I count to five, take a deep breath, and turn to face her.
She’s perched on the edge of the bathroom counter looking like a goddamn queen. Her back and shoulders are straight, and there’s a haughty look on her face. Her eyes are a little dazed and her lips are parted. Lips I’ve kissed so many times, and I miss them. I miss her.
But she let Eli Bennett kiss her. In my bathroom.
I can’t believe it.
“Let me out,” she says, the slightest catch in her voice, like I scare her.
Good. She scares me too. She fucking terrifies me. That’s why I’ve been avoiding her the last few weeks.
“No.” I lean my back against the door and cross my arms, contemplating her. “We should talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” she snaps.
“I think we do.” I remain quiet and so does she. I’m trying to outwait her, but she’s stubborn and I give up fast. When I’m pissed, I lose patience. “Eli, Amanda? Really?”
“You have no room to judge.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder, her eyes full of anger.
“He’s a kid.”
“At least he likes me. He’s into me. And he has no problem letting everyone know about it either.”
That was a direct hit. “Get real. Being with you gives him bragging rights. That’s it. He only wants to bag you because you’re a senior and he’s a lame ass freshman.”
She recoils and looks away, her normally lush lips forming a thin, straight line. “Bag me?”
Bad choice of words. But I’m in too deep now, so there’s no going back. “Hook up with you. Fuck you. Whatever you want to call it.”
Amanda turns that angry glare back on me, her dark eyes blazing. “You really think I’d—fuck him tonight? Seriously?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. When I’m jealous, I lash out. That’s what I’m doing right now. Lashing out like an asshole because she let some other guy put his hands on her. Put his lips on her.
It’s killing me. Tearing me apart. But I deserve it. I pushed her away. I acted like she meant nothing, when she means everything to me, and I was too scared to face it, face her head on like a man.
I’m a coward.
“Nice to know you think so low of me.” She hops off the counter and stalks toward me, determination in her every step, looking sexy as hell, too. “Move out of my way.”
“No.”
“Open the door.” She’s standing so close to me, her body almost brushes against mine. Tilting her head back, she glares. “Open it.”
I study her beautiful face. Memorize every little detail. I’ve missed her. So damn much. “No.” I switch tactics. “Did you kiss him?”
“Who?”
“Eli Bennett! Did you, Amanda? Did you kiss him?”
“No, of course I didn’t!”
Relief floods me, heady and strong, and she notices. For some reason, that sends her into a full on rage.
She reaches out and pounds on the door, right by my shoulder. “Let me out!” She’s yelling at the top of her lungs, and I wince. “Please! Somebody!”
I cover her mouth with my hand, silencing her. Bending down, I thrust my face in hers. “Stop yelling, okay? I’ll let you out. Just—be quiet.”
Slowly I uncover her mouth and she starts beating on my chest. Pummeling me with her fists, one hit after another. She keeps saying something again and again, the words falling from her lips so fast, I can’t make them out at first. Until I can.
“I hate you, I hate you.”
I grab hold of her wrists to stop her from hitting me. “Amanda.”
“I hate you, Jordan. I really do. I hate you so much.” She’s crying. Tears are streaming down her face and her mascara is running. I’ve seen plenty of girls cry before. I’ve seen my mother’s tears countless times. They always make me uncomfortable. Tears in general put me on edge.
Seeing Amanda cry breaks my heart.
I pull her into my arms and hold her close, letting her cry all over the front of my shirt. “You don’t hate me.”
“I do! God, I do. I swear. I really, really hate you, Jordan.”
Her words are like tiny knives, carving into my already fucked up heart. She’s blubbering against my shirt, soaking it with her tears and I feel helpless. I can’t make the tears stop. How do I make the damn tears stop?
“Amanda.” I cup her cheeks and tilt her head back, forcing her to look at me. She glares, her eyes glittering with unshed tears, her lips red and swollen, her cheeks flushed pink.
“Please don’t cry,” I whisper, my throat raw. My feelings, my insides, my emotions, all scraped raw.
Her face crumples at my words, like I just made it worse. I lean down and press my forehead against hers. Close my eyes and inhale in her sweet, delicious scent. My heart pounds, and my breaths come fast. She’s killing me. Ripping my heart to shreds with every shuddery breath, every soft cry.