“It’s true.” He taps our still linked hands against his chin, and I feel the faint scratch of stubble there. “Did you ever want to shake me?”
“Never.” I liked having him in class. There were other jocks in my classes, and that’s what Jordan was. A jock. The others, they were loud. Brash. Complete show offs, always performing. Some of them said dumb stuff when the teachers called on them, and all of their friends would laugh, which only egged them on.
Not Tuttle. He was quiet. Intense. When any teacher called on him to answer a question, he always got it right. When he raised his hand to offer his opinion, it was thoughtful. Intelligent.
“I never wanted to shake you either. Sometimes we even sat by each other.” He pauses before he further explains, “T and W aren’t too far away from each other in the alphabet, you know.”
Right. The first time he sat by me in science class in the seventh grade, I braced myself for an onslaught of insults. He’d been known as a bit of a bully then—smack talking everyone. Short and surly and a little chubby, with braces and pimples and just…all those horrible things that affect us when we’re going through adolescence. I thought for sure he’d take one look at me, tall and awkward and extremely shy, also dealing with pimples and braces, and think I was an easy target.
He never targeted me, though. Instead, he was…nice. He’d make occasional conversation, and I was always so nervous, I’d end up saying something stupid. His kindness threw me off guard. More than once, I caught him smelling my hair, which at the time I thought was just plain weird.
Now I know he liked the smell of my hair. He freaking liked me, even back then.
“We’ve known each other a long time, gone to school together since kindergarten,” I point out. “But that’s our past. And like Ronnie said, we shouldn’t linger there.”
“She’s right, you know. I give solid advice.” Ronnie magically appears by our table, depositing our Modelos in front of us. Jordan releases my hand, leaning back in his chair. “Enjoy your drinks on the house,” she says. “My treat.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, lifting my beer to her like a toast. Jordan does the same, murmuring his thanks.
“And let my words soak in like this beer which will eventually soak into your brain. Dwelling on the past gets you nowhere. Focus on what’s happening between you two at this very moment.” With those wise words, she leaves.
“Want me to tell you what I like about you now?” Jordan asks after he takes a sip of his beer.
I nod, bracing myself. Do I really want to hear this?
Um…yes.
“I like that deep down, you’re still the same Amanda that I’ve known since I was five.” He takes another drink, and I can tell that’s all he’s going to say.
“What do you mean?” I ask after too many beats of silence. I take a drink of my beer, hoping the alcohol will eventually calm my sudden frazzled nerves. “You said just a few minutes ago that I’ve changed.”
“You have.” He points the top of his beer bottle at me. “But you’re also the same.”
“So are you,” I tell him. “Different, yet the same.”
A single brow shoots up. That same sexy move he’s done since he was my teenage dream. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“A good thing,” I say without hesitation.
“I think it’s a good thing too.”
“We agree, then, that we’ve changed yet stayed the same?” Not sure how that’s possible, but I get what he’s saying.
“I totally agree.” He smiles. Drains half his beer in one pull, then sets the bottle on the table between us. “Want a burrito?”
“I’m ordering street tacos.”
“You can’t go wrong with their tacos.” His gaze never leaves mine. “I can’t believe you’re here. With me.”
My heart trips over itself at his raw admission. “I still can’t believe it either.”
“We leave in a few days. Are you excited?”
“Yes.” Excited. Nervous. “It probably won’t be a long enough trip to explore London, but I hope we see as much as we can.”
“We will,” he says with all that Tuttle confidence. “We’ll have a few days to check everything out. I’ve arranged a tour guide.”
“Really?” I pause in my questions when a server appears, ready to take our order. I order tacos and Jordan orders a burrito, and then the waiter’s gone, leaving us alone once again.