Again, he glances in my direction, and I hold my breath, steel my spine just at the look I see on his beautiful face. Oh lordy, maybe he can scare me off—just by looking at me. “Want to hear about my plan?”
“What plan?”
“I call it my get Amanda back to my house and naked in my bed plan.” He says it casually, like it’s no big deal, that he wants to get me naked in his bed.
This is a huge deal. Yes, yes, I know I was the one who told him we needed to slow things down, but I don’t know.
Maybe I was wrong about that.
“Oh.” My voice is small, only because my brain has gone into immediate overload, thinking of all the fun things Jordan and I can do naked in his bed.
“See?” It’s his turn to sound smug. “I just scared you.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You really didn’t.”
“You up for it then?”
“You’re talking to me like we’re discussing a pickup game of basketball or whatever.” I roll my eyes, barely able to contain my smile. “You up for another round, bro? Want to meet later? Hash this thing out? Play a little one-on-one?”
He laughs, and the sound is joyous. Amazing. I love it when he laughs. He doesn’t do it often enough. “Well, Mandy? You up for another round? Wanna play a little one-on-one?”
Our gazes meet, hold. My entire body feels like it just caught fire.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He takes me to dinner first, most likely to torture me. Draw this thing out. He’s good at that. The torturing part.
He’s good at everything he does.
We go to a small Mexican restaurant in a quiet part of town, not too far from where he lives, but
not in the swank area he took me to for our last date. This place is small and old, and almost every single booth and table is occupied. The lighting is dim, the atmosphere party-like with all the loud chatter and the music playing in the background. The smells that hit me the moment we walk inside make my stomach growl.
“Tuttle!” An older woman with ruby red lips and substantial curves approaches us, wrapping Jordan up in a big hug. He lets her hug him. In fact, he wraps his arms around her ample frame and squeezes tight. “It’s so good to see you,” she says. “We’ve missed you around here.”
“I’ve missed you too.” He disentangles himself from her arms and angles her so that she’s facing me. “Veronica, this is…Amanda.”
“Hi.” I smile at her, but she’s too busy turning to gape at Jordan, her mouth hanging open.
“This is Amanda?” Her voice lowers, her gaze cutting to mine. “Mandy?”
Oh God. For some reason, he’s talking about me to this Veronica? I can’t even begin to wrap my head around this. I brace myself, waiting for her animosity. If he’s talking about me, he can’t be telling her anything good.
“This is her.” Jordan nods, his expression solemn.
“Mandy.” She steps forward and pulls me into her arms, her embrace so tight I struggle to breathe. “It is so, so good to finally meet you. And please call me Ronnie.”
“Um, nice to meet you too,” I say, confused by her reaction.
She pulls away from me, clutching my shoulders and giving me a little shake. “You’re beautiful! Oh, I knew you would be. Tuttle’s told me plenty.”
Jordan groans.
“Don’t you act like that.” She lets go of my shoulders to turn on him, wagging a finger at his chest. “You’re the one who spilled your guts to me.”
“You spilled your guts?” I ask him. It’s shocking to think of Jordan telling someone else, a complete stranger, all about our failed relationship.
“He told me plenty.” She tilts her head, contemplating me. “Enough to know that I should tell you that you have another opportunity right now. Don’t blow it.”