But the thought of not spending all of my time with Jeremy?
Awful.
Terrible.
Unacceptable.
Who needs kisses at fourteen anyway?
My stomach flip-flopped as I walked down the hall to where he was standing outside, waiting for me, like he always did. But, this time, he wasn’t watching for me. Instead, he was staring down at his tennis shoes. His shaggy, brown hair was a little unruly, strands of it falling over his tan forehead. That was par for the course, as he was always using his hands to run his fingers through it.
The muscles in his biceps bulged as he turned and pressed his palms against the lockers. He seemed anxious, and it appeared as if he was breathing heavy. Something was definitely wrong. With a sense of trepidation, I inched closer.
Whispers of how hot Jeremy Banks was filled my ears, and without even looking over, I knew girls were staring at him. He’d become popular with the ladies at Navarre High when he’d been the only freshman to make the varsity football team. But, just like me, he’d turned down any advance. Even when senior Jacqueline Dawes asked him out. We’d had plans that night, and he’d stuck with them even when I’d told him that it was okay if he wanted a rain check.
I tried not to read too much into it. He still treated me like he treated everyone else.
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t quite true, but he wasn’t hitting me up for kisses or anything. Not that I wanted them.
Not really.
“Jeremy?” I spoke softly as I approached, tentatively reaching my arm out to touch his. A spark shot out as he stood up straight, his eyes wide.
“Fuck, sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He grinned as he rubbed his feet on the carpet. “Static electricity is a bitch. But, then again, I think there’s always been a bit of electricity around us, don’t you think, Sierra?”
My heart pounded, and my eyes had to have been as big as saucers with how caught off guard I was at his words. Did he really mean them?
He turned towards me and leaned his shoulder on the locker, giving me a cocky once-over. It was a new signature move he’d stolen from one of the seniors who, not so successfully, was trying to date his way through the freshman cheerleaders. But, unlike that jackhole, Jeremy didn’t look like a smug jerk. He looked sexy. Confident. A tad bit goofy, too. Which was part of what was so damn endearing about him. It was all I could do not to rise on my tiptoes and see what he’d do if he knew just how much that move was affecting me.
Not that I’d ever do it. But hey, a girl can dream, right?
“Umm, yeah,” I mumbled lamely.
He continued to grin. “How you doin’?” he asked in his best Joey Tribbiani impression. Have I mentioned what TV junkies we were?
“Better than you, apparently. What’s with you? I was walking down the hall and you looked like you were either trying not to puke or trying to work your way into finally asking out Heather Perkinson.”
My heart faltered at the thought. Heather Perkinson was the prettiest, perkiest girl in the sophomore class. She made it no secret that she had the hots for Jeremy, and I’d seen them talking in the hallway from time to time. She always smiled and twirled her hair around her dainty little finger, making sure to laugh at every single one of Jeremy’s jokes. Of course, she always reached out to touch his arm, and the protective side of me wanted to yank her hand off him each time. But Jeremy was a big boy who could take care of himself. If he liked Heather…well, then I guessed we’d see what happened.
That didn’t mean I prayed to God that he didn’t. I had been fully prepared for high school to change our dynamic, but so far, it hadn’t. In fact, it had cemented how strong and solid our friendship was. We were stronger, closer than ever, and I loved it. We didn’t let school or football or cheer knock us down a peg. We always made time for each other. As little as it had seemed to be lately. I hoped we always would.
Jeremy’s groan brought my attention back to him. His grin was gone, and he was a little pale. I placed my palm on his forehead, then his cheeks, checking for a temperature. He was sweaty—clammy, even—and it worried me.
“Jeremy? What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick? Do you want me to help you get to the nurse?”
He shook his head profusely. “No. No. I’m not going to be sick. Well, at least, not yet.” He jerked his head towards the classroom door, which was a few feet away.
That’s when it hit me. I knew exactly what Jeremy’s problem was, and I couldn’t help the giggle that rose up. I slapped a hand over my mouth as soon as it had escaped my lips, but I was too late. Jeremy’s scowl indicated that he’d heard me, and the poor guy was not amused.
“That’s today?!” I exclaimed, laughing again—much to his displeasure. “I completely forgot! How could I have forgotten? You’ve been looking forward to this for years!”
His eyebrows narrowed, and I squealed when he pushed forward and gripped my hips. Then he twirled me around, pressing my back against the lockers. As he brought his head down dangerously close to mine, his expression darkened.
“Are you laughing at me, Tod?” he asked, his eyes dancing with small traces of amusement.
I feigned complete innocence. “Now, Copper,” I replied, pausing to bask in those warm eyes that resembled his nickname. He’d always been Copper to me, and no matter how old we got, he always would be. “Why would I ever do a silly thing like that?”
A low growl-like sound escaped his lips, and it was…sexy. God, it was sexy as hell, and that familiar feeling between my legs nearly knocked me off my feet. My eyes lowered just in time to see him capture his lower lip between his teeth. He looked…turned on. My belly twisted and tightened as my heart began to beat furiously.
“I think you know exactly what you’re doing to me, Sierra,” he said, his voice now gruff and husky.
The way he’d called me Sierra made me melt. For so long, I’d been Tod or Sullivan, but ever since we’d started high school, he’s let more Sierras slip here and there. And I loved it.
I swallowed hard as I stared up into his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was just teasing or if something else was lurking behind his brown-eyed gaze. He took a deep breath, and his chest rose and fell, his hard ripple of muscles on full display underneath his tight football T-shirt. As much as I complained about him spending too much time lifting weights in the field house, I sure did appreciate the results. His body was strong and lean, and built in all the right places with broad shoulders, the solid wall that was his impeccable chest, and arms that were corded with muscle. The desire to run my fingers over his hard edges and planes was so intoxicating that I started to reach my hand out to do just that.
“Let’s go cut some frogs!”
Chris, as usual, had interrupted our moment. If you could have called it that. I was really beginning to hate that guy. Okay, not really. He was so oblivious to anything going on with me and Jeremy that it wasn’t his fault.
At the reminder of what we were about to do, Jeremy’s face paled again.
I grinned up at him. “I’ll be right there with you, Jer. Every step of the way,” I promised, giving his forearm an encouraging squeeze.
It was his turn to swallow hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he gave a slight shake of his head. Then he winced. “I don’t want to cut an animal open! I think I need to go to the nurse. You can do this one solo, right?” he asked, looking hopeful. “I’m suddenly feeling ill and need to go home.”
As lab partners, he knew I’d be there for him. He’d been dreading this day for years. My big, bad, football-playing best friend was terrified of having to dissect a frog. Not that he’d ever said the words out loud until now. Still, I had known that it was true.