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I’m in full panic mode. Without her, the event will be another hollow schmooze-fest, and the thought of facing it alone twists something tightly in my chest. I lean closer, dropping my voice to a murmur. “Come on, Amanda. It won’t be the same without you.”
She bites her lip, clearly torn, and I can see the resolve in her eyes wavering. “I really shouldn’t…”
“I’m sure there will be enough volunteers. You rarely take time off.”
She blows out a breath. “No, I haven’t missed any yet, but I don’t know.”
“Please?” I reach out, brushing my thumb against her hand, a silent plea. “It’s just one afternoon. And after, we could grab dinner before the party.”
Amanda meets my gaze, and there’s a flicker of something there, an unspoken agreement forming between us. “Okay,” she finally relents, a small smile playing on her lips. “But you owe me, Morton.”
“Anything.” My smile is genuine as the tension leaves my body. I fall back into step beside her. “I’ll make it worth your while, you’ll see.”
The air feels charged as we walk. Amanda’s fingers brush against mine, and I swear I can feel the thrum of her pulse, a syncopated beat urging me closer. Every glance, every accidental touch sends my heart into overdrive. This is uncharted territory, and I’m unsure what to do with it.
“Are you ready for the game on Friday?”
“Always. Though I wish you were going to be there.” It’s an away game and the first one we’ve played since she attended. I nudge her shoulder. “My lucky charm.”
“I don’t know about that. I’ve only been to one game.”
“But having you there meant a lot to me,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t give away the tightrope walk of my composure.
She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and I watch the way her fingers hesitate at her neck, skin flushing with that subtle cue of nervousness. Or maybe it’s something else. The thought fans the flames licking through my veins, and I fight to keep my breath even.
We reach the steps to her apartment, and the bustle of cars sounds in the distance. She stops and turns toward me, her gaze meeting mine. Without thinking, I trace the line of her jaw with the back of my knuckles. She leans into the touch, her breath catching as a shiver runs through her. Her hand rests against my chest, not pushing me away but holding on, anchoring herself to this moment, to me.
“Blake,” she whispers, and my name on her lips sounds like a prayer, a curse, a promise.
“Amanda,” I breathe back, closing the distance until our foreheads touch, our breath mingling. Our lips hover so close I can almost taste the peppermint on her tongue, a kiss dangling before us like forbidden fruit.
“Whew, I’d say get a room, but I’m heading to the same location.”
We scramble apart at Maddy’s voice. Red tinges Amanda’s cheeks, but when her gaze meets mine, an understanding passes between us. It’s a silent acknowledgment that we’re standing at the edge of something profound, something neither of us is ready to dive into. Not yet.
Her eyes hold mine, and I see the same wildfire blazing within her that’s threatening to consume me. For a second, I’m certain she’ll lean in and finish what we started, but she steps back instead, putting space between us once more.
“I’ll be right up,” she says, her voice a mix of reluctance and resolve.
“Sure thing. Good to you see, Blake.” Maddy steps toward the door, but before disappearing into the building, she turns and shoots me a warning look.
I get it.Don’t hurt your friend.But as my heart rate paces back to normal, I’m beginning to wonder if the one left broken will be me.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
BLAKE
The chimeabove the bookstore door announces my entrance but goes unnoticed. Confusion settles in when the quick scan of the store fails to reveal my date.
Where is she?
I went to the apartment first, expecting to pick up Amanda, but she wasn’t there. Maddy guessed she lost track of time, which happens often during restocking. I don’t want to appear too needy, but the ceremony starts in less than an hour. We need to hurry.
A flash of dark hair draws my attention to the back of the store. A smile crosses my face as Amanda darts between aisles like a hummingbird on an energy drink high. Her dark hair bounces with every swift move she makes, her hands full of books, and her eyes focused. She’s got this way of being everywhere at once. I chuckle, admiring her hustle as I snake through the stacks toward the back wall.
Amanda stretches to her tiptoes, straining to reach the top shelf. I sidle up behind her, snatch the book from her hand, and place it on the shelf. Not my best move. She startles at my presence and stumbles backward, crashing into a precarious stack of boxes. The top of the stack teeters dangerously as Amanda tries to regain her balance.
“Hey, watch out for—” Too late.
