- Home
- Jennifer Sucevic
Just Friends Page 6
Just Friends Read online
Page 6
“Nah, I’m good. Do you mind if I borrow Em for a minute? It won’t take long.”
Emerson’s mouth tumbles open as I bypass her and go straight to the boss.
Should have answered your damn phone, girl.
Stella glances around the restaurant and assesses the situation. “Sure thing, hun. I’ll cover for Em while she takes a short break.” Stella holds out her fuchsia tipped nails. “That order ready to go?”
Emerson grumbles under her breath as she rips off the top sheet from her notepad and hands it over before glancing around the crowded diner. “Are you sure you want me to take a break? We’ve had a steady flow of traffic all morning.”
Stella waves off Em’s concerns as she shoos us toward the back of the restaurant.
Not needing to be told twice, I lock my fingers around Emerson’s hand and drag her into the backroom where the staff takes their breaks and stores their personal belongings. As soon as we’re over the threshold, Em tugs her hand free and folds her arms under her breasts.
I can’t help but notice how the movement plumps her titties, making them look even rounder and softer than usual. I glance away before she can catch me checking her out.
“I’m in the middle of a shift, Reed. Whatever you need to talk about could have waited until later.”
I open my mouth to tell her about the plan I’ve concocted when she abruptly cuts me off.
“If this has anything to do with last night, I don’t want to discuss it.” Her thick ponytail swings back and forth as she shakes her head. “Ever.”
“It’s not about last night,” I lie.
“Okay.” Her shoulders fall and a rush of air escapes from her lips. “Good.”
When she stares at me expectantly, I mutter, “Maybe it has a little something to do with last night.”
“Reed—”
I hold up my hands, palms out. “Just hear me out, okay? That’s all I’m asking and then we won’t discuss the situation again.”
That’s probably another lie.
She presses her lips together but doesn’t shut me down which is an encouraging sign. Emerson may be small, but she’s fierce. I’ve learned that the hard way. Other than Mom, Em is the only other person I don’t want to be on the wrong side of. With anyone else, I wouldn’t give two fucks. But Em isn’t just anyone. I freaking hate when she’s pissed at me. It gets under my skin like an incurable rash. It doesn’t happen very often, but there have been a few times when we’ve butted heads.
Am I embarrassed to admit that I usually fold like a cheap house of cards where Emerson is concerned?
Nope. Not at all.
Does that necessarily make me a pussy?
Probably, but I can live with that.
I clear my throat. “I was thinking that you and I should go out.”
Now that I’ve dropped the bomb, I sit back and wait for her reaction.
It doesn’t take long.
“Go out?” She scrunches her nose like she doesn’t understand what those two words strung together mean. “Like…date?”
A relieved smile curls around the edges of my lips as I latch on to that answer. “Yes! That’s exactly what we should do. We’re going to be a couple.”
She studies me until I fidget under the relentlessness of her stare. A few chuckles fall from her lips. My expression falters when her laughter turns into full-belly guffaws and she practically doubles over.
This wasn’t exactly the response I was expecting from her.
Like at all.
Chapter Ten
Emerson
Go out with Reed?
“Now that’s funny,” I sigh, my voice still shaking as I rein in my amusement. “The last twelve hours have been pretty crappy, so thanks for the laugh.” I point toward the hallway. “I need to get back to work.” Dismissing him, I take a step toward the door.
Stella’s Diner is a popular breakfast spot and Saturday mornings are always slammed with customers. I’m sure Stella is running around like a chicken with her head cut off and she shouldn’t be. Ten months ago, she had a heart attack. It scared the hell out of all of us. Especially Hank. He tried persuading her to sell the place but she refused. Stella is named after her grandmother who opened the diner more than fifty years ago. I think she’d rather die working here than let the restaurant go. So, when I’m here, I try to take the load off her shoulders. She mans the cash register, Hank cooks in the kitchen, and I wait on the tables.
Which means that I’ve had enough of a break for now and need to get back to it. Just as I step past Reed, his fingers wrap around my bicep, halting me in my tracks. When I turn, he glares.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m sorry.” One of my brows shoots up. “That wasn’t a joke?”
Confusion flickers across his handsome face and I almost sigh.
It’s a face that has launched hundreds of broken hearts in both high school and college. My guess is that when he crashes upon the NHL scene later this year, it’ll be a thousand times worse. He’ll have endorsement deals that will thrust him into the national spotlight. My heart goes out to any woman stupid enough to fall under Reed Philips’ spell.
I love him to death—I really do—but the guy is a player. And that’s fine. How can I hold it against him? He’s twenty-two years old. Life is his oyster and he’s nowhere near ready to settle down. If I were in his shoes and had everything going for me, I’d probably feel the same way. For as long as I’ve known Reed, he’s never had to lift a finger to attract female attention. Girls swarm him whether he wants them to or not. The guy has way too many options for his own good.
I refuse to be one of those options.
The kiss from last night forces its way into my mind. As much as I’ve tried to pretend it didn’t happen, I can’t. But I don’t want Reed to know that. As far as he’s concerned, it’s already been forgotten. Reed is casual when it comes to the opposite sex. I know that better than most.
“No, it wasn’t. I’m serious, we should go out.”
I tilt my head, trying to wrap my mind around the conversation were having. “You don’t date, Reed,” I say slowly. “You’re too busy cycling through your harem of puck bunnies.”
“Give me a break, I don’t have a harem.”
I yank my arm from his grip. “We both know that you do.” When he remains silent, I continue, “Did you think I was oblivious?” I snort and wave my hand. “Please, everyone knows that you’ve slept your way through half the population at Southern.”
“Just the female half,” he mutters as if that makes it any better.
Newsflash, Reed—it doesn’t.
“And you want to go out with me,” I press a hand to the middle of my chest, “all of a sudden because…”
Reed’s gaze skitters away before darting back with a look of determination. I’ve seen it enough times to know when he’s going to get stubborn and dig in his heels. What I don’t understand is why.
“It’s the right thing to do,” he says obstinately.
“The right thing to do?” I shake my head and wrinkle my nose. “What are you even talking about?”
He steps closer. “Word has spread that you’re a virgin.”
My heart—the one that had started thumping harder with his proximity—drops to my toes. “You’re wrong.” I swallow thickly, unwilling to believe what he’s saying is true. “No one is talking about it.”
“Some of the guys on the team were asking about you this morning.”
I groan and rub my forehead.
This can’t be happening.
When I remain silent, he continues. “Do you have any idea how many assholes will come after you so they can be the first to get you in the sack?”
“No one is going to do that,” I whisper.
Reed lets loose a bark of laughter and I wince. “Of course they will!” He waggles a finger between us. “But that won’t happen if we’re together.”
Oh.
He’s not…
r /> He’s not interested in me like that. He’s trying to protect me just like he always does. I flinch, unsure why his offer feels like a slap in my face.
It shouldn’t. We’re friends. This is what he does. It’s his modus operandi.
Unable to hold his gaze, I glance away. “I don’t need your protection. I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
A shiver of longing dances down my spine when he invades my personal space. After last night, I’m more aware of him on a physical level than ever before. The golden hair that brushes against the back of his neck. The way his eyes flash and change hues with his mood. The muscles of his arms that flex and bunch when he moves. I don’t want to view Reed through a different lens. I want everything to remain the same between us. But I can’t stop my mind from tripping down that dangerous path.
“I’m just trying to help you, Em.”
I blow out a measured breath, hoping it will help gather my scattered thoughts. “And I appreciate it, but I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it is. No one cares about,” I drop my voice, “my virginity.”
Looking unconvinced, he presses his lips together. “If the guys on the team were talking about it, then other people know.”
I shrug, trying to downplay the situation. “It’s just them.” Except Brinley had mentioned something about it as well.
When I remain silent, he reaches out and lays his hands on my shoulders before giving them a gentle squeeze. “Whether you want to admit it or not, us going out is the simplest solution. No one will talk shit if you’re with me.”
Part of me agrees with the tactic. No one on this campus wants to mess with Reed. Everyone knows that he’s bound for the NHL and destined for greatness. He’s treated like a celebrity around here.
I understand why Reed is doing this and I appreciate the sentiment, but I can’t pretend he’s my boyfriend. Not after that kiss and the unwanted feelings he’s roused inside me.
My gaze reluctantly falls to his mouth.
Our relationship has never felt complicated. But right now, it does. And I hate that. Hate that it has to feel like this when we’ve always been such great friends.
“No.” I shake my head. “Everything will settle down. Maybe it’ll take a few days, but it’ll happen. We just need to be patient.” Then I add, because I need it to be true, “Trust me, my virginity isn’t that interesting.”
Exasperation rumbles up from his throat manifesting itself into a frustrated growl. With his hands still gripping my shoulders, he gives me a little shake. “Why do you have to be so stubborn? Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you? Just accept my offer and say thank you. Stop trying to be such a hard ass.”
“I’m not trying to be difficult,” I reply calmly. “I just don’t think it’s necessary. And this is about me so it should be my decision, right?”
His lips sink further into a frown. “What does it hurt for us to appear as a united front? Let’s cut this rumor off before it has a chance to gain traction. That’s all I’m saying.”
I sigh.
And Reed has the audacity to imply that I’m the stubborn one when it’s him who’s being pigheaded? I’ve already nixed the idea. He needs to accept it and move on.
His eyes narrow. “Are you refusing my help because I kissed you?”
The question comes from out of nowhere and knocks me off balance. I had assumed we weren’t going to talk about it.
“What?” My mouth dries at the mention of us locking lips. I laugh, but it comes out sounding high-pitched and shaky. “Of course not! In fact, until you mentioned it, I’d already forgotten all about it.”
That’s what he wants to hear, right?
A brow hikes up. “Is that so?”
I can’t tell if he’s relieved or irritated by the comment.
“Absolutely,” I continue, not meaning a single word coming out of my mouth. “It was nothing more than a kiss between friends.”
The small amount of distance between us is swallowed up when he steps close enough for the tips of my breasts to brush against the sinewy strength of his chest and I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes. My nipples immediately tighten at the contact.
His voice dips lower. “Do you kiss all your guy friends like that?”
He knows damn well that I don’t.
When I fail to respond, he snaps, “Well, do you?”
His warm breath feathers across my lips. It’s a little dizzying. Maybe more than a little.
This is exactly why we can’t pretend to date.
It’s as if there is a gravitational force drawing my body to his, which is why I twist out of his embrace and take a hasty step away. The newly created space allows my head to clear so that rational thought can once again prevail.
What was the question?
Oh, yeah. Do I kiss all my guy friends like that?
“No, I don’t, but that’s beside the point.” I fold my arms tightly against my chest hoping he hasn’t noticed the dreaded headlight effect I have going on. “We don’t need to pretend we’re going out. Just drop it.”
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t.”
I throw my arms wide, irritated that he won’t let this insanity go. “Because I don’t want to pretend we’re a thing when we’re not.”
He shakes his head, not understanding why I’m being so adamant about this. “That’s not a reason.”
I press my lips tightly together. I can’t tell him the real reason. That my feelings have changed or that I’ve started noticing things about him that I definitely shouldn’t be taking notice of. We’re friends. Best friends. And that’s the way it needs to stay.
That kiss didn’t help matters. If anything, it made the situation worse.
Reed isn’t going to drop this nonsense unless I give him a convincing reason. Fine, I can do that. “Because,” I mutter, still unable to meet his searching gaze, “I’ll look like an even bigger idiot for hopping from Tyler, who I caught cheating on me, to Southern’s biggest player. No thank you.”
When he remains silent, I gather my courage and peek in his direction. My face heats when our eyes catch. There’s an intensity swirling in his blue-green depths that knocks the breath from my lungs.
“I won’t touch another girl while we’re together.”
I make a strangled noise deep in my throat.
How can he make that kind of promise? There’s not a weekend that goes by that I don’t hear about the rumors running rampant the following Monday. Why would he willingly give that up? Even for a couple of weeks or months?
I shake my head.
“Just think about it,” he presses.
“I’ve thought about it and the answer is no.” There’s nothing he can say to change my mind.
“You’re being stupid about this,” he growls, looking as frustrated as I feel.
My eyes flare as I plant my hands on my hips. “Excuse me? Did you just call me stupid?”
“I said you were being stupid about the situation. I didn’t actually call you stupid.” His shoulders fall as his anger disintegrates. “You know I would never do that.”
This conversation has spun so far out of control and I have no idea how to reel it back in. “The answer is no. You don’t have to go all celibate for me.” When he opens his mouth, I cut him off by raising my hand. “I appreciate the gesture, but it’s not necessary.” I make a point of glancing at the clock on the wall. “I have to get back to my tables otherwise my tips will be crappy and I don’t need that on top of everything else.”
Not waiting for his rebuttal, I storm past him.
“Em—”
“No!” I swing around. “I’m done arguing about this!”
His lips flatten. “Then we’ll discuss it later.”
Grrrr!
“No, we won’t,” I snap. “Go home, Reed! We’re done here.”
I stomp from the breakroom and into the diner, beelining for the cash re
gister to see what I’ve missed. I’m so aggravated, I’m practically vibrating with it.
As soon as Stella sees me, her eyes fill with concern. “You all right, Em?” She knows me well enough to realize when something is wrong.
I inhale a deep, cleansing breath and try to calm myself from the inside out before pasting a smile on my face. “Yup. It’s all good.” I pick up my pad, taking a moment to glance through the sheets while Stella catches me up to speed on the customers and which tables need what. Switching mental gears is exactly what I need right now. It allows me to focus on something other than Reed.
And the kiss we shared.
And his offer to be my fake boyfriend.
Ugh.
Chapter Eleven
Reed
What the fuck just happened?
I shake my head and try to figure out exactly where our discussion went off the rails.
Here’s how I thought our conversation would play out—I’d waltz in, tell Em about the plan, she would, of course, be grateful and maybe I’d lay another kiss on her to seal the deal.
Or not.
Just saying…
Instead, I got a shitshow of epic proportions. I’m going to be honest here, most girls would be thrilled to date me. Even fake date me.
Emerson is the exception to the rule.
But then again, that girl is always the exception to the rule. So maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised.
I don’t get it. What’s the big freaking deal about us pretending to go out?
The last thing Em needs are a bunch of assholes sniffing around, trying to get in her pants because they want bragging rights. Even the thought of that happening pisses me off.
I wrack my brain, trying to remember the last time Emerson was this angry with me.
Doesn’t she understand that I’m only trying to help?
If we weren’t such good friends, I wouldn’t give a shit about what happened to her. But that’s not the case. Em means everything to me. And yet, here I am, on the outs with my best friend because I’m trying to do her a solid.