“Not my type.” At all.
“Selena Gomez.”
Well, shit. I did go on a couple of dates with her. Set up by her publicist. It was nothing serious.
I must remain too quiet for too long because Amanda starts bouncing in her seat, pointing her finger at me. “You did. Oh my God, you went out with Selena freaking Gomez? How can I compete with that?”
“It was nothing,” I protest, but she’s shaking her head, making me go quiet.
“You went out with Selena Gomez, Jordan. She dated the Biebs.”
I remember her bringing up Justin Bieber when we were in high school too. The guy has been around for a long time. “So?”
“So the Biebs is still a big deal. Selena is too. She’s gone out with a few famous guys.” Amanda snaps her fingers. “She dated The Weeknd for a while.”
No way do I want to go over Selena’s dating history. “Who the hell calls hims
elf The Weeknd anyway?” I make a face. “Freaking ridiculous.”
“You’re trying to change the subject. I want details.”
“Details on what?” I know exactly what she wants.
“Your relationship with Selena! Is she nice? Is she as cute in person as she is in photos? Did you have fun with her? Did you have sex with her? Wait a minute, scratch that last question. I don’t want to know.” She’s shaking her head, reminding me of a little kid.
Reaching across the table, I settle my hand over hers once again, trying to calm her down with just my touch. I can still feel how jittery she is, though. “Our relationship was all of three very public dates and nothing else. She’s very nice, and she’s beautiful, but I didn’t have any chemistry with her. Pretty sure she felt the same way. Meaning, I didn’t have sex with her.”
“Oh thank God.” Amanda practically slumps in her chair. “I was afraid I’d end up worrying you’re always thinking of Selena when you’re with me.”
“Not a chance.” More like I always thought of Amanda, no matter what woman I was with. Even Selena Gomez.
The server appears with our dinner plates and I can tell Amanda’s surprised. My favorite thing about this place—beyond Ronnie and her sage advice—is the service is incredibly fast. Which my never-ending appetite totally approves of.
She slips her hand away from mine and smiles down at her plate before she checks out mine. Her eyes go wide. “You’re going to eat that entire burrito?”
The burrito is massive. Fills up practically my entire plate. “That’s my plan.”
“Where do you put it all?” she asks in wonder.
“When you exercise as much as I do, you can eat pretty much whatever you want.” Well, almost.
We eat and talk, mostly about people we went to school with and where they are now. I don’t really care about any of them, though I pretend interest because I can tell the subject makes Amanda comfortable. She doesn’t want to talk about my dating Selena Gomez anymore, not that I can blame her. I don’t want to talk about any of the guys she’s dated after we broke up either.
And they exist. I know they do. She’s too pretty, too smart, too goddamned nice to not attract more than a few guys in the last six years. In high school, most guys passed her over for the flashy girls. The brave, popular ones who weren’t afraid to talk to boys, who enjoyed any type of attention, whether it was good or bad. Amanda always lurked in the background, doing her thing, no guy really paying her any mind.
Except for me.
Well, and that one asshole who broke her heart and had her running into my arms by pure chance. What was that guy’s name? Thad?
His mistake that night, the summer before our senior year, turned into my opportunity. One I almost trashed more than a few times.
Christ, I was an idiot back then. Young and dumb and, deep down inside, totally insecure. I pushed Amanda away so many times, yet we couldn’t help but gravitate toward each other. Like we were meant to be.
How’d I get so lucky that she wasn’t snapped up by another guy and engaged to him by now? Or worse, married? I thought about it over the years. What if she met the man of her dreams? What if she married that guy and had his children?
Those thoughts were like a punch to the gut.
I’d look her up on occasion, though I didn’t find out much about her. Social media-wise, she’s pretty private. I’d ask Cannon if he knew anything, but he was clueless in regards to Amanda’s whereabouts. So I just hoped and actually prayed that if I ever ran into her again, she’d be single.