Page 37 of His Best Friend's Baby

He moved to her right as if to walk past her. Emboldened by her own actions and on fire to touch him in some way, she put out her arm to stop him. Her hand curled around the inside of his elbow where the skin was smooth and warm. She could feel his pulse under his skin. Her fingers slid under the sleeve of his shirt and her lungs clogged and shrank.

He moaned. Whether from her touch or her newfound stubbornness she didn’t know, but her body stirred at the rough sound. She turned toward him, yearning for the kiss that lingered in the air around them.

He grabbed her hand and pulled it, yanking her off balance, sending her into a light-headed and lustful collision with his body.

“I have nothing to offer you.” His gaze roved over her face, lingering on her lips. “If you want to be my friend, if you have any feeling for me at all, you’ll leave me the hell alone.”

His grip squeezed the bones of her hand together but she was so wrapped up in the misery she could see in his eyes, that her own pain barely registered. Finally, he dropped her hand and took a step away. “Please,” he growled.

He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but in the end he just walked away, limping back to the house.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THIS WAS NOT going to be pretty.

Amanda sat at the kitchen table while Dad and Mom paced around her in an imitation of the Spanish Inquisition. Dad worked the area in front of the fireplace and Mom was behind her at the french doors.

“Nothing happened,” Amanda said, taking the first shot into the still, tense air.

Dad’s back went straight and Amanda cringed.

Should have kept quiet.

“You know that’s not what this is about. We asked you to not go over there. We asked you to leave him alone.” Dad put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his toes, which she’d come to learn—the hard way—meant he was trying not to lose his temper.

“I don’t think he wants to be alone.” Amanda shrugged. “I mean, I think he says that but I don’t think he means it.”

“Amanda, there are things going on that Rachel and I don’t understand—”

“Well, did you ask him? He’s not the total freak everyone thinks he is. He’s just grumpy…. I think if we kept asking him…”

Mom turned, tears standing out in her green eyes. “Amanda, this isn’t a game. It’s not some fight between you and Christie. It’s not a chance for you to get an A on your English paper.”

Amanda immediately felt about two inches tall. “I’m sorry,” she said, staring at the flaking pink nail polish on her thumb. “It’s not just about the paper. I mean it sort of was at first but…I wanted to get to know him. And I really think he liked having me there. But today when Julia showed up—”

“Julia?” Mom’s eyes cleared and went sharp. “Who is Julia?”

Amanda looked between her parents and the tension in the air changed. “I—I don’t know.”

“A journalist?” Mom asked.

“No…I mean, I don’t think so. I think they knew each other.”

Mom scowled, and Amanda rushed in to defend the pretty woman who’d seemed so lost with her baby and the broken stroller.

“She’s was totally cool. Not mean or anything. I think she was into him.”

“What do you mean, into him?” Mom asked.

Amanda rolled her eyes, but Mom wasn’t looking. She and Dad were sharing a surprised look.

See, she thought smugly, a little investigative journalism is just what the sit—

“Amanda, I need you to go up to your room,” Mom said, her eyes still on Dad’s.

Amanda scoffed. “Up to my room?” What am I, nine?

Dad turned his I-mean-business look on her and she jumped up from her chair and headed for the stairs. It’d been four years since Rachel had walked into their lives and made everything a million times better. It’d been that long since Amanda had been sent to her room.

And it’d been just as long since she’d eavesdropped. In fact, the last time she’d tried she heard them making out, which had pretty much scarred her for life and ruined her taste for spying. But something was up right now and a little spying was clearly in order.

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