More than Friends - Monica Murphy by Monica Murphy Page B

chattering,” he says when we reach my car. “Here.” I watch in mute fascination when he tugs his hoodie off, his T-shirt catching on it for a brief moment and riding up, revealing his perfect, flat stomach.
    Oh God. I feel faint. I’ve touched that stomach before. Not enough times, though. I’d give anything to touch him again. Totally dumb, but true.
    Next thing I know, he’s tugging the hoodie over my head and I shove my arms into the sleeves, smiling when the hoodie hits me at about mid thigh. It’s warm from his body heat and smells like soap and spice and Jordan Tuttle. Which means it smells freaking amazing.
    “That better?” He tucks the sweatshirt around my neck, his fingers brushing against my sensitive skin, and a soft gasp escapes me, making him frown. “Mandy? You all right?”
    I finally do it. I give in. I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist, soaking up his solid warmth, the shape of him, the thin fabric of his T-shirt, the thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat against my ear. Oh God, I could hold onto him forever like this. And when he puts his arms around me, pulling me even closer, I snuggle in and close my eyes.
    “Thank you,” I whisper, my throat scratchy. Raw. “For everything.” I need him to know how much I appreciate what he’s doing for me. How he’s watching out for me. Protecting me.
    It’s sweet. Thoughtful.
    “You’re welcome.” He presses his lips to my hair and I clutch him tighter. I want more. More of Jordan’s lips on my skin, on my lips. But I don’t get it. And I don’t ask for it. I’m too scared.
    Apparently so is he, because eventually he lets go of me and I let go of him with a bashful smile. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”
    “Yeah. I’ll wait until the car starts, okay?”
    “Okay.” I unlock my car and climb in, then start the engine, sending him a thumbs-up. He nods and then goes to his car, which is parked near mine, and when I pull out of the parking lot a few minutes later, he follows me.
    All the way home.

W hen there are away games, the school doesn’t hold rallies. If that was the case, we’d be having rallies every Friday and nothing would ever get done. Not that anything much happens on a Friday at our high school. Though drama always seems to break out on a Friday.
    Or a Monday, or a Tuesday. Pretty much any day that ends in “y.”
    I’ve been on edge all day, worrying about how I’m supposed to get to the game tonight. I don’t want to drive, not in my crap car, considering we’re playing a town over forty miles away. Plus, I don’t want to spend the money on gas. I’m trying to save every dime I’m making right now to put away toward college.
    So when I spot Coach Halsey hovering by the quad near the end of lunch, I approach him with all the courage I can muster.
    Why am I such a coward sometimes? God, I hate it. I need to get a backbone, damn it.
    “Hey Coach.”
    He smiles when he sees it’s me. “Amanda Winters. Very excited about having you as our new water girl.” We’ve talked about it briefly, but he’s been busy and so I’m a little freaked I might not be the best water girl in the world. But if he has faith in me, I need to have faith in myself.
    “Thanks again for the chance. I really do appreciate it.” I pause. Lick my lips. Fight the nerves. “Um, what time do I have to be at the game tonight?”
    “Bus leaves at four, JV game starts at five.”
    I frown. “Wait a minute. You want me to ride the team bus?”
    His frown matches mine. “You are on the team now, correct?”
    “Um, I guess so…”
    “The team rides together for away games on the bus. The cheerleaders go too.” Great. Lauren Mancini will be there. Can’t wait. “The bus leaves promptly at four.”
    “Okay. Cool.”
    “Don’t be late. You don’t want the bus to leave you behind.” He smiles and starts to walk away. “See you tonight, Miss Winters,” he calls over his shoulder.
    “Why is he seeing you