my hand over my mouth to keep anymore unwanted sounds from escaping. “Are you serious?” I ask, my voice muffled.

  “Yeah. I don’t know if it helped anything, but I realized you and Lauren were right. I can’t just stand by and let my father get away with his selfishness.”

  I drop my hand from my face. “Do you think the conversation helped?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. My father kicked me out of his office. Candace told me I can’t stop her from seeing my father because they’re in love. I did what I could.”

  I sigh. “At least you tried. That’s all that matters. You’re a good person, Jordan. Despite what you think, you can change. You have changed. You’re nothing like your fath—”

  Now it’s his turn to rest his hand over my mouth, silencing me. “Trust me. I’m exactly like my father. I also told him if he didn’t let me go to the college I wanted, I would tell my mother he cheated on her with the sister of my ex-girlfriend.”

  My eyes go wide. He still hasn’t removed his hand from my mouth and we watch each other. I’m sure he’s prepared for me to spit on him or whatever, but I don’t think less of him for doing what he did.

  More like he just stooped to his father’s level and dealt with him in a way the man understands. How else can Jordan make his point?

  “It was a low move, but I don’t give a shit. It got me what I want.” His gaze is imploring as he continues to watch me. “Does that bother you, Amanda?”

  I slowly shake my head.

  “Do you think less of me?”

  Another shake of the head.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispers, his hand loosening around the front of my face.

  He notices my barely-there nod.

  “I’ve fallen in love with you.” He says those words and then drops his hand, taking a step back. Like he needs the distance. “Being away from you was hard, but I needed to do it. I had to work on myself before I could be worthy of you, Amanda. I know you don’t think that’s true, but I do. And I need you to respect that.”

  I’m still stuck on those first words he just said to me.

  I’ve fallen in love with you.

  My heart feels like it’s ready to soar straight out of my chest, I’m so giddy.

  “I respect it,” I whisper. “I respect you, Jordy.”

  He makes a face. Whoops, I think I just blew his mind. “D
id you just call me Jordy?”

  I giggle. “Do you mind me calling you that?”

  “Uh, maybe? Maybe not?” I’m thinking he doesn’t know how to answer. “If I let you call me that, will you forgive me?”

  “Always.” Oh, I probably shouldn’t have said that, but…

  Who cares.

  “Or have I run out of chances?” His expression turns somber. “I understand if I have. I get it. I don’t deserve another one.”

  It’s my turn to rest my hand over his mouth to shut him up. “Stop,” I murmur, giving his face a gentle squeeze. “You have to stop running away from me every time things get difficult, Jordan. I can’t keep doing this.” He nods. “If something bad happens, come to me. I won’t turn you away. We can work on your problems—and my problems—together.” I drop my hand from his face before I whisper, “I’ve fallen in love with you, too.”

  He smiles, and his entire face lights up. I remember thinking how I’ve never seen him so happy than at the end of his last game, but that’s not true.

  Right now, stuck in this dark alcove with me at school during sixth period, just after he admitted he loved me and I just admitted that I love him. This is the happiest I’ve ever seen Jordan Tuttle in my life.

  This.

  Right now.

  I don’t want to ever forget this moment.

  We’re in the back of a limo, just Amanda and me. She somehow convinced me to take her to winter formal and considering it’s our last one before we graduate and I get to bring the girl I’m in love with as my date, I figured I could tolerate one stupid formal school dance.

  Turns out I don’t regret going to this dance at all. When I went to pick Amanda up at her house and she greeted me at the door wearing a short, form-fitting dark blue velvet dress, I wondered how I was going to be able to make it through the night without grabbing her and doing something vulgar. She smelled so good, and her hair and makeup and that dress…Jesus.

  I was done for and we hadn’t even left her house yet.

  The dance was fun, loud and crowded and full of bad music. I sat out the fast dancing and watched Amanda bounce around on the dance floor with her friends. More often than not, I was checking the hem of her dress, waiting for it to fly too high and give me a covert shot of her panties.

  Then I got nervous and decided to go out there so I could protect her from other perverts’ prying eyes. I couldn’t be the only one checking her out.

  Every slow dance belonged to me. I held her as close as I could without getting busted by Mrs. Maddox. She seems pretty lax at school dances, which is mind blowing. I saw plenty of grinding going on during the fast songs and the slow songs, but it’s like everyone turns a blind eye.

  There was only an hour left when I convinced Amanda that we should leave early. How did I convince her? I whispered all of the many dirty things I wanted to do to her when we get back to my place and she blushed prettily, squeezed my hand and said she was ready to go.

  And that’s how I ended up in the back of this limo—she said she didn’t want a limo, but I wanted to pull off this winter formal thing right—with Amanda. She’s practically sitting in my lap and my hand is on her thigh, fingers gliding forward so they can rest between her legs. Her skin is warm and smooth and the heels of her shoes are pressing into my knee, but I don’t give a shit.

  All I can think about is touching Amanda like this. I swear I can feel the heat from between her thighs and my fingers crawl higher, beneath the hem of her dress, farther and farther until I’m brushing against damp lace and she’s breathing so hard I’m worried she might pass out.

  “Jordan,” she moans just before her mouth crashes into mine. I shove the dress higher, not caring about keeping this discreet, my fingers delving beneath her thin panties to stroke her delicate flesh.

  She’s coming so fast I hardly have time to react, and then she’s laughing against my mouth, a sigh of relief escaping her once she’s come down off her high.

  “I’ve been waiting for that all night,” she murmurs against my lips.

  “I barely touched you.”

  “But you know how to touch me just right.” She gives me a smacking kiss and then I’m removing my hand from her panties and she’s tugging her dress down over her thighs. She’s curled up next to me and I hold her close as we ride back to my house, which is thankfully very empty. No parental units in sight.

  Tonight is special. Tonight is the first time Amanda and I are going to have sex. She wanted it to happen the day we admitted we were in love with each other, but I held her off. I didn’t want to rush it. I wanted the moment to be memorable. Romantic.

  She told me I was a total cornball and I didn’t deny it.

  “You smell amazing,” she whispers against my neck just before she starts kissing it. The suit and tie I’m not used to, and it feels like I’m choking, especially when she slings her thigh over mine and starts climbing on top of me. I try to hold her back and she mock pouts at me, her dark hair falling into her eyes. “Why did you push me away?”

  “We’re almost to my house. You want me to walk out of the limo with a huge tent in my pants?”

  Amanda bursts out laughing. “I don’t care if you don’t.”

  “Well, I care.” I sound like a frumpy old man, but I can’t help it. I’m not having sex with her for the first time in the backseat of a limo. That’s every teenager cliché come true.

  “Aw, Jordy. You’re no fun.”

  I scowl at her and she bursts out laughing. Yes. She’s seriously taken to calling me Jordy. And it freaking sucks. She knows I hate it too. That’s why she keeps doing it.

  I make like I’m going to tickle her and she dives out of the way, trying to avoid my groping hands. But she’s not fast enough and there’s not enough room in the back of the limo. I grab a hold of her and start tickling her ribs, making her squirm and giggle and try to fight me. Us messing around like this makes me hard as a rock and when I tackle her, pinning her so she’s lying flat across the seat, I slowly press against her, letting her feel just how she’s affecting me.

  Her eyes go wide and she arches against me, her skirt riding up. She spreads her legs, accommodating me, and my eyes want to roll back in my head, that feels so damn good.

  “I can feel you,” she whispers.

  “That’s what you do to me,” I whisper back.

  She starts giggling and I wonder if she drank from the flask Livvy brought to the dance. “Are you drunk?”

  “No way.” She shakes her head. “I took a tiny sip from Livvy’s flask, but that stuff was nasty.”

  “Mmmhmm.” I thrust against her again, my entire body going tight and making me regret the move, but then she slings her arm around my neck and pulls me down for one of the hottest kisses of my life.

  So hot, we don’t even notice that the car has come to a complete stop until a few, kiss-filled minutes later.

  “Think he tried to open the door for us and got a show?” Amanda asks with a lift of her brows.

  “I hope to hell not,” I growl, hating the idea of anyone seeing Amanda like that. No one else can look at her that way.

  She’s mine.

  I lift myself off her and she sits up, pulling on her dress so she’s covered, then smoothing her hair. Her lips are swollen and her cheeks are flushed. She’s gorgeous. And soon I’ll have her naked in my bed and I’ll really make her mine.

  Once and for all.

  I’ve been so nervous thinking about my first time actually having sex that when the moment is finally here, it’s shocking how at ease I am about the entire thing.

  The dance was so much fun. I’d never come to the winter formal before, and having Jordan Tuttle as my date was just…perfect. He looks dreamy in a dark suit and tie, and he brought me a beautiful white rose wrist corsage. I pinned a white rose boutonniere on his lapel and then we posed while my parents and Trent took photos on their phones. Well, Dad busted out his fancy camera first and took a bunch of photos, and then he let Mom
and Trent have at it with their phones. Trent just wanted to get bad pictures of us so he can post them on his Instagram later, the little jerk.

  I gave my phone to my mom and she took a bunch more for me. Then I opened the Snapchat app and took a selfie of the two of us together. I didn’t have to do any retakes either. The photo was perfect. I added a caption before I posted it to my story.

  My date for winter formal. #cuddlewithTuttle

  I posted it to Instagram too.

  Yeah, I have possessiveness issues, just like Jordan does.

  But now we’re at Jordan’s house and we’re in his bedroom. He’s undone his tie and shed his jacket, rolling up the sleeves on his shirt, and wow, wow, wow is he hot.

  If I think about what happened earlier in the limo, I’ll get embarrassed. I can’t believe how fast he made me…you know. All night at the dance had felt like foreplay. All the slow dance and teasing and flirting. The laughing and kissing and spending time with friends and hand-holding and heated looks across the table. Yeah, one big night of foreplay, so of course when he slips his fingers in my panties, I go off like a rocket.

  Like I said, embarrassing. But only a little bit. I feel comfortable enough with Jordan that I can get over the embarrassment pretty easily. Besides, the boy knows just how to touch me.

  Somehow, while I was lost in my thoughts, Jordan put on music and lit a couple of candles. He also got rid of his shirt, kicked off his shoes and is now lying across his bed wearing only the black dress pants, patting the empty spot beside him.

  “Come join me.”

  It’s not a question, it’s a demand, and I don’t mind, because I want to join him. I start to step out of my shoes but he slowly shakes his head.

  “Keep the shoes on.”

  I’m smiling as I crawl onto the bed and lie beside him. He scoops me into his arms and holds me close, our mouths meeting in a slow, sweet kiss. He touches my face, his fingers gentle, his lips and tongue teasing, and my body instantly reacts, wanting more.

  So much more.