He was just kidding, anyway. I knew that.
We both did.
I snuck another sidelong look.
Didn’t we?
11
Andrew
I showed up at her house again on Friday night.
I wasn’t trying to be some stalker or something, but honestly...time was running out.
That concert she was planning on going to—the one where she’d put her ridiculous lessons into action? That was tomorrow night.
Tomorrow.
And much as I’d thought I’d gotten through to her earlier this week, she’d spent the past two days avoiding me.
I knew it. She knew it. And at any other time I might not have called her out on it. I might have given her space.
But tomorrow night was the night. This girl was going to flirt with a notorious player. Or she was going to try, at least. She was bound and determined to get that loser’s attention.
Best case scenario—she got it. I had to believe that a girl as smart as Simone would see past Tony’s looks and his attitude or whatever it was that had made her think that he was something special.
But when would she realize he wasn’t some amazing guy who deserved to be with her? That was the question that nagged at me.
After he’d messed with her? After he’d hurt her? After he broke her heart?
Anger had me stretching my neck to the side trying to loosen the tension that two hours on a treadmill had done nothing to ease.
Because that was just the best case scenario. What if she didn’t get his attention? I hated to think about what that would do to her already low self-esteem, and I hated even more that it would likely mean her infatuation would still persist.
If she never got to know the loser, she couldn’t figure out what me and Jax and Rose already knew, even though Rose and I were taking Jax’s word for it.
This Tony guy didn’t deserve a girl like Simone.
Maybe I didn’t either, but at least I was trying. I was here and I was trying to help her see just how amazing she was...and some schmuck with a guitar was the one who’d have a chance with her tomorrow night.
Jealousy blazed to life as I waited on her doorstep and stewed.
I’d stopped trying to deny this sensation. It was jealousy, plain and simple. I wanted Simone to look at me like that—like I was the only guy she saw when she walked into a party.
Like I was someone special.
The door opened and her dad welcomed me in with a hearty pat on the back.
Her dad liked me.
His daughter?
That remained to be seen. But time was ticking and I was...desperate.
That’s right. I was desperate. For the first times since my dad died I actually felt a connection with someone new. I actually wanted a connection with someone new.
Was it scary?
Definitely.
But it was something real. And after years of anything but, real felt...good. It felt right. It was terrifying, and it was surreal, but it was also right. I knocked once before letting myself in. I’d been here enough recently that I was starting to feel comfortable in her home.
Maybe too comfortable.
“Andrew!” She wrapped her terry-cloth robe tighter around her middle, her eyes wide and her hair up in some sort of towel turban. “You’re worse than Jax.” She came over and slammed the door shut in my face.
“Sorry.” I mumbled it to the door, but that was the most I was capable of because...Simone. Shower. Robe. Nearly naked.
Me brain no work no more.
All the blood in my body was most definitely not rushing to my brain. I took a deep breath. A slow inhale. By the time she opened the door again, fully clad in supremely unsexy baggy pajama pants and a loose-fitting T-shirt, I was pleased to report that I was once more capable of speech.
“Hey,” I said as I walked past her into the room.
I didn’t say I was capable of eloquent speech.
“Hi.” She shut it behind me and moved over to a wall full of DVDs with a hand flourish worthy of Vanna White. “What are you in the mood for?” she teased.
You.
I swallowed that word. She wasn’t ready.
Heck, I wasn’t ready.
We’d been getting closer with every second we spent together and she was light years more comfortable around me today than she was just last week. But that didn’t mean she was ready for me to make a move.
But that didn’t mean I was ready to sit back and let her make a move on some other guy, either.
I saw those telltale magazines scattered on her bed. “Studying?”
Her lips hitched up at the corners at my mild tone. “Something like that.”
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
She flashed me a look I couldn’t quite read before ducking her head. “Sort of.”
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans as I studied her. “What are you nervous about? You’ve gotten pretty great at talking to me.”
She laughed. “Yeah, but that’s because we’re…”
I stared at her as she trailed off, my stomach churning because I knew what she was going to say. “What are we?”
My voice was gruffer than intended and she blinked.
“We’re starting to be...friends,” she said, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. Her gaze moved up to meet mine. “Aren’t we?”
Friends. There was the word I really hadn’t wanted to hear come out of her lips.
Had it started off with me wanting to be her friend?
Maybe.
Ah heck, who was I kidding?
No.
Whatever had piqued my interest in this girl, it hadn’t been the need for friendship. There might have been some truth to it like there would be some truth in a starving man saying he wouldn’t mind a little nibble.
It was the understatement of the century and it made me irrationally angry because…
Was that still how she saw me? As a friend?
I watched her pop a movie in and get settled in to what was now ‘our spots’ on her bed. I didn’t even take notice of what movie started to play because...this was it.
The last
