Murphy Monica - One Night (Just Friends #0.5) -

Chapter 1 - Olivia “Where’s Em?” I ask as I pull the Jeep door shut, then glance over my shoulder. There’s no one in the backseat, though really I always expect my best friend to call shotgun and sit in the passenger seat. She knows I tend to get carsick but she doesn’t really care. My best friend is kind of selfish sometimes yet I still manage to adore her. Dustin, my other best friend, smiles in my direction before he puts his car into reverse and backs out of my driveway. “She said she’ll meet us there,” he tells me as we pull out onto the road. Huh. We always go to parties together. That’s just how we roll, especially during the summer. This is my last party before I leave for Dad’s house in Oregon and I really want to spend my last few hours in town hanging out with Em and Dustin. “She better,” I mutter, keeping my gaze locked on the window. It’s just past eight-thirty and the sky is twilight blue streaked with varying shades of pink and purple. Normally I wouldn’t notice, but without Em’s constant chatter to distract me, I’m already feeling a little sad. A little lost. “Hey.” Dustin rests his hand on my bare knee, giving it a squeeze. I turn my head to look at him, our gazes meeting. His eyes are a warm, dark brown that I usually find comforting but right now, he seems so serious. I drink in his familiar features, a face I’ve stared at for what feels like forever. He’s actually a pretty good-looking guy and yeah, we might’ve fooled around a time or two in the past. In the not so distant past… And I’m not sure how I feel about it. We’re cruising into different territory and it scares me. It also excites me. “What?” I finally ask, hating how my voice cracks. I clear my throat, try to smile at him and he squeezes my knee again, his hand creeping a little higher up my thigh. I shove his hand off my leg and he shakes his head, laughing. “Don’t act all down and out because your twin isn’t here. She’s going to be at the party, I promise. She knows how important tonight is to you and I’m sure she won’t leave your side all night,” he reassures, keeping his gaze on the road. He sounds almost…jealous. Em and I drive him crazy half the time and I know sometimes he feels like the third wheel in our friendship. Other times, it’s like Em’s the third wheel when Dustin and I would rather be alone. It’s hard. I don’t like feeling torn between them. And I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

“How is she getting a ride to Tuttle’s house?” Jordan Tuttle is the most popular boy in our class, probably the entire school, though most of the time he’s aloof and kind of an asshole. Everyone knows who Tuttle is. He has the most epic blow out parties since his parents are never home. Plus, he’s rich as hell and his house is amazing. “She got her car back.” I frown, fighting the irritation that threatens to take hold. Em is constantly getting her car taken away by her parents. Her grades for the last quarter were awful so they took it away for the entire summer, supposedly. Looks like that idea fell apart after approximately two weeks. “And you know this how?” I cross my arms in front of my chest, sinking low in my seat. The back of my thighs stick to the soft leather and I grimace, irritated. This is what I get for wearing such short shorts. “She told me.” He shrugs and my gaze snags on his broad shoulders bared by the tank he’s wearing. I’ve never really been a fan of tanks on guys-or so I thought. I can’t help but notice how defined Dustin’s arms are, the skin smooth and already a warm golden brown from the sun. “She wanted it to be a surprise for you, so put on a good show when you see her next, okay?” “Weird surprise, but I’ll roll with it,” I say, hating that I feel a little put out. I know how Em usually operates. She’s spontaneous. Erratic. She’s usually fun. I’m the steady one who needs to plot and plan. Not Em. She’s up for anything, anytime. She needs me to hold her back. I need her to push me forward. It’s the perfect friendship. “You leave tomorrow, right?” Dustin asks after a few minutes of no talking, the only sound filling his Jeep coming from the radio. Some obnoxious song that they can’t stop playing is blaring out of the speakers and I’m ready to suggest we hook up my phone playlist or even Spotify, which is my favorite obsession. “Yeah.” I pluck at a loose thread unraveling from the leg of my jean shorts. They’re so short my pockets show and the hem is completely frayed. “I fly out in the morning.” “Extra early?” “Not till nine.” Though that feels early since I’d been sleeping in since school ended. “Knowing my mom, she’ll make us leave by six-thirty in order to get to the airport on time.” “You can sleep on the plane.” “Sort of.” Planes are uncomfortable and Dad doesn’t put me in first class so I suffer in the cramped seats sitting next to weirdo strangers who send me sympathetic looks when they figure out I’m traveling alone.

It sucks. And my attitude sucks even more, I swear. I need to get over myself. Focus on tonight. Focus on the party, spending time with my friends. I need to soak it all up as much as possible before I leave for the rest of the summer. “I’ll miss you.” Dustin’s voice goes soft and it has the same effect on my heart. He meets my gaze once more and I smile at him, reaching out to touch his knee this time around. “I’ll miss you, too,” I tell him. It’s the truth. Dustin is my best friend, my everything. We’ve been through a lot, we’ve known each other for what feels like forever, and there is no one else I’d rather have by my side but him. And Em, too-the three of us against the world is how we’ve always played it. “You won’t run off with Em all night, will you?” He settles his hand over mine. “I want to spend the last night you’re here together.” “Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” I tease, trying to pull my hand out from his, but he tightens his grip, not letting me escape. “I know you will, but I want to-be with you.” His fingers curl around mine but he never says anything else. I guess he doesn’t have to. Because he sounds serious and I know what he’s implying. Yes, we’ve messed around. Yes, I’ve never stopped it. Yes, I’ve even enjoyed it, though sometimes I feel guilty afterward, which is stupid, right? Or sometimes it just gets…weird between us, because we’re friends and I know he wants more, and I sort of do, too. But maybe I want something different. Truth? I’m scared, afraid I might end up stuck with Dustin forever. I know that sounds mean and awful, and I’m a horrible person for even thinking that way, but I can’t help it. I’m only seventeen, and I know there’s more out there. More to explore, more to see, more people to meet and things to do… And I want to experience all of it. Just not always with Dustin? Yeah, fine. I sound like a total bitch. I do love him. He’s always there for me, no matter what. I need to be there for him. I need to let go of my fears and insecurities and focus on the good stuff. How good Dustin and I are together. Because we really are so good together… He drops my hand and I glance up, watching him as he scowls. The Jeep slows and he hits the blinker, turning left. “Shit, it’s already packed,” Dustin murmurs as he pulls into Tuttle’s long gravel driveway, which is lined with cars. Vehicles fill the field next to his house as well, and Dustin steers into the field, parking so far out I already dread the long walk just to reach Tuttle’s front door.

We get out of the car and silently head toward the house. There’s a cluster of girls huddled together not too far from where we parked, and while I recognize their faces, I don’t really know their names. I wave and they wave too before they resume talking. “Friends of yours?” Dustin asks. “Not really. I think they’re a bunch of sophomores.” “Juniors now,” he corrects. “Right.” “And we’re seniors.” He grins and I smile in return. “Can’t freaking believe this will be our last year in school.” My smile fades. I can’t believe it either. The great unknown stretches before us and it scares the crap out of me. I don’t know what I want to do, where I want to go, or where I can afford to go. I have decent grades but I’m not an honors student or anything like that. I want to go to college just to get out of here and live on my own, but where exactly would I go? “Stop thinking about the heavy stuff.” Dustin grabs my hand and lifts it to his mouth, dropping a light kiss on my knuckles. “Let’s have fun tonight.” I nod, trying to muster up more enthusiasm so he won’t worry about me. “You’re right,” I tell him, my smile reappearing. “I’m ready to have fun.” He swings our linked hands together as we walk. “Fun as in ‘let’s get wasted’?” I tilt my head back and laugh, staring up at the twinkling stars for a brief moment before I return my gaze to his. “Totally wasted. I need to get lit tonight.” God, I really do. “Your wish is my command,” he says, his voice low and full of promise. * Hey everyone, thank you so much for reading! I’d love it if you voted/commented/shared with your friends. And don’t forget to read Chapter 2! xo, Monica https://www.instagram.com/justfriendsseries/ http://www.instagram.com/monicamurphyauthor https://www.pinterest.com/msmonicamurphy/justfriends/ http://www.twitter.com/msmonicamurphy http://www.facebook.com/monicamurphyauthor http://www.monicamurphyauthor.com

Chapter 2 - Dustin She makes me fucking crazy. Olivia Hudson, my best friend, my first kiss, the first girl who ever touched my dick, the first girl I ever made come, the first and only girl I’ve ever been in love with, doesn’t love me back. Not in the way I want. I try my damnedest to play it cool with her, but that rarely works. I always end up revealing my hand, revealing my feelings when I’m in her presence, and she either acts like she’s completely oblivious or that she doesn’t want to know. And that sucks. So here we are at this stupid party at Tuttle’s house, the night before she leaves for her dad’s for like, six weeks. There are so many people everywhere, the front yard and back, the pool, the hot tub, it’s like I can’t avoid anyone even if I tried. They’re all people I know, most of them I’m friends with or at least know, but shit. I want a moment of quiet. I want privacy. I want Livvy in my arms, my mouth locked with hers and my hands roaming all over her hot body… “Have one of these.” A cold beer is suddenly shoved into my hand. “Looks like you need it.” I smile in relief and crack the can open, the satisfying hiss still sounding when I bring it to my lips and drain half of it in record time. “Thanks,” I say as I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. Jordan Tuttle sends me an unreadable look, nodding toward Livvy, who’s already wandering off. “What’s the deal between you two?” “I have no clue.” I sound disgusted because damn it, I am disgusted. And frustrated. So sexually frustrated I feel like I could blow the next time someone accidentally touches my dick. “Isn’t that Olivia Hudson?” Tuttle asks, his brow lowered in confusion. Give me a break. He knows exactly who she is. We’ve all been going to school together for what feels like forever and our high school isn’t that huge. He only has a select group of friends and he’s fairly standoffish with everyone, including those so-called friends, so I guess I should consider myself lucky Tuttle talks to me at all. “Yeah, it’s Liv.” I grimace, hating how her name leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I can’t be angry with her. It’s a waste of time and emotion. If I had any balls, I’d go to her and tell her how i really feel. But I’m fairly certain she’d freak out, so I keep my mouth shut. “I haven’t talked to that chick since eighth grade.” He frowns. “Maybe even longer. Maybe not since sixth grade.”

“She isn’t your type.” Meaning if they don’t easily spread their legs and give him what he wants, then they’re not Tuttle’s type at all. He’s a screw ‘em and leave ‘em type of guy. I’ve contemplated more than once about trying to adopt his attitude. Tuttle seems to move through the halls at school like he’s untouchable. The girls know his game, know that he’ll never give them what they really want. And that’s every bit of himself. Where I’m like a jackass ready to give it all up to a girl who’s blind to whatever I’m willing to offer. “I assume you’re hitting that?” Tuttle asks. I laugh, then stop when I realize I sound bitter as hell. “Nah. We’re just friends.” He laughs too, tipping his beer to his lips after he drawls, “Right.” Scowling, I walk away, not in the mood for Tuttle’s shit anymore. But when am I ever? I push my way through the crowd, the music loud, the bass making the floor vibrate. A group of girls say my name, waving at me when I make eye contact and I wave back, offer up a little smirk. They giggle as they turn away, one of them squealing over how tall I am and I’m tempted to go join them. I’m looking to flirt. Looking for that adoration I suddenly feel the need for. I want to let go tonight. Hell, I need to let go. “Baby cakes!” Thin arms wrap around my neck as a slender body presses against mine from behind. I recognize her scent, her voice, the way her nails scratch my neck, just sharp enough to make me worry she might draw blood. “Em.” I turn to face her and she readjusts her hold so she’s gripping my shoulders, smiling up at me seductively. “What are you doing?” “What’s it look like? Let’s dance, D.” She starts to move right there in the middle of the room to the beat of the music, her hips thrusting, her boobs bouncing beneath the stretchy fabric of her top. I don’t think she’s wearing a bra. And I can’t help but stare. Em smiles and tosses back her head, laughing as her hips somehow bump against mine. She knows exactly what she’s doing and she loves it. Honestly? So do I. I shouldn’t, but I do. “Don’t be so stiff,” she chastises, her lips curled in a dirty smirk. “Though I probably would prefer you stiff…” “Em.” My voice is a warning but she ignores it. She’s been playing this flirtatious game with me for

months. Practically our entire junior year, not that she ever acts this way when Liv’s around. I don’t know what her deal is, but I’ve never mentioned it to Livvy either, because I don’t want them to fight. It’s mostly harmless anyway. Em likes to flirt. It’s just her way. But those two girls can be so jealous of each other. I know they are, though they’d never admit it out loud. They’re supposedly best friends, but sometimes I wonder if they’re more like best enemies… “Oh, stop being such a downer. She’s not around. Not like she wants you anyway.” She shifts closer as the song changes to a slower beat and we start to sway to the music. “You’re not a bad dancer, D.” I hate dancing. I’m not any good at it. “Is that what we’re doing right now? Dancing?” “We could do more if you want,” she whispers, leaning in so close. “I’m always willing, unlike someone else we know.” Is it wrong that I’m tempted? I’m not even drunk yet, but I wonder what would happen if I took Em up on her offer. If we could keep it our little secret and mess around behind Livvy’s back. I bet Em would let me do just about anything I wanted to her. Anything. And everything. “We can’t,” I tell her. It’s my usual protest. She’s heard me say those two words more than a few times. “Says who?” Her smile is pure seduction. The way she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, her dark hair falling into her eyes. She blinks up at me, working it. Working me hard. And I’m half falling for it, I swear to God. “Says me.” My voice is firm. I won’t back down. I can’t sneak around behind Livvy’s back with her best friend. It doesn’t matter that Livvy won’t give me what I want-a relationship. I can’t be disloyal to her like that. I’d feel like I was cheating on her if I messed around with Em. Stupid, I know. But I can’t help the way I feel. A sigh escapes her and she tucks her hair behind her ear before she reaches for my face, her fingers drifting across my lips for the briefest moment. A ghost of a touch that makes me go completely still. “We’re going to be alone all summer-just the two of us. She’s leaving us tomorrow and not coming back until school practically starts.” Em hesitates, pouting for a moment. “We’re going to get awfully lonely.” “You think?” Em is hot-most of the time a hot mess, but there’s something attractive about her messiness. She’s not what I would call stable. She likes to party. Get drunk, get high, it doesn’t really matter. She’s a major flirt and I’ve heard rumors that during the last few months of school, she became somewhat of a BJ queen. The rumors I heard claimed she was pretty damn good at it, too. “I know. And I know something else, too.”

“What?” I touch her hip, my fingers sliding just beneath the hem of her shirt. I shouldn’t do this, but her skin is soft. Warm. And she’s letting me touch her, not pulling away, not making a big deal out of it like Livvy would. It’s like she doesn’t even want me to touch her in public. I could probably feel Em up right here in the middle of the living room and she’d let me. “You need to know that I’ll always be here for you, Dustin. We could spend the summer together, just you and I, doing whatever you want, and she’ll never have to know.” She rises up on tiptoe and kisses my jaw, her lingering lips soft against my skin. “Just remember that,” she whispers close to my ear. And then Em’s gone. “Hey!” I whirl around to find Livvy standing in front of me, a frown on her pretty face, hands resting on her hips, looking sexy as hell. “What’s up?” I ask, running a shaky hand through my hair. My entire body feels like it’s been electrocuted after what Em said to me. How she touched me. Did Livvy see? Damn, I hope not. She smiles, her entire face lighting up. “You wanna go hang out by the pool?” “Sure.” She takes my hand, her fingers linking with mine, shocking me. “You want to swim?” “I didn’t wear a swimsuit,” she tells me as she drags me through the living room and into the kitchen. “You don’t need one,” I tease and she giggles, shaking her head. “I’m not going skinny dipping at Tuttle’s house. That’s a setup for disaster.” She’s right. But just about anything we might want to do tonight could end up a setup for a disaster. Like it matters. We’re all gonna do whatever the hell we want anyway. * Sigh, Dustin. And Em. And Livvy. What a tangled web they weave! Thank you for reading and if you happen to vote/comment/share with your friends, I’d love you forever! (Seriously, I already love you all so there). Chapter 3 is now UP!!!! https://www.instagram.com/justfriendsseries/ http://www.instagram.com/monicamurphyauthor

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Chapter 3 - Tuttle I scan the room from the top of the stairs, mentally counting all the heads I see. There has to be at least fifty people in the living room, maybe closer to seventy-five. Another summer rager at the Tuttle residence, it’s what I’m known for. Throwing epic parties filled with people who want to get close to me. Yet I keep them all at a distance. It makes them crazy. I make them crazy. And I don’t even mean to do it on purpose. It’s just the way I am. “Tuttle!” The screeching voice makes me wince and I brace myself as the drunken brunette stumbles up the steps, her fingers clutching the bannister so tight she’s white knuckling it. “Your house is so awesome!” “Thanks.” My voice is flat, my expression neutral. A ghost of a smile has them freaking out. If I know their name and say it out loud-and I do know this chick’s name, it’s Emily-they think that’s a declaration of true love and I can’t shake them for the rest of the night. Forget that. Love sucks. Girls suck too. “I mean, I’ve been here before but.” She stops directly in front of me, sounding breathless, blue eyes wide and almost unblinking. It’s kind of freaky, how she’s staring at me. “I’ve never been upstairs.” I raise a brow, remaining silent. “I’ve never seen your room either.” She smiles and reaches out, her fingers drifting across my forearm. I snatch my arm back like her touch scalded me, making her frown. “Aw, come on, Tuttle. We’ve known each other too long for you to act like this.” “What was your name again?” I tilt my head, examining her, my gaze roaming from the top of her head to the tips of her bright blue painted toes. Emily’s hot, there’s no denying it. But she’s also a complete wreck. She used to be sweet-kind of a goody goody, which I avoided even when I was younger. She hangs out with that girl who’s currently driving Dustin insane. They’re close friends, though it seems they’ve gone in different directions lately, at least from what I can tell. Not that I really pay attention. But hey, when a girl starts getting a reputation around school that she’ll drop to her knees without much encouragement, word gets around fast, and that’s exactly what happened with this Emily girl. I’ve heard her lips have been wrapped around plenty of dicks the last few months and honestly? I have no plans on letting her lips get anywhere near my dick.

“Oh, give me a break. You know my name,” she murmurs, sending me a coy look. She touches me again, her fingers landing on my chest this time, and I let her. She takes this as a positive sign. A smile curls her lips and she grips the fabric of my shirt a little tighter, forcing me to back up a step. I rise above her, but she just follows, grim determination seeming to drive her on. “Where’s your room, Tuttle?” This chick isn’t gaining access to my room. No one does, not really. If I hook up with a girl during a party, it’s in one of the six bathrooms in this mausoleum of a house. Or in the giant screening room with the lights turned down low and the girl kneeling on the ground in front of me while a movie plays on the screen. The volume turned up so loud the ground vibrates and the girl groans while she’s got a mouthful. Where I can lose myself in the fantasy a little bit, forget my troubles, forget the bullshit and just concentrate on the sensation of her lips wrapped tight, her tongue working, her fingers, her moans… I shake my head once. Yeah. Not happening tonight. I’m not in the mood. My last resort hookup spot is outside by the pool, which is usually busy, but there’s always a girl willing to give me a hand job in the hot tub. Sometimes I don’t even ask for it…it just happens. Get a little alcohol in a girl and she’s as bold as hell, trying her best to get her hands on my junk. But I’ve never allowed a girl to touch my junk in my room. That’s my sanctuary. “Let’s go downstairs.” I grab hold of Emily’s arm, ready to guide her back down toward the kitchen. I’m not messing around with this one. I’m fairly certain she’s trouble, and I’m not interested in trouble. Not tonight. Emily goes along with me willingly, though she’s pouting, her dark hair falling in her face. She shakes it back, her eyes flashing as they meet mine and I’m impressed with the amount of black eyeliner she’s piled on around those blue eyes of hers. She kind of looks like a raccoon. I’m sure that’s not the look she’s going for. We pass by her friend-Olivia-and she gapes at us, her shock apparent as we head for the kitchen. “Where are you taking me? To one of the bathrooms?” Emily asks hopefully as she clutches my arm. “Em!” The girl’s friend yells at us and Emily whips her head around, glancing over her shoulder. “Come here!” her friend demands. The look Em shoots me is cool and calculating. “Just ignore her.” “You’re not going to talk to your friend?” “She’s just jealous I’m with you. She’s always wanted you.” Em waves a hand, dismissing her. Yeah, right. I haven’t crossed her friend’s path since that play we did together in the sixth grade when we were a married couple. Olivia or whatever her name is, is not the kind of girl I go for. Not the

kind of girl I have classes with either. Meaning we rarely see each other at school. “She’s lusted over you for years,” Em continues, ignoring her friend as she continues to try to gain her attention. “Kind of like you have?” I ask her. She nudges me with a pointy elbow. “You’re such an arrogant ass!” I say nothing. What’s the point in denying it? “Please tell me you’re taking me to the bathroom.” Em gives my arm a quick shake, hanging on me. I’ve never seen a girl so eager to be taken to the bathroom before. It’s kind of disturbing. “I’ve been dying to hook up with you for months.” “I thought that was your friend’s main goal,” I remind her. Em waves a hand, wobbling on her feet. I grip her arm to steady her. She’s drunker than i thought. “Whatever. My goal. Her goal, it’s all the same. She likes you. I like you. Everyone likes you, Tuttle.” I’ve heard this before. Yes, I can be an arrogant asshole, but it’s true. Girls want me. They’ve always wanted me and I think it’s because I don’t necessarily want them. I’m not interested. Not in the majority of these girls I go to school with. Oh, I mess around with a few of them when necessary or when I’m bored. But most of the time, I ignore them. It drives them bat shit crazy. It’s like that makes them want me even more, when I want nothing to do with them. Well. There is one who’s interested me. But we move in different worlds. We’d never work together. And I don’t think she likes me at all. Which of course, intrigues me even more. “I know what you do with girls in bathrooms at your parties,” Em is saying, giving me a sly smile. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m totally willing. Let’s do this. Come on.” I shake my head. “You’re pushy.” “I thought guys like it when a girl knows what she wants.” Not like this. “Hey, Cannon.” I grab one of the linemen on the football team, stopping him from entering the kitchen. He gives me a look, one that says he’s surprised I’m speaking to him, not that I blame him. I may be the quarterback but we don’t really talk, unless it’s out on the field or in the locker room. “What’s up, Tuttle?” he asks warily, his gaze shooting to Em before it returns to me. Cannon is a big dude, tall with broad shoulders and a wide chest, a thick neck and a big head, his dark blond hair usually clipped pretty short. He’s threatening as hell out on the field, and he’s a great

football player, but I don’t think he’s real smart. And I can barely tolerate them when they’re not smart. “You know Emily, right?” I let go of her arm, giving her a slight shove toward Cannon. “Em,” she corrects, her voice lowering seductively. “I know exactly who you are, Cannon Whitaker.” “Oh, yeah?” He puffs up his chest, though how that’s impossible, I’m not sure. The guy is already as intimidating as hell. “Well, I definitely know who you are.” “I’m sure.” She laughs as she moves to stand by Cannon’s side, her arm going through his. “Your muscles are so big.” “You think?” He flexes for her and she pets his biceps, looking properly impressed. Shaking my head, I get the hell out of there before they try to stop me. * Ah, Tuttle. I have such mad love for him, even if he is a jerk. ;) Hope you enjoyed this chapter - more is coming soon! And if you’re so inclined to vote/comment/share, etc. I’d really appreciate it! xoxo https://www.instagram.com/justfriendsseries/ http://www.instagram.com/monicamurphyauthor https://www.pinterest.com/msmonicamurphy/justfriends/ http://www.twitter.com/msmonicamurphy http://www.facebook.com/monicamurphyauthor http://www.monicamurphyauthor.com

Chapter 4 - Emily I feel anxious. Edgy. Needy. Not that anyone seems to care. It’s like everyone is ignoring me. But I’m on a mission-I’m looking to hook up tonight. There’s no denying it, no denying me, because when I need to be, I’m a persistent bitch. So Dustin shot me down. So what? He’ll be easy to break once Livvy’s gone for the rest of the summer, bored out of her mind at her dad’s house. He’ll be putty in my hands within a few days of her leaving. I can almost guarantee it. That he doesn’t see I’ve been right there in front of him all of these years is frustrating. Dustin treats me like a friend. That’s it. He might get a little flirty, but not much. He’s too busy making eyes at Livvy, who doesn’t seem that into him at all. He’s totally missing out. And then there’s Tuttle. He’s impossible. I mean, I know he messes around with girls. I’ve heard plenty of rumors, though they all say the same thing-he’ll let them suck his dick, but that’s about it. He’s super selective-oh, and he’s also a selfish bastard. That’s what makes him even hotter. He’s so ridiculously gorgeous. And he acts like lord of the manor at his big fancy house with that snotty look on his perfect face. God, I hate him. I also want to get naked with him. At the very least, give him a BJ. But he never gives me a chance. He just literally shoved me onto Cannon Whittaker, who is undeniably hot, I’m not going to lie. But he’s not really my type. He’s just so big and muscly and…big. Yes. I’m repeating myself. But the boy’s bigness warrants repeating. “You like the guns?” Like he’s reading my mind, Cannon lifts his arms into the typical check out my muscles pose, his biceps popping. Making my eyes pop too because wow, he’s nothing but solid muscle. “Guns?” I briefly trail my fingers over his left arm. It’s like touching warm steel. “Yeah. They’re weapons.” He lifts his left arm to kiss his bicep and does the same to the right. It’s a totally cheesy move, and I’m wondering exactly how many girls has this worked on. “Weapons of mass destruction,” he tells me, his voice deadly serious. “Are you for real right now?” I giggle. My head is spinning a little from the shots I did earlier when I first got here. I smoked a joint in the garage before I left my house just to take the edge off, but the weed only made me anxious. Mom and Dad were inside, but I really didn’t care. My parents are such pushovers. For example, my grades were crap so they took my car away, but I knew I’d get it back. I always get my way eventually. They caved within a few days after taking the car away. The trick? Drive them bat shit crazy. I was such a nuisance, such a pain in the butt, always whining and stomping around the house and huffing

and puffing like it was the end of the world. They absolutely hated how I was acting and finally broke down, giving me back my keys with all these conditions put on me. Whatever. I know how to push their buttons. Just like I know how to push Livvy’s and Dustin’s too. People are so easy to manipulate. I almost feel sorry for them. “You want something to drink?” Cannon flicks his head toward the kitchen and I nod, following him until we end up standing in front of the giant ice chest full of beer sitting on the floor near the fridge. He bends over and grabs a can, giving me a prime view of his muscular backside. I catch a glimpse of his underwear when his shorts fall with the movement. Cannon wears black Calvins. Good to know. He pops the beer open before handing it to me, a sweet smile curling his very sexy lips. I take the icy cold beer gratefully and drain almost half the can, catching Cannon watching me with frank admiration in his gaze. “You don’t hold back, do you?” he asks, sounding dazed. Shaking my head, I lick my lips, his gaze locked on the movement of my tongue. I almost want to laugh. Guys are so easy. So simple. Cannon is no different. “What you see is what you get,” I tell him. His brows shoot up. “And what do I get?” I step closer, resting my hand on his forearm, his skin hot beneath my fingers. “Whatever you want,” I murmur, my lips curving into a little smile when his eyes widen with surprise. “Em! There you are.” Oh. Crap. Bracing myself, I turn to face my very best friend, the girl who knows almost all of my secrets. “Livvy,” I say, my voice weak. “I didn’t know I was lost.” “Well, I just saw you, but you kept on walking.” “I was with Tuttle.” My voice lowers and I flick my head back toward Cannon. She’s going to ruin everything if she doesn’t shut up. “Why aren’t you with Dustin?” Oh man, I sound kind of snotty, but I really don’t care. Livvy frowns. “Why would I be with Dustin?” “I don’t know. Because you two can’t seem to stay away from each other?” I do my best to keep the jealousy out of my voice, but by the way she’s looking at me, I think she’s catching on. I’ve never admitted it to either of them, but I’m jealous of their relationship. I know they’re just friends but they also mess around with each other. And then they have the nerve to keep it from me.

Like it’s their special little secret. When it comes to the three of us, I’m always on the outside looking in, and what’s worse? They deny they’re doing anything whenever I ask them. He denies it. She denies it. They’re liars. “You act like we’re together. But we are so not,” Livvy says vehemently. The look of faint horror on her face says it all. Does she really not want to be with Dustin? I don’t get why not. He’s a good guy. He’s her supposed best friend, besides me. Dustin is a great basketball player, he’s smart and funny and cute. Fine, hot. He’s hot. She’s stupid. But then again, so is he. “Whatever.” I flick my fingers at her, dismissing the conversation. It’s pointless. We’ll just go round and round. I have better things to do. Like Cannon Whittaker. “Who’s your friend?” Cannon asks, blatantly checking out Liv. Ugh. No way am I going to let him go tonight. He’s my only real prospect. “It’s just Livvy,” I tell him, my voice sweet as sugar as I wind my arm through his. I don’t bother looking at her. Maybe she’ll catch a clue and leave us alone. “Let’s go outside and check out the hot tub.” That’s code for us going into the hot tub so we can feel each other up beneath the bubbling water. People grope each other in Tuttle’s hot tub all the time. It doesn’t matter how many people are in there either. It’s like a free for all, which is sort of gross when you think about it. I seriously hope he dumps a ton of chlorine in there after his parties. Bleach would probably be better. “You need a good soak?” Cannon asks, grinning as we start toward the door that leads to the backyard. “I think we both do,” I say with a smile. “Em! Seriously, are you going to just leave me?” I glance over my shoulder, taking in the incredulous expression on my friend’s face. Livvy’s mouth is hanging open like she can’t believe I’d ditch her for a guy. Doesn’t she know me by now? We’ve grown apart this past year. I can feel it. She has to feel it. Things haven’t been the same between us since the end of last year, and I’m cool with that. But it’s like she doesn’t want to make waves. Well, I’m sick and tired of remaining stagnant. Life isn’t going to just pass me by. I’m gonna grab it by the balls every chance I get. And if that means grabbing Cannon’s balls tonight, then so be it. I’m up for the challenge.

Though truthfully? I’m guessing Cannon won’t be a challenge at all. “Go find Dustin,” I say, my voice loud enough for everyone standing around to hear me. “I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to keep you company tonight.” The hurt look on her face says it all. I’m the total bitch best friend. May as well own it. Without a word she turns on her heel and heads the other way. I watch her go, tempted to run after her but I remain where I stand. Cannon whistles low as he leads me out to the backyard, my arm still curled through his. “You’re cutthroat,” he says, almost admiringly. I shrug, smiling up at him. “Don’t worry about her. She understands.” He smiles in return. “You got a swimsuit on underneath your clothes?” My smile turns coy. “Maybe.” “Might have to strip you naked before you get in that hot tub, huh? Is that what you’re telling me?” he asks, his voice hopeful. In his dreams. I don’t answer him. A little mystery never hurt anyone. * Peeps! Make sure you vote and let me know what you think of Emily’s chapter! Ah, she’s not the best friend to have around, is she? #nope Next chapter is coming this Thursday! Wheee! xo https://www.instagram.com/justfriendsseries/ http://www.instagram.com/monicamurphyauthor https://www.pinterest.com/msmonicamurphy/justfriends/ http://www.twitter.com/msmonicamurphy http://www.facebook.com/monicamurphyauthor http://www.monicamurphyauthor.com

Chapter 5 - Cannon This girl is ready for action and I’m ready to give it. I’ve heard the stories about Emily, especially these last few months. She likes to party. Get her wasted and she falls to her knees in an instant. Though I’m not looking for that-don’t laugh. It’s true. I won’t turn down a blowjob or a hand job or whatever, but what I’ve really been looking for lately is… A connection. Sounds sappy. All my friends would tell me I’ve lost my balls and become a complete pussy, but whatever. What the hell do they know about relationships? Nothing, that’s what. And I’m not necessarily seeking a relationship-I’d probably freak out if I found myself in one-but I am looking for something more than a casual hook up at a party. I want someone I can literally Netflix and chill with. I want someone who’ll come watch me play ball and wear my jersey. Yell my name as loud as she can from the stands when I go running by, and who’ll congratulate me for a spectacular win with a big, fat kiss. Someone I can make out with whenever I want. Yeah. Perfect. I want that. “Cannon.” Em draws my name out, all the n’s slurring together. Girl’s been drinking a lot more than I thought. Probably stoned too. “Watch me.” I do, crossing my arms in front of my chest as she awkwardly strips out of her clothes, revealing that yep, she’s wearing a red bikini. But it’s tiny, the triangle top barely covering her tits, and the bottoms are so small I’m guessing she waxes pretty much everything. “Tricked ya,” she says as she saunters toward me, her hips swaying. A few guys that are nearby cheer her on and she beams, clearly loving the attention. This girl is a wreck. I bet I could rescue her. “How’d you trick me?” I ask when she stops directly in front of me, her hands going to my chest. They funnel beneath my T-shirt, touching my bare skin and I shiver at her aggressive touch. “You hoped I’d have to skinny dip.” She cocks her hip, resting her hand there. “Look at me in my bikini.” “You could still skinny dip. If you want.” I smile when she laughs, enjoying the sound. I shouldn’t encourage her. She’d probably whip those little scraps of fabric off so fast my head would spin. “Nah. A girl’s gotta have some mystery.” She pushes away from me and heads for the hot tub. My gaze locks on her butt, appreciating the way her cheeks are on display, the sexy sway of her hips.

Girl’s got a tight ass, I’ll give her that. “Well, I hate to disappoint you,” I say as I follow after her. “But I’m not wearing swim trunks. Didn’t bring any either.” Em twirls around, her mouth dropping open in shock. “Cannon.” “What?” I ask innocently, enjoying the way her gaze roves over me, like she’s trying to take me all in. And there’s a lot to take in. I’m not a small guy. She’s not a big girl. I’d probably smash her if we did it missionary style. We’d probably work out better if she were on top. Just like that, my head is filled with all sorts of images, the majority of them featuring Em bouncing on top of me with her tits in my face. Damn. I need to calm down before I pop a tent in my pants. “Are you going to skinny dip?” Her brows go up. “Naw. I got underwear on.” “So I’ll get to check you out in your Calvins?” My cheeks go warm. “How’d you know I was wearing Calvin Klein underwear?” I’m freaking embarrassed, which is the stupidest thing ever. I’m trying to impress this girl and act like a sex god, but I’m getting tripped up over the underwear mention. “I saw them when you grabbed me a beer.” She makes a cute little face. “Another beer sounds good right about now.” “No.” I shake my head. “No more beer for you.” I mean it. I don’t like sloppy drunks. And I definitely don’t take advantage of drunk girls. That’s not cool. “Now turn around.” “What? You’re not going to let me watch you strip?” She looks extremely disappointed, which works wonders for my ego. “Nope. A guy’s got to have a little mystery.” I throw her words back in her face and she laughs again. I really like it when she laughs. It lights up her whole face and she doesn’t look so…troubled. Why do I have such a soft spot for the troubled girl? I always have. They’re a weakness of mine. I’m a rescuer. Maybe because my mom has needed to be rescued ever since I was a little kid with her constant bad choices. Made me want to take care of her in any way I could. But I never got the chance. She’d always let some other asshole take care of her-and they rarely did a good job. So I watched over my little sister, making sure she did her homework, that she was fed, that she went to bed at a decent hour. Though lately she’s avoiding me, barely looking me in the eye when we talk. I think it’s because she’s up to no good. Swear to God, none of the females in my life can stay on the straight and narrow.

“I’m waiting,” Em says, her voice high and light and I hurriedly strip, until I’m left in nothing but my boxer briefs. She turns to face me right when I kick off my shorts, her gaze dropping low. I get the weird feeling that she’s totally checking out my package. “Let’s go.” She comes toward me, takes my hand and leads me to the hot tub, which luckily enough is completely empty. The moment we sink into the hot, bubbling water a sigh eases out of me and I lean back, my head on the edge of the tub’s ledge. “Feels good,” I murmur. She snuggles close to my side, her fingers skimming my stomach beneath the water. “Yeah, you do.” We’re in warm, bubbly water, skin on skin, not much between us. This is a moment I should take advantage of. I know she won’t protest. Hell, she wants it. Wants me. She’s made that abundantly clear. “Cannon.” She tilts her head back when I look down at her, her lips parting invitingly. “Kiss me.” I frown. The move, the line, the way she looks, it all feels so practiced. She’s done this before. Multiple times. Usually I wouldn’t give a crap. I’d take her up on her invitation and get down to business. So why am I acting this way now? With this particular girl? I don’t get it. Leaning down, I drop a kiss on her forehead, which earns me a frown for my efforts. “That’s all I get?” she asks, sounding pouty. “You’re drunk.” I touch her cheek. Her skin is soft and smooth and her lids lower over her eyes, like she enjoys my fingers on her skin. “Maybe a little high too.” “So?” She sounds irritated and I kiss her softly on the lips, nothing too pushy or over the top. But let me tell you, I feel that kiss right down to my bones. “I don’t take advantage of drunk girls,” I whisper, hoping she realizes I’m a good guy. Despite my reputation, despite the public persona I put on for everyone to see, I can’t take advantage of this girl. I’ve known her way too long, watched her slowly spiral out of control. I won’t contribute to her downfall. “That’s a shame,” she murmurs, leaning into me so close, her head rests on my shoulder. “I would’ve totally let you take advantage of me tonight.” I say nothing. Just slip my arm around her slender shoulders and keep her close. One of the guys from the team pauses by the edge of the hot tub, his eyes gleaming as he makes a dirty hand gesture then points at Em. I glare at him until he looks down and walks away. Jerk. I know what they think about her. I know she’s the one who made them think that way,

considering she created her own reputation. I should leave her alone. She’s trouble. But I like how she fits next to me. I like the smell of her hair, her soft skin, her smokin’ hot body. And she’s nice. Before everything seemed to fall apart, she was really nice and friendly and fun to hang out with. Maybe we could be something. Or maybe we won’t amount to anything. But I do know one thing. I’m watching out for her tonight. She needs a knight in shining armor. And I’m going to take that role on-whether she likes it or not. * Peeps! I forgot how much I love Cannon. He’s so sweet, which was a total surprise to me considering when I first created him, he was sort of a dog. ;) And you’ll see him again in my book JUST FRIENDS, coming September 13th! Wait until you read the next chapter…I think it’s my favorite one so far! *squee* Don’t forget to vote/comment/tell your friends about ONE NIGHT! xoxo https://www.instagram.com/justfriendsseries/ http://www.instagram.com/monicamurphyauthor https://www.pinterest.com/msmonicamurphy/justfriends/ http://www.twitter.com/msmonicamurphy http://www.facebook.com/monicamurphyauthor http://www.monicamurphyauthor.com

Chapter 6 - Amanda I can’t believe it. I’m walking into Jordan Tuttle’s house like I belong here, like I own the freaking place-ahem, palace. His house is a giant mansion, like something out of a movie, but I don’t let myself get distracted by all the beauty surrounding me. Instead, I hold my head high, my gaze searching the room in the hopes I’ll spot Thad before he sees me. I’m so excited I can barely stand it. The living room is jam packed with so many people, the music thumping so loud I can’t hear anything. And the song is awful. I’ve never been a big fan of rap. I’m more the female power type of music lover. Katy Perry. Arianna Grande. Oooh, Sia is a new favorite. Even freaking Lady Gaga. Okay fine, boys would roll their eyes at me if they knew my musical tastes. Well, Thad wouldn’t. But that’s because he’s sort of the perfect boyfriend. I can’t quite call him the perfect boyfriend because first, he’s younger than me by a year. And that lowers my street cred, if I even have any. I probably have zero street cred. Whatever. Second, he’s a band geek. Like me. But that’s okay, right? We’re both in band, so we spend a lot of time together. It was meant to be! That’s what my best friend says. And Tara should know, since she’s in band too. We’ve been best friends since sixth grade, when she and I sat in the clarinet section together. She knows all of my secrets, just like I know hers. Thad plays sax. He flirted with me right after winter break-rather badly-and somehow I picked up on the signals. Tara did too. I think she was jealous. I was the first one of us to have a real boyfriend, and I know she’s had various crushes throughout our high school years, but nothing has come from them. Yet. I still have high hopes for my friend. She’s pretty and smart and fun to hang out with. Sort of moody sometimes, but aren’t we all? She deserves a good guy, a great boyfriend. That way we could all double date together, and that’s my ultimate dream. I tried to convince her to come with me to Jordan Tuttle’s party tonight, but she said she didn’t want to feel like a third wheel. Like we’d ever exclude her. She’s my bestie for life. I’d never wrong her. Ever. Besides, this place is crawling with hot guys. She could’ve had her choice of boys tonight, not that I’m paying attention to any of them. I’m on the hunt for Thad. Where is he? I’m kind of boggled by the fact that he wanted to meet here tonight. How he scored an invite to this party, I’m not sure, but once the word hits social media, it’s a free for all. Tuttle’s parties are always that way. Not that I’ve ever been to one before, so I don’t have any personal experience. He invited me once. A

few months ago, in our honors English class we had together. Someone was asking about another one of his parties and he looked right at me with those piercing blue eyes of his and said, “You should come.” My mind drew a blank because hello, Tuttle said something to me. He has before-many times, really because we tend to have classes together every year. But he’s untouchable, especially to someone like me. So untouchable, I glanced behind me, thinking he was talking to someone else. But no. He was talking to me. “Amanda. That’s your name, right?” he asked pointedly, that intense gaze of his pinning me in place. Reminding me that he’s some sort of god while I’m just…me. A nobody. I nodded, my tongue tied in a Tuttle-induced knot. I swear I heard a few girls verbally swoon when he said my name, because-and we all knew this-he rarely said a girl’s name out loud. It was a rare occurrence. Did this make me special? Probably not. “I’ve never seen you at one of my parties,” he continued conversationally, leaning back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine. He was unnaturally good looking. Like, his face is a work of art-it belongs in a museum, he’s so perfectly formed. Crazy, right? I know, I know, but trust me. He’s that gorgeous. “Why?” “Um…” I shrugged. “I never thought I was invited?” “Well, you definitely are.” His lips tilted upward, subtle but there. A…smile? “I’ve just personally invited you to my party this Friday. I want to see you there.” It was like a royal decree, one that excited me beyond anything had in a long time. But the very next day, Thad asked me out on a date for the first time, and we went to the movies that Friday night instead. I figured Tuttle was just messing with me anyway. Thad’s more my speed. Normal. Cute. Average. With a silly sense of humor and thankfully, not intense whatsoever. “Amanda! Hey!” I turn to see Natalie Whipple standing in front of me, her eyes so wide I thought they were going to bug out of her head. “What are you doing here?” Natalie is in band with us. She plays the flute and she’s terrible at it, but no one’s left behind in our high school band. Like…no one. “Hey, Nat.” I wave, then drop my hand when she continues to stare at me like I’m the weirdest thing she’s ever seen. “Have you seen Thad around?” “Thad?” She giggles, resting her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “Um, yeah?” Why is she talking in questions? “Okay. Where is he?”

“Upstairs?” Another giggle slips before Nat tries her best to manage a straight face. “In one of the bedrooms?” My heart starts to hammer against my ribs. He’d told me the last time we were together he wanted to take things further. We’d been making out in the backseat of his car, and he’d been sort of all over the place. He’s a decent kisser, though maybe a little sloppy. Too much tongue, I think. And he’s handsy as hell, which in the right situation I think I’d like, but most of the time, it feels like I’m making out with an octopus when I kiss Thad. Oh, that was mean. He’s my boyfriend. I shouldn’t critique his skills. More like I should help him along. I’m totally inexperienced too, so we can teach each other, you know? “Thanks,” I tell Nat before I walk away, headed toward the staircase. Where I happen to see Tuttle standing at the top, gazing down at me with…an unidentifiable emotion gleaming in his eyes. I start up the stairs, gripping the bannister with shaky fingers, unable to tear my gaze away from Tuttle’s. He watches me, his expression blank, like he could care less if it’s me that’s coming toward him, and that’s fine. Really. I should mean nothing to him. He means nothing to me. I’m in search of Thad, not Tuttle. “You finally made it,” he says when I reach the top of the stairs. “Up the stairs?” I ask confusedly. I come to a stop directly in front of him and I swear to God, he radiates heat. I can feel him drawing me in and I’m tempted to take a step backwards. But then I might fall down the stairs and that would really suck. Tuttle cracks the faintest smile. “To my party.” “Oh.” Right. His invite from long ago. “So hey. Have you seen my boyfriend?” The scowl that suddenly appears on his gorgeous face surprises me. “You have a boyfriend?” Okay. That was mean. Why does he sound so shocked? The jerk. “I do,” I say as I tilt my nose up into the air. Do I look snooty? I hope I do. Tuttle is a total jackass. “He’s average height, skinny. Brown hair, brown eyes. Have you seen him?” Ugh. I made Thad sound so boring, and he’s really not. I’m the worst girlfriend ever. “He’s really cute,” I add before Tuttle can answer me. “He has a nice mouth. Really full lips.” I wince the moment I say the words, and when Tuttle’s eyebrows shoot up, I figure he must think I’m really stupid. “I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend, Mandy,” he murmurs, the scowl gone, replaced by an almost-hungry look on his face. “So I don’t know what he looks like.”

“Of course, you don’t. You never pay attention to anyone at school but yourself,” I mutter. The hurt look on his face surprises me. And angers me too. Irritated more with myself than with Tuttle, I push past him and he smartly steps out of my way. I’m mad. Why do I turn into a bumbling idiot in Jordan Tuttle’s presence? Why would he be so mean about me having a boyfriend? Like that totally shocked him, which is incredibly rude. He’s such a jerk. Such an arrogant, gorgeous, smart, awful jerk. The hall I’m walking down seems to go on forever, reminding me of a hotel. I take in all of those closed doors and decide… Screw it. I start opening them, one by one. One’s a closet, with neatly folded towels and sheets stacked on pristine white shelves. The next door is a giant bathroom that’s occupied by two girls making out, one of them sitting on the counter, her legs wrapped around the other one’s waist. “Sorry!” I yelp before I slam the door shut. Crap. This is probably going to happen again and again. Invading people’s privacy, but dang it, I need to find Thad. I’ve texted him twice since I got here and so far, no reply. Where is he? I open a door. Another one. And then another one-when I hear a breathy gasp. Followed by a groan. That groan sounds awfully familiar. I creep into the room, my footsteps light, my breath lodged in my lungs and my eyes quickly adjusting to the utter darkness. There’s a bed, right in the center of the room, and there are two people on it. I blink them into focus and discover that they’re not covered, the sheets and comforter flung onto the floor in a tangled heap. They’re completely naked. They’re Thad and…Tara? “Get it in me, get it in me,” my best friend chants. Thad’s moon white butt pauses and I hear him say, “It is in you.” “Holy shit!” The words blast out of my mouth and they both pause, their heads swiveling at the same exact moment, their eyes widening when they spot me. I’d consider it almost comical if I weren’t so freaking pissed. “Amanda. I can explain,” Thad starts weakly but yeah. I’m not listening. Not ever again. I run out of the room.

And right into Tuttle. * Poor Amanda! Stupid Thad. And betrayed by her best friend, that’s the absolute worst. Can’t wait to share the next chapter in a few days! Don’t forget to vote/comment/share ONE NIGHT with your friends! Thank you for reading!! xo Monica https://www.instagram.com/justfriendsseries/ http://www.instagram.com/monicamurphyauthor https://www.pinterest.com/msmonicamurphy/justfriends/ http://www.twitter.com/msmonicamurphy http://www.facebook.com/monicamurphyauthor http://www.monicamurphyauthor.com

Chapter 7 - Olivia This night isn’t going as I expected. Em for some weird reason is mad at me. She totally ditched me for that overly muscled football player Cannon Whittaker and I really don’t get why. She knows it’s my last night in town before I leave tomorrow. I thought she wanted to spend time with me. I thought she wanted to hang out with Dustin and I and get drunk and do stupid stuff. But for some reason, she was really awful to me earlier and what she said hurt my feelings. Now all I want is to go home. I can’t find Dustin so I can tell him that, and I’m frustrated. Where could he have gone? What is he doing? I’ve searched as much of the house as I can-which is saying a lot because Tuttle’s house is massive-and Dustin is nowhere to be found. It’s like no one cares I’m leaving tomorrow. But why should they? They’re all going to carry on and have a great summer together. I’m the one who’s going to miss out on all the fun. Pity party for one, happening right now. I head back through the kitchen, ready to go outside one last time when I spot him. Standing in the corner next to the giant subzero freezer, his shoulder propped against it, smiling down into the face of one overly animated, way too cute girl. Stupid Brianne Brown. She’s been after Dustin for what feels like forever but he usually doesn’t give her the time of day. So why is he looking at her like that? And why do I suddenly feel like I can barely breathe? It’s called jealousy, you dork. Taking a deep breath, I tug on the hem of my shirt, smooth a hand over my hair and then start toward them. Dustin glances up, his gaze meeting mine and the sweet smile that curves his lips makes my heart flutter madly. There. That’s the look I want to see. His gaze is on me and not Brianne. She knows it too, glancing over her shoulder to send me a withering stare, hardly registering that it’s me. We’ve never really gotten along and I’m guessing a lot of that has to do with Dustin and how much she wants him. Whatever. He’s my best friend. She can’t sink her claws in him. I won’t let her. “Livvy,” Dustin says when I stop directly beside him. “Where’ve you been?”

“I was wondering the same thing about you.” I lean into him, bumping my hip against his and his smile grows. Brianne scowls. “Excuse me, but you’re interrupting our conversation.” Oh. My. God. She is such a bitch. I smile sweetly and loop my arm through Dustin’s. “I’m sorry. Please go ahead with your fascinating conversation.” Dustin is completely clueless. He shoots Brianne a kind smile. “Yeah, Bri. Finish your story.” “I’ll tell you about it some other time.” Her smile is brittle. She won’t even look in my direction. “I’ll talk to you later, Dustin.” “Yeah, bye.” He tightens his arm around mine, turning to face me the minute she’s gone. “What was up with that?” Oh. Maybe he’s not so clueless after all. I decide to go for clueless instead. “What do you mean?” “Why did I get such hostile vibes between you two?” He smirks. Like he doesn’t know why. Ha. “Um, because she’s hot for you and hates me.” He laughs. “She is not.” “Yeah. She so is.” One dark brow lifts. “So? What’s the big deal?” I don’t want to look like a jealous shrew but… “She’s trying to move in on you.” “And you have a problem with that?” He sends me a pointed look and remains silent. So do I. For way too long. Reality check. It’s hard for me to admit exactly how I feel about Dustin when I’m not one hundred percent sure. He’s been my friend for so long, and I don’t want to damage our friendship by falling into a relationship. That’s serious. I don’t know if I’m ready. And sometimes I think he wants serious more than anything. It’s kind of scary. I decide to keep it light. “I can share you,” I tease. “But I don’t think Brianne likes me very much.” “You’d share me?” Dustin sounds incredulous. My cheeks go hot. “You know what I mean. I’m your friend. She wants…more.” “You’re not just my friend, Livvy.” His voice drops lower and I swear I feel it reverberate throughout

my body. “You’re my best friend. My closest friend. No one knows me better than you.” “Right.” I nod, hating how shaky I feel at the thought of him with someone else. With Brianne. “If I start dating Brianne, she’ll have to get used to you in my life. We’re a package deal, you and me. And Em,” he says, his tone deathly serious. My mouth drops open and I quickly snap it shut. He’s really considering going out with Brianne? Gross. She would never get used to me in his life. She’d shut Em and I out and never think twice about it. “You wouldn’t care if I went out with Brianne, right Livvy?” His voice is soft, and when I lift my gaze to his, he’s watching me closely. And standing extra close too. When did that happen? And how did my hand end up in his? “If you want to date Brianne, I guess that would be fine. I can’t tell you what to do.” The bitterness is so obvious in my tone. I hope he doesn’t notice. “I had no idea you liked her like that, Dustin.” “Like what?” he asks innocently. “Like…you know.” I shrug, feeling stupid. “You want to go out with her.” “She’s cute. And persistent.” It’s his turn to shrug. “I’m flattered that she seems to want me so bad.” “Don’t let it go to your head.” I reach out to lightly smack his chest but he grabs hold of my wrist, stopping me. His fingers curl tight, his thumb brushing the inside of my wrist, making me shiver. “I’m just messing with you,” he says, his rumbly voice so low, I have to lean in closer to hear him. His thumb still strokes my skin and I want to ask him to stop. Beg him to keep touching me. How can he touch me like that if he likes Brianne? “I don’t want to go out with her.” Oh. Wait. He doesn’t? See, this is what drives me crazy about Dustin. We send each other mixed signals all the time. I don’t know why we do that but…we do. It’s like we play head games with each other. We flirt, we fight, I treat him like my brother, I yell at him, make fun of him, he yells at me, makes fun of me… And then we end up hugging and sometimes kissing and on those very rare occasions, we end up touching each other and it feels so good, I never want it to stop. Until it’s over and I feel guilty and weird over what we’ve done, and I almost want to wish those moments away. Almost. “You don’t?” I croak, clearing my throat. “I mean, she’s nice, don’t get me wrong.” She is so not nice, but whatever. “But I don’t want her to be my girlfriend or anything like that.” “How do you know? You’ve never had a girlfriend before,” I remind him, which is totally weird because Dustin is a catch. He’s smart, he’s cute, he’s a star basketball player and everyone likes him.

“I have a pretty good idea who I’d want my girlfriend to be like.” My heart sinks into my stomach and does a weird loop thing. I want to hear what he has to say, but then again…I don’t. Officially taking it to the next level with Dustin freaks me out. And excites me too. Just a little. “Come on.” He tugs on my hand and starts walking, dragging me along with him. “Let’s go find somewhere more private.” “More private?” My heart is full on racing now. His fingers are tight around mine and he’s walking so fast, I practically have to run to keep up with him. His legs are extra long and mine are super short. “Yeah.” He glances over his shoulder, his gaze smoldering. “I want to be alone with you.” Oh. Crap. Okaaaaay. I don’t protest and wonder if it’s all the beer I’ve consumed. Though I don’t feel that drunk. In fact, I’m fairly sober and yet I’m doing this. Going off with Dustin to somewhere “more private”. And we know what we’ll end up doing once we find that private spot. No need to spell it out, right? We run up the stairs, passing Jordan Tuttle himself who’s talking with a girl I’ve known forever, though we’ve never been that close. Amanda Winters is disentangling herself from his grip and then she’s running down the stairs, her sobs loud enough that I can hear them. My heart immediately aches for her. She sounds so sad. “What’s up, bro?” Dustin asks, noticing the scowl on Tuttle’s face, no doubt. “Everything okay?” “I think she just caught her boyfriend screwing her best friend.” Tuttle’s gaze is locked on the stairwell. “I should go after her. Make sure she’s okay.” Before we can answer, he’s gone, calling Amanda’s name. Ah, another night of drama at a Tuttle party. “Come on.” Dustin’s fingers tighten around mine as he drags me down the extra long hall and into an empty bedroom. He shuts and locks the door behind us and before I can say anything, he has me pressed against the door, his hands at my waist, his mouth locked with mine. Dustin is an excellent kisser. It’s like our lips fit perfectly and he knows exactly what I like. His mouth is warm and soft and damp and when his tongue tangles with mine, I almost want to pass out, it feels so good. Like who needs drugs when you have a boy who can kiss you senseless? Not me. I’ll stick with Dustin’s lips, thanks.

Minutes pass and we’re still kissing, my back pressed against the door and Dustin’s body smashed against mine. “Livvy.” He whispers my name close to my ear, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of my shirt and touching bare skin. I want it. I don’t. I want it so much, yet I don’t. Not with Dustin. Maybe with Dustin? Oh God, I don’t know what to do… Using all of my strength, I push him until he’s stumbling backwards, his expression one of pure shock. I step away from the door, putting much needed distance between us as I try to catch my breath. Calm my racing heart. Make my head stop spinning. “Why’d you stop me?” He sounds hurt. Great. “We, um, shouldn’t really do this. Should we?” I sound confused but guess what? I am confused. Is it smart to mess around with him tonight only to turn around and leave tomorrow? I’ll be gone for almost six weeks. Alone at my dad’s house in Oregon, while Dustin is here with our friends, having fun and maybe…eventually…he’ll find someone new. And that would break my heart. I frown, hating how knotted my stomach becomes at the thought of Dustin with someone else. He wouldn’t do that to me, would he? I don’t think so, but it’s not like we’re in a committed relationship. After all, we’re just friends. * Ahhh, what is Livvy going to do? We’ll be in Dustin’s head with the next chapter so you’ll find out then (next Tuesday!). Don’t forget to vote/comment/share this story with your friends. And don’t forget we are little over a month until the release of JUST FRIENDS. Can’t wait for you all to read it! xo - Monica https://www.instagram.com/justfriendsseries/ http://www.instagram.com/monicamurphyauthor https://www.pinterest.com/msmonicamurphy/justfriends/ http://www.twitter.com/msmonicamurphy http://www.facebook.com/monicamurphyauthor http://www.monicamurphyauthor.com

Chapter 8 - Dustin “You don’t want…” My voice drifts and I clamp my lips shut. So Olivia is asking me if we should “really do this”. Is she for real? I thought she wanted it. When I kissed her just a minute ago, she’d seemed eager. Excited. She tasted good too. She always does. I could kiss her for hours. Hell, there was that one time when I did kiss her for hours, and I never wanted it to stop. Yeah, I know. I’m a complete and total sap for Livvy. And trust me, sometimes it sucks. “I don’t know.” She shrugs, looks away. She’s standing in front of me, but keeping enough distance so I can’t reach out and touch her. Did she plan that? Probably. “Don’t know what?” I’m pushing her, and I know she hates that sort of thing. So do I. We make a great-if sometimes annoying-team. “I don’t know what I want, okay!” She throws her arms up in the air, as if she’s completely exasperated. And maybe she is. I know I am. I’m tired of going round and round with her. Does she like me like that? Does she want more? Or maybe she doesn’t after all? Why do I keep pushing the issue and let her do this to me? If I wanted, I could have Brianne Brown with a snap of my fingers. Sounds arrogant as hell but I’m just being honest. She even said it straight to my face earlier, and I didn’t know what to say. I just smiled and laughed and acted like she was flirting. But I could tell. She was serious. There’s also Emily, who flirts like she means it because she does. She totally means it. I bet if I asked her to give me a blow job, she’d do it. No questions asked. She’d fall to her knees, give me one of those knowing Em smiles, and then go to work. My dick twitches in my shorts at the thought. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” Livvy continues when I don’t say anything. “I’ll be gone for six weeks, and you’ll be here. Hanging out with Em and your other friends. And I’ll be alone, stuck at my dad’s and bored out of my mind. If we were to get-I don’t know-involved, or whatever, before I left, what kind of start to our relationship would that be? While you’re here and I’m in Oregon? Hundreds of miles separating us during the summer would totally suck.” “Are you saying you don’t trust me?” I run a hand through my hair, trying to calm the anger that’s simmering deep within me. I’ve been nothing but loyal to her for years. Does she really believe the minute she’s gone, I’ll chase after someone else?

If we were committed to each other, I’d never do that to her. She has to know this. “No, of course not.” She takes a step toward me. Then another one, until she’s directly in front of me, and her hands are resting lightly on my chest. I can feel her touch burn through my shirt, into my skin and I want to grab hold of her. Kiss her all over again. Make her forget all of this crap she’s telling me. “I don’t want us to start anything-yet. The timing isn’t right.” I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, never tearing my gaze from hers. She looks so sincere, yet a little sad. Like maybe she really does want to start something with me, something real. But yeah, the timing isn’t right. And it’s not like she’ll be gone forever. She’s coming back in a few weeks. The time will go by fast and then she’ll come back. Maybe then, we can be really together. “I’ll miss you while you’re gone.” I touch the side of her face, slide my fingers into her hair. “I’ll miss you too,” she whispers, her eyes falling shut when I run my fingers through her hair. She always likes it when I do that. “Hmm, that’s nice.” That little hum she makes does something to me. Makes my stomach knot and my skin grow hot. I pull her into me and she doesn’t resist. I wrap my arms around her and she slips her arms around my neck, her hands in my hair this time and her touch feels so damn good, I’m going on pure instinct. I close my eyes, touch my mouth to hers and she parts her lips, inviting me in. The kiss goes deep and hot in a second, hands everywhere, a low groan sounding, a whimper following. I slip my hand underneath her shirt, touch her bra and I feel her shiver, her skin dotted with goose bumps. She breathes my name on a sigh and I shift my hands, tightening them on her waist so I can back us both up, until we’re right next to the bed. Carefully I guide her down and she falls back on the mattress, her eyes still closed, her lips parted and dark red hair spread all across the pillow. I watch her, trying to catch my breath, calm myself down. I don’t want to rush this or push her too hard. But I can also barely keep myself from touching her. So I give into my urges, slipping my fingers beneath her shirt, skim them across the flat plain of her stomach. She’s shivering, a little gasp escaping her when I trace the edge of her bra and when I glance up at her face, I see that she’s watching me. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted slightly and when she sneaks her tongue out to lick them, I want to groan in agony. She drives me insane and she has no idea. “I thought…” Her voice drifts and she visibly swallows. “I thought we weren’t going to take this any further tonight.” “We won’t,” I whisper, rubbing my thumb along the soft skin just below her belly button, right above the snap of her shorts. “Nothing that we’ve already done, right.” Liv says nothing and I take that as a positive sign. I undo the button on her shorts, tug down the zipper. Pull her shorts down her long legs, until they’re tangled around her ankles and she’s kicking them onto the floor. She’s wearing black cotton panties and I’m suddenly overcome with the urge to tear

them off. But I remain in check. She’d probably freak out if I did something like that. So I do my best to stay in control. I touch her just right, in all the places she likes, and the places I like too. She touches me with tentative fingers, always hesitant, a little unsure. I always want more, but I never push. I kiss her until my mouth is sore and our breaths are coming so fast, it sounds like we just ran the biggest race of our lives. My heart is racing and I feel like I’m going to explode yet I’m gentle with her. Patient. Always patient. * Afterward, we go downstairs, splitting up when I hit the kitchen and she heads outside to the backyard. I’m sure she’s looking for Em, as usual. I’m looking for beer. Or any type of alcohol I can get, because I’ve lost my buzz and I really need one right now. I get her off every single time, and sometimes I get off too, but not tonight. And I really wanted to, considering she’s leaving tomorrow. But once it was over for her and she became aware of her surroundings, she got nervous when she heard voices just out in the hall. I reassured her nothing bad was going to happen, but she became paranoid and dressed quickly, like we were about to get caught. Leaving me lying on the bed with my shorts around my ankles and a hard on straining against my underwear. Yeah. Freaking sucked. The kitchen is crowded with people and I find a mostly empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter. I grab it and drink straight from the bottle, relishing the burn as the liquor slides down my throat and settles in my belly. I drain the last of it and set the bottle back on the counter, turning to find Em standing in front of me, that always knowing smirk on her face. “Hey.” I wipe at the corner of my mouth with my thumb, catching the last of the whiskey. “Livvy is looking for you.” “Why?” She arches a brow, resting her hands on her hips. She’s…wet, I’d guess from the pool or the hot tub, but she’s got her clothes on. Yet I can see water drops lingering on her skin and her hair is soaked, slicked back from her head and smudges of mascara beneath her eyes. “I don’t know.” I shrug, wishing I had more booze. I’m grabbing a beer as soon as I can get away from Em. “Maybe because she’s leaving tomorrow and wants to spend time with you?” “Oh. Yeah, I’ll miss her.” There’s not even a single note of sincerity in her voice. Damn, this girl has become cold these last few months. “So. What are you up to?” The moment she asks the question, Livvy appears, standing right beside her. “Em! There you are.” “Here I am.” Em holds her hands out and wiggles her fingers, the mocking tone not hard to miss. “What’s going on, girlfriend?”

“Nothing much. Tonight has been…interesting.” Livvy giggles, hooking her arm through mine. Her cheeks are pink and her smile is wide. She’s pretty much glowing, and I can only assume I’m the one who put that look on her face. And corny as it sounds, that makes my chest swell up with pride. They gossip for a few minutes before Livvy excuses herself, saying she has to use the restroom. The second she’s gone Em’s stepping closer to me. So close, her boobs brush against my chest and my boner threatens to make its reappearance. Great. “So what happened? You make her come and she leaves you in agony?” Both of her brows are up with that question. Pretty much. Not that I want to admit that to Em. “We’re fine.” “Uh huh.” She smirks. “Whatever you say. Just know I’m all about guaranteed satisfaction.” Is that supposed to make me feel better? Turn me on? I don’t like that she’s messing around with all these guys and don’t really get why she keeps doing it. I saw her with Cannon Whittaker earlier. That dude loves to party. I’d bet money she left him satisfied. Shaking my head, I glare at her. “Lay off, Em,” I tell her gruffly. Em frowns. “Aw, what? I can’t talk about that kind of thing with you because Livvy will get mad? Are you guys really together now? Does that mean we can’t play around anymore?” I frown. We’ve never “played around” before. And I don’t like her making it sound like we have. “No, we’re not together, but we want to be.” “So why aren’t you?” “Because she’s leaving.” Em started to laugh. “She’s so dumb. I’d have you under lock and key if I was her.” Before I can say anything in Liv’s defense, Em turns and walks away, getting swallowed up by the crowd. I swear I hear her call out Cannon’s name and I glance around, wishing Livvy was standing by me. I could take her hand. Kiss her fingers. Reassure myself that what we have is real and it’s going to get even better once she returns home. It will. I know it. **** I published this on Monday night so y’all can read it bright and early Tuesday morning! What do you

think? Ah, Dustin. I love him. I love all the boys in this story and guess what? There’s ANOTHER ONE you’ll meet in JUST FRIENDS, coming September 13th! In the meanwhile, don’t forget to vote/comment/share this story and add it to your reading list! Thank you so much for reading and for all the fun comments! They make me smile. đ​​ đ​​

Chapter 9 - Tuttle I chase after Amanda through the house, but she’s damn fast. She’s also been crying and seeing her like that when she ran out of one of the upstairs bedrooms, her face crumpled, the pain in her gaze, the tears streaming down her cheeks, it threw me for a fucking loop. Throwing me for a loop even more? I can’t find her. Everyone calls my name as I move through the crowds of people. They’re waving and smiling and desperate for my attention as they try and stop me. They all have something to say and I nod, extracting myself from their grip, their seeking gazes, their too bright smiles. I don’t care what they have to say. All I can think about is Amanda. Where is she? What the hell did that asshole do to her anyway? I have no idea who this so-called boyfriend of hers is, but if I somehow find him, I’m probably going to beat the crap out of him for making her cry. “Tuttle!” I turn to find Lauren Mancini coming for me, her blonde ponytail bobbing like it does when she’s on the sidelines leading the cheers. She is the most popular girl in our class. Perfect on the outside, an epic mess on the inside. At least, that’s how she was that brief, shining moment when we were sort of a couple the beginning of our freshman year. Our relationship lasted about two weeks, if that. “Hey.” I offer her a chin nod. “What’s up?” Her eyes sparkling, she approaches slowly, followed by her friends, every single one of them cheerleaders. They all look the same, right down to the color of their hair, I swear. It’s hard to tell who’s who. “Thought I’d say hi,” she chirps. “Haven’t been to one of your parties in a long time.” That’s because she’d been dating some dude a year older than us who never wanted her out of his sight. Possessive and controlling, they finally broke up right before graduation because he didn’t want to be tied down before he left for college on a baseball scholarship. It’s disturbing I know these particular details, but somehow, I do. “Well, hi.” I briefly flick my gaze away from hers, ready to make my escape. “Gotta make my rounds. So see ya.” Lauren pouts. Whoever told her that was cute, lied. “Don’t leave. We haven’t talked in forever, Jordan. Come on. Fill me in. What’s going on with you?” My entire body tenses at her calling me by my first name. Does she really think I’m going to spill my guts while her friends surround her in the middle of a party? Please. “We have nothing to talk about,” I say tightly, noticing the flicker of hurt in her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”

I leave before she can say anything else. It’s like I can feel her eyes boring holes into my back but I don’t care. I’m in hot pursuit of a certain weeping brunette. And I finally spot her in the kitchen. “Chug, chug, chug,” a group of people surrounding the kitchen island are chanting. One guy is holding a beer bong for the girl sprawled out across the island, her head tilted back as the beer spills into her open mouth. The girl is Amanda. Stunned, I’m frozen in place as I watch her polish off the beer with ease. She sits up, pushing her hair away from her face and beaming at the crowd as they applaud and cheer. Her scooped-neck shirt has fallen low, exposing the turquoise strap of her bra and the guy holding the beer bong leers at her chest, taking a step closer. This prompts me into action. “Okay, show’s over,” I yell as I approach the island. “Everyone move on. Nothing to see here.” A few of them grumble but for the most part they all shuffle out. Bong Boy lingers but I send him a look and he’s out. Leaving me alone with a buzzed Amanda still sitting on my kitchen island. “Hey, you.” She points at me, tilting her head to the side. This throws her off balance and she presses her other hand on the granite to keep her steady. “You own this house.” “Technically, my parents own this house.” I glance down. Her shorts are incredibly short, giving me a view of long, smooth legs. My fingers itch to touch her bare thigh. Her knee. But I restrain myself. Barely. Lifting my head, I meet her gaze once more. “You all right?” She squints at me, her finger still waving in the air. “Uh. Not really. That’s why I needed a drink. A few drinks. To help me forget, you know?” “Forget what?” I have no business asking. Knowing. She shouldn’t tell me anything. “Everything.” She smiles, her gaze hazy, her body swaying. “Oh!” She somehow pitches over and I hold out my arms, Amanda spilling into them. Wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees, I clutch her to me, pressing my face close to her hair so I can take a sniff. Yeah. Like I’m some sort of freaky pervert who gets off on the smell of girls’ hair. But Amanda’s hair smells pretty damn good. “You rescued me again.” She loops her arms around my neck, her fingers brushing against my nape. “You have a habit of doing that.” “You needed to be rescued.” I heft her up in my arms, holding her even closer as I start to move down the short hall just off the kitchen. “Where are you taking me?” She slides her fingers into my hair and my entire body goes tight. Just

from her touching my hair. “Upstairs.” There’s a stairwell at the end of the hall hardly anyone knows about. She stiffens in my arms, her eyes wide as they meet mine. “I don’t want to go back up there.” “Why not?” She weighs nothing. She’s all legs and long dark hair, I swear. I sneak a couple of fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, touching bare skin, but it’s like she doesn’t notice. Which is good because basically I’m copping a feel. “Um well, they could still be upstairs. Doing whatever they were…doing.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust and it’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. “They’re not.” “You don’t know that for sure,” she points out. “I do. Trust me, they’re not up there.” I really don’t know, but I don’t want her to back out and try to get away from me. I just want to take her somewhere we can be alone. So I can watch over her and make sure she doesn’t make a fool of herself or hurt herself or-I grimace. What the hell is wrong with me? I feel like I’m turning into a rescuer like Cannon. “Fine,” she says, sounding reluctant. She won’t even look at me, though she keeps tickling my neck and it’s slowly driving me insane. I don’t get it, the way I feel every time I’m around her. She makes me nervous. She makes me-hell, I may as well just admit it. She makes me horny. Like I want to tear her clothes off and run my hands all over her body and kiss her until she’s a moaning, writhing mess. Yeah. That’s not normal. Not for me. But there’s something about Amanda. There always has been, for years even, and most of the time, I’ve fought it. Dismissed her from my mind. I’m pretty good at that. Dismissing people. Pretending they don’t exist. Tonight, I don’t want to dismiss her. So instead, I take her up to my room. The second I kick the door open she’s struggling against my hold, trying to get away from me. “You are so not bringing me to your room.” I clamp my arms tighter around her wiggling body and nudge the door closed behind me. “Calm down.” “Seriously, Tuttle. I refuse to become another one of your conquests.” She’s at least stopped moving, but she’s also glaring at me with narrowed eyes, her mouth drawn into a tight line.

“Who said you were going to be one of my conquests?” I raise a brow and that one sentence effectively shuts her up. Kind of an asshole thing to say, but I need her to be calm, not trying to leap out of my arms. She says nothing as I approach the bed and carefully set her down so she’s sitting on the edge of the mattress. I take a step back, studying her. She looks around the room, her mouth slowly falling open, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. The room is huge. Every room in this stupid house is massive. My parents don’t understand subtlety or restraint. The more money they make, the bigger everything has to be. Which I get. And can even appreciate. But not right now. Amanda doesn’t appear impressed. More like appalled. Maybe even disgusted. “I could probably fit my entire house in this room,” she finally says, her voice soft. “I doubt that,” I say with a scoff. She lifts her head, her gaze meeting mine. “No, I’m serious. Do you get lost in this house or what?” I chuckle. “When we first moved in here, yeah. I did get lost.” The wary expression is gone, replaced by amusement. “You’re just saying that.” “It’s true. I was nine.” “I remember you when we were nine.” I was a punk ass bully when we were nine. Straight through to middle school I acted like an idiot. I finally straightened out in between seventh and eighth grade. Grew nine inches over the summer, discovered girls and learned quick they don’t like it when you’re mean to them. Well, meanness, they didn’t like. But indifference? That seemed to intrigue them even more. “I remember you too,” I tell her. She laughs, the sound going straight to my gut, making it twist. “I was such a dork.” “Yeah, you were.” The laughter dies but I still see the amusement glittering in her eyes. “You weren’t supposed to agree!” “Why not? It’s the truth. And I was a jerk.” “You were a jerk,” she says vehemently. I shrug. “I know.”

We stare at each other, not saying anything. There’s no need to fill the space with words. I feel like our eyes, our bodies, our everything are quietly communicating. “You aren’t a jerk anymore,” she admits quietly. “You’re wrong.” I hesitate when I see the shock in her gaze. “I’m still a jerk.” The silence now feels like it’s strangling me. I’m about to turn away, leave her alone in my room so I can go outside and get some fresh air when she finally speaks. “You might be a jerk to other girls, but you never really are to me.” ***** Ah, Tuttle and Amanda! I have reason to love them extra hard right now but I can’t share why yet so… stay tuned! Also, did you know you can read chapter one from JUST FRIENDS over on iBooks? You can! Here’s a link: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/justfriends/id1137297173?ls=1&mt=11

Chapter 10 - Emily I finally make my escape from the hot tub, the boys, Cannon, the entire party, by finding a small bathroom. Slamming the door, I lean against it, closing my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly, hating how shaky I sound. I mentally tell myself to get it together, yet everything that just happened flashes through my mind, making me tremble even harder. But really, it was no big deal, right? I shouldn’t let the moment bother me. So what if I was in a hot tub with a bunch of big, burly football players. So what if they were all leering at me, their gazes locked on my chest, their tongues practically hanging out of their mouths. Thank goodness for Cannon Whittaker rushing to my defense. He slipped his arm around my shoulders, his big hand gripping me firmly but not scary tight. Glaring at all of the guys, his expression was freaking scary as he gave them the stare down. “Leave her alone,” he said, his voice so deep, so incredibly menacing, they all practically leapt out of the hot tub to make their escape as soon as possible. I’ve never seen such big guys move so fast, not even when they’re playing on the football field. As I sat there trembling, relishing the full weight of Cannon’s arm resting on my shoulders, I told myself it was no big deal. I sort of asked for their rude behavior, right? I’m the one with the skank reputation at school. A reputation I mostly earned, because I wanted their attention. I wanted to be known as a girl guys liked. I didn’t care how I went about it. At least someone was paying attention to me. But then Cannon turned to look at me, his gaze soft and full of concern, all the anger gone from his face. “Sorry about those assholes. They didn’t mean anything by it.” Yeah. They so did, but I didn’t bother arguing with him. “Are you all right?” The tenderness in his voice, in his gaze, how sincere he sounded…it all got to be too much. So I’d panicked and bailed. Slipped from underneath his heavy arm, climbed out of the hot tub, snagged a towel from a nearby chair and ran away from him. He called my name as I ran away but I ignored him. What could I say? Absolutely nothing. I hid in the corner of the backyard and hurriedly slipped my clothes on, waiting for the moment I could get past Cannon and go back inside the house. And that’s how I ended up in the tiny bathroom, a trembling, confused mess. Turning, I faced the mirror, blinking at my reflection. My mascara was smeared beneath my eyes and my clothes stuck to my damp body. I looked awful. Awful.

Grabbing a tissue from the box on the counter, I wiped the smudged makeup from my face, then washed my hands. Ran my damp fingers through my hair, pushing it back from my face. Someone knocked on the door but I ignored them, turning the water on full blast so I couldn’t hear the music, the knocking, the yelling. I was having a full-blown panic attack in a tiny bathroom at Tuttle’s house on a Friday night. My life couldn’t get much worse. The pounding on the door got louder and I gripped the edge of the marble counter, yelling through clenched teeth, “Give me a minute!” I could tell it was a guy on the other side of the door. He was just some douche wanting to get his girl in here or do drugs. I needed to get out of here. Go home and pull the covers over my head. Try my best to forget this night was even happening. But then I remembered why it was happening. Who I was there for. Livvy. My best friend, my girl was leaving me tomorrow and she’d be gone for the rest of the summer. I don’t know what I’ll do without her. I can hang around with Dustin but it’s not the same. There’s an easiness I have with Livvy I don’t experience with anyone else. Standing up straight, I push away from the counter and go to the door, turning the lock and throwing open the door to find… Cannon standing there, his eyes a little wild as he blinked down at me. “Why’d you run off?” I’m so startled he’s in front of me I just stare at him for a moment before I reply, “Why do you care?” I clamp my lips shut after the words leave me, feeling embarrassed. Ashamed. He’s being nice and I’m crapping all over him. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” he murmurs just before he starts to turn away from me. “Wait.” I grab hold of his arm, my fingers barely reaching around his thick forearm. “I’m sorry.” He glances down at my hand on his arm before lifting his gaze to mine once more. His eyes are… beautiful. A mixture of blues that I find myself becoming a little lost in. “Those guys freak you out?” His voice is gentle, like he’s afraid I might startle easy. I nod, not saying a word, yet still holding on to him. “Did I freak you out?” He looks worried that he might’ve and I almost want to laugh at the absurdity. Instead, I shake my head, still silent. “Good.” The relief in his voice, on his face is obvious. “I’m sorry they were such jerks.” “It’s not your fault.” It’s mine. I want to say those last two words, but I don’t. Admitting faults is not easy for anyone, especially me. He glances to his right, then his left, before he’s shoving his way into the bathroom, quickly shutting

the door behind him. I back up until I hit the counter and I watch him warily as he turns the lock into place, keeping his back to me. “What are you doing?” I ask. Cannon starts toward me and I realize quick I can’t escape. The bathroom is tiny and he’s directly in front of me in seconds, his big hands going to my waist and lifting. I gasp when he sets me on the edge of the counter, my knees spreading when he steps in between them. “You confuse me,” he admits, his voice low, his gaze searching my face. I dip my head, not wanting him to spot my secrets. “I shouldn’t. It’s pretty obvious what I am.” “And what are you?” A joke. A slut. Dumb. Useless. All of those things. None of those things. “I’m not going to do anything with you tonight,” I say as I lift my head, my gaze meeting his once more. He cocks a brow. “I didn’t think you would.” “Then why are we locked up in this tiny bathroom together?” His hands still haven’t left my waist, and they start to move, down over my hips, along the outside of my thighs, and then back up again. He’s touching me in all the good places, and yes, it feels really good, but his touch also feels… Comforting. “Because I think you need to get away from all this.” He goes silent and I know what he’s talking about. The party. The people. The music and the food and the booze and the hot tub and all of it. “And you’re my hero, running in to assist me at a moment’s notice?” I rest my hands on his chest and he sucks in a breath. I know this because I can feel the movement beneath my hands. A surge of power rushes through me, that I can make him react like that. I like it. A lot. “I just wanted to help a girl out.” He removes one hand from my side and circles his fingers around my wrist, clutching it loosely. “You confuse the hell out of me.” His words are a surprise and I’m not really sure how I should answer. “Feeling’s mutual,” I finally whisper. Without any hesitation whatsoever he dips his head and kisses me. It’s my turn to suck in a breath, shocked at that first touch of his lips. They’re warm and soft and taste faintly of beer and I curl my fingers into his T-shirt, not wanting him to escape. “I said I wasn’t going to do anything with you tonight,” I remind him when he breaks the kiss, his mouth still hovering above mine.

“Not even let me kiss you again?” Oh, the sound of his deep, rumbly voice does something to me. Makes my belly flip and my blood run hot. “We shouldn’t,” I say against his lips. He kisses me again, kissing me silent, boneless, brainless. It’s the simplest of kisses. No tongue. No moans, no groans, no wandering hands and hot words of urgency. Instead it’s just…a kiss. That evolves into a series of sweet, lingering kisses that has me leaning into him. Has me parting my lips, wishing he would take it deeper. But he doesn’t. Eventually he pulls away and I open my eyes to find him watching me. His cheeks are ruddy, his eyes a little dazed and his lips-perfect, pink, delectable lips-are damp. “You need more of that in your life,” he says. I frown. “More of what?” His mouth is on mine yet again, in a too brief, too delicious kiss. “More of that,” he whispers. Just before he turns and unlocks the door, making his escape without even a backward glance. **** Ummmm…I’m posting this early. Yay! What did you think of Emily’s chapter? This girl…is a mess. I sort of love being in her messy head! So hey, preorder links are live for JUST FRIENDS. Click here to check them out: http://monicamurphyauthor.com/books/justfriends/

Chapter 11 - Cannon I need to get the hell out of here. Regret runs through me, punishing me hard, pushing me through Tuttle’s house and toward the front door. I ignore everyone-which is hard because I know everyonebut I don’t care what they want to say to me tonight. All I can think about is Emily. The sound of her voice rings in my head. I can’t shake that wary look on her face as she watched me. She didn’t trust me when I first barged into the bathroom, and I can’t blame her. Doesn’t matter that I tried my best to run to her rescue earlier in the hot tub and save her from the assholes on my team. I could easily be lumped in with the rest of those assholes. I’m as bad as the rest of them. So why does Emily make me want to be different? It’s like the moment we just shared is stuck on rewind in my brain. How her body felt beneath my hands. How responsive she was when I kissed her. How much I wanted to take that kiss further, but something held me back. I could sense she was hanging on by a thread. One wrong move would shatter her and I needed to treat her like she was made of glass. “Cannon!” The sound of her voice makes me stop and I turn to watch as she makes her way to where I stand. She stops just in front of me and grabs my hand, interlacing our fingers together. It takes her a moment to speak and I realize she’s trying to catch her breath first. Meaning she just chased after me. Wild. “Why did you leave?” she finally asks. “Why did you come after me?” She squeezes my hand, her gaze never leaving mine. “Why did you kiss me?” Because I can’t resist you? I can’t answer that question truthfully. Instead, I shrug. “I don’t know.” Emily gives me a look, one that says bullshit. “Be real with me right now,” she murmurs. I don’t know how I can hear her soft voice, what with all the noise surrounding us, but I do. As if all of my senses are so completely focused on her, I see and hear nothing else. So it’s my turn to squeeze her hand as I bend forward and dip my head close to hers, her damp hair brushing against my face. She smells good, like strawberries. “There’s something about you that I can’t resist,” I whisper in her ear.

When I pull away, she’s smiling. “Is that a line, Cannon Whittaker?” Shaking my head, I crack a smile as I say, “No ma’am.” She bursts out laughing. “Did you just call me ma’am?” “Yeah.” I shuffle my feet and look down at the floor. Could I be any dumber? “I did.” “Come on. Let’s go outside.” She tugs on my hand and I follow after her, surprised when she takes us through the front door. The moment we walk outside, the air is cooler, a fresh breeze washing over us, and I’m grateful to be out of that house, away from the noise and the heat. I suck in a deep breath as I let her lead me down the front steps, past a couple literally writhing around on the front lawn, their arms and legs intertwined. “Get a room,” Emily yells at them, making me laugh. “Where we going, Em?” I ask her as she leads me past the fence that surrounds Tuttle’s front yard. I’m not sure what she’s up to, but I’m game for whatever as long as I can spend more time with her. “Right here,” she says, pointing to a bench that sits in front of the fence, right at the start of the walkway leading to the front door. “Let’s sit down.” I glance around before sitting on the iron bench, Emily nestled up right next to me. I slip my arm around her shoulders and tug her in closer, liking how easily she fits. Like we were made to sit like this together. Corny as hell, but true. “Um, I hate to tell you this, but if we’re going to make out, we’ll be putting on a public display right here,” I say, my ears going hot the moment the words leave my mouth. I’m such an idiot. I don’t know why I’m embarrassed but I need to get over myself. She giggles. “I didn’t bring you here to hook up, Cannon.” I fight the disappointment that threatens to take over when she glances up at me, amusement glittering in her eyes. The moon is bright at only half full, yet I can see her clearly, her face gilded silver. She’s beautiful. I wonder if anyone has ever told her that. “Then what are we doing?” I ask her, looking around like I’m confused. Because I am confused. By the entire night, by this girl, by the way she’s looking at me, how she kissed me. Everything’s happening so fast and I have no control over it, which is the hard part, you know? I’m usually in control of everything. “Here.” She reaches out and touches her fingers lightly to my jaw, tilting my head back. “Look at the sky.” Emily drops her hand and I lean against the bench, my gaze fixed on all the stars. She leans her head

against my shoulder and stares up at the stars too. “The sky is clearer out here,” I say. “I know,” she says softly. “Not as many city lights blocking the stars. Though the moon is pretty bright so we can’t see as many.” “There’s still a lot up there.” She turns to look at me, her eyes wide and she’s wearing a pretty smile. “Not as many as there would be if the moon was smaller. Right after a full moon, the sky is full of so many stars, no way could you ever count them all.” “Have you ever tried?” Slowly she shakes her head, her smile fading, but not her happiness. No, she looks pleased by my question, by my willingness to sit out here with her and stare at the sky. “I figured it was impossible,” she admits. “Nothing’s impossible,” I say firmly. “Unless you don’t try.” “Are you saying we should try?” “Hell yeah, we should.” The smile is back, fleeting but there, and then she’s kissing my cheek, her lips lingering close to my jaw. I swear I hear her inhale and I wonder if she’s trying to smell me. God knows I’m trying my hardest to smell her. “I like you, Cannon,” she murmurs against my skin. “Oh, yeah?” I’m afraid if I move, I’ll ruin the moment so I stay completely still, desperate to keep her close. Em nods. “Yeah. But don’t let it get around. I don’t want to ruin my reputation.” Her careless, supposedly joking words are like a punch to the gut. I back away from her, frowning. “Why you always gotta bash yourself like that?” “What do you mean?” She scowls. “You don’t want anyone to know that you like me because it’ll ruin your reputation?” I ask incredulously. She looks away, bracing her hands on the edge of the bench seat, offering up a little shrug. I’d bet money she’s gonna bolt any second, but luckily she remains in place. “Don’t act like that with me, Emily,” I tell her, talking to the back of her head. I don’t need to see her face as long as she’s listening to my words. “You’re more than a hook up in the back seat of some asshole’s car. And you’re more than the flirty girl in geometry class who pretends it’s okay when the guys make hand gestures at her. Like it’s funny they’re pretending to ask for a hand job when that shit isn’t funny at all.”

Her shoulders flinch at my reminder. I’d seen some guys in the class we had together do that to her time and again and she always laughed. Brushed it off. At first I thought she was cool. Then I thought the guys were jerks. Then I pulled them aside one day after class and told them to stop with the crude gestures or I’d beat the shit out of them. They never gestured at her again. She has no idea I made that stop. “You don’t know me,” she says quietly, still facing away from me. “So don’t act like you do.” “I’d like to get to know you.” She glances over her shoulder, her gaze meeting mine, and I swear her eyes are damp with unshed tears. “Please. You just want to feel me up in the hopes I’ll fall to my knees for you.” Okay, now I’m sorta pissed. “When did I ever say that? When did I even act like that’s all I want from you?” When she says nothing, I forge on, anger making my voice thunderous. “I’ve been nothing but a gentleman toward you all damn night so at least give me some credit.” “Why? In the hopes it might score you a blow job?” She leaps to her feet, her hands resting on her hips. “Please. I’m not falling for your shit, Cannon.” “It’s not shit.” I rise to my feet too, standing above her, my anger fading quickly. I wish I could pull her into my arms and give her a hug. I’m thinking she really needs one right about now. “I’m being completely honest with you, Em.” “You’re a player.” She flings the words at me like an accusation. “You’ve gone out with so many girls I’ve lost count.” It’s never fun to have your reputation thrown at you, that’s for sure. And since when was she keeping count of the girls I’ve been with? “So? It doesn’t mean I haven’t been waiting, looking for the right one.” Her mouth drops open and she’s staring at me like I’m crazy. “What are you saying?” I shrug. “Assume whatever you want.” Her gaze falls to the empty bench before it returns to me. “You still want to look at the sky?” “You still want to sit with me?” Her mood changes are a trip. She nods slowly. “You won’t try any fast moves?” “That’s not why I’m here.” Releasing a shuddery breath, she walks back over to the bench and sits down, patting the empty space beside her. “Then let’s do this.”

I go and sit down, stretching my arm along the back of the bench, careful not to touch her. Let’s do this. **** Aw, Cannon! These two are a mess, aren’t they? We’re getting closer to the end…and to the release of JUST FRIENDS (out 9/13)! All preorder links are live so check them out here: http://monicamurphyauthor.com/books/justfriends/

Chapter 12 - Amanda I’m in Tuttle’s room. I’m on Tuttle’s bed. It is definitely the most surreal moment of my life, I must tell you. He’s half-sitting/half-lying next to me, the both of us propped against a mountain of pillows, staring up at the ceiling, which has-I kid you not-twinkle lights. It’s not like my room, where I strung white Christmas lights around my iron headboard because I saw it on Tumblr once and thought it was cute. Though of course, my version is never as cute as the Tumblr version. And it’s not like the old plastic glow in the dark stars I had stuck on my ceiling when I was a little kid either. No, this is a sophisticated magical array of stars in a velvety night sky, strewn across Tuttle’s ceiling. It’s crazy. It’s awesome. It must’ve cost a fortune. I have a feeling this is the theme of Tuttle’s life. His bed feels like a cloud, soft and cuddly. The pillows are that perfect combination of firm yet sinkable-soft. I can feel his gaze on me, checking me out every once in a while, though he might be on watch, waiting for me to lose my mind or barf my guts out, considering I’m kind of buzzed. But otherwise, he doesn’t really say anything. We’ve been silent for approximately two minutes and already I feel like I’m going to burst. Maybe it’s the alcohol. I drank a lot of beer earlier-beer bongs are dangerous-and my head is currently spinning. This is the reason I’m laying down. Tuttle made the suggestion and while at first I balked, complaining about how many other girls he’s had to his room, he just shook his head, took my arm and guided me to the extra large bed in the center of his room. Where I gratefully collapsed on top of it, sighing with happiness when the bed/cloud embraced me. I went completely still when he stretched out next to me, his body so close I could feel his warmth and I discreetly breathed in his scent. He smells like a citrus pine tree, which sounds weird but smells delicious. Trust me. Remember, this is Jordan Tuttle I’m talking about. Finally I can’t take it anymore. I need to talk. I need to talk to Tuttle and ask him what’s up with him being so nice to me. I want to ask if he knows what happened to Thad and Tara, but then I tell myself I don’t care what happened to them. They are the rottenest scum of the earth. They are lower than the rottenest scum of the earth. They are everything I despise and hate and want to destroy. Dramatic much?

Yet my heart hurts too much over their betrayal, so I don’t want to talk about them at all, let alone think about them. I don’t want to talk about Tuttle’s motives either. So I stick with the safe stuff. “What’s up with the stars?” I nudge his arm with my elbow and wow, his arm is rock hard with muscle. I’m tempted to skim my fingers over his biceps but I keep myself under control. What if he slapped my hand away? Talk about mortifying… “You like them?” I glance over in his direction to find him watching me yet again. This guy likes to stare, but it’s not creepy. No more like it’s kind of hot because with the way he’s intently staring at me, I feel like I’m the only girl in his universe. “They’re amazing,” I admit when I realize he’s waiting for an answer. He stares up at the ceiling once more. “They’re also in our movie screening room. Something about the material helps with acoustics. Back when the house was being built, my mother had a moment of supposed good-mom feelings and decided my room needed stars in the ceiling too.” He hesitates, then murmurs in a higher pitched voice, “Nothing but the best for my baby boy.” My heart actually aches at all the sarcasm and bitterness I hear in his tone. He doesn’t like his mother. That much is clear, just by that one sentence. “You’re their only child?” “I have a sister. She’s thirty-two, married with three kids and miserable.” His gaze remains fixed on the stars twinkling down upon us. “I’m the let’s-see-if-we-can-save-our-marriage-baby. My sister was fifteen when I was born and she’s resented the hell out of me ever since.” “Your family sounds…” My voice drifts because what can I say? They sound miserable? Awful? Rude? “Fucked up? Yeah, we are.” He chuckles, but there’s no humor there. “We’re the classic case of money doesn’t always make you happier. I know that sort of thing pisses people off, so let’s not talk about it.” “Talk about what? The fact that you’re richer than anyone else at our school, yet you’re miserable and your family sucks?” When he frowns at me I sit up and start gesturing with my hands, jabbing my finger at him like I’m a nut job. I’m thinking the beer is making me bold. “I don’t feel sorry for you. You can have whatever you want. Buy whatever you want, go to the college of your dreams and sleep in a room with fake stars twinkling above your head every single night. Your life is everyone’s dream come true.” He slowly shakes his head, his gaze growing darker. He almost looks…disappointed? In me? “Now you’re all pissed off. I told you we shouldn’t talk about it.” “Whatever. I’m not falling for your poor little rich boy routine.” I wave a hand, dismissing his words and he laughs. Actually laughs, the sound full bodied and rich and wonderful. His laugh does something to my insides. Twists them up and reminds me that I’m totally overstepping my boundaries with Jordan Tuttle while sitting on his giant bed in his giant room. Oh, and I can’t forget that we’re all alone and there’s this weird crackling energy brewing between us. Chemistry? Is that what it feels like?

No freaking way. Not me and Tuttle. “You really think I’m a poor little rich boy?” he asks with a frown. I point at him, ready to blurt out a big hell yes, when he snatches my hand and curls his fingers around mine. His thumb skims across my palm slowly and tingles scatter over my skin, making me hyper aware of his proximity. “Aren’t you?” I sound breathless. My heart is racing from his touch and he glances down at our linked hands, which of course allows me to see just how thick his eyelashes are. But what’s worse? The eyelashes or his beautiful blue eyes? Kill me now. He is too gorgeous for words. “Yeah. I guess I am.” His gaze lifts to mine and lingers. “So you don’t feel sorry for me?” “Who in their right mind ever feels sorry for you?” I laugh nervously, but the sound dies in my throat when he gently tugs on my hand so I have no choice but to move closer to him. “Is this the beer talking, Mandy?” His voice is low, his gaze locked on mine and I swallow hard, almost too scared to speak. Frowning, I let my gaze roam over his face. He has great skin, the bastard. Not a zit in sight. I’m still recovering from the honker I had on my cheek last week thanks to PMS. I can see stubble skimming his jaw and my fingertips literally itch to touch him there. “No.” Um, be real. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. Why do you ask?” “You don’t strike me as the type to be this…” “Crazy?” I supply for him. “Weird? Pushy?” He cracks a smile, his eyes lighting up and I suck in a breath. Now is not the time to freak out over the beauty that is Jordan Tuttle. I need to remain calm. Focused. Normal. Ha. Let’s see if I can actually keep my crap together. “Bold,” he offers. “You’re always so quiet in class.” “That’s because I don’t want anyone to notice me,” I admit. “I notice you.” He hesitates. Reaches out with his free hand and pushes a wayward strand of hair away from my forehead. “I have for years.” Okay. He can’t just go and say things like that. His words make my heart feel like it just tripped over itself and they give me this weird hope. I should be devastated tonight. Crying my eyes out over Thad and Tara’s betrayal and while yes, I did cry over their betrayal and I drank too much beer and acted the fool for all of about ten minutes, I don’t feel sad at this particular moment. No, I feel excited. Intrigued. Blown away.

I need to focus on the blown away part because come on. He doesn’t like me. He’s just trying to make me feel better. He knows I’m upset over what I discovered and he’s offering me comfort. That’s all. But when does he offer comfort to anyone? He doesn’t give a crap about girls and their silly feelings. He’s too self-absorbed, too wrapped up in his own issues. He’s selfish. Everyone says so. Everyone. “Don’t lie to me, Tuttle.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat, fighting the urge to close my eyes when his fingers continue to blaze a path across my face. They drift over my cheek, along my jaw, his thumb coming perilously close to the corner of my mouth. Then they’re sliding into my hair and he cups the side of my head. I feel his breath flutter across my face when he whispers two words. “It’s Jordan.” My eyes slowly open to find his face right in mine. So close I can count every eyelash, can see the faint scar in the corner of his right eye. He’s watching me expectantly, like he’s waiting for me so I say something brilliant. “Huh?” “My name. Don’t call me Tuttle.” Now he does touch my mouth with his thumb and oh, wow, I wanna melt. He dips his head and comes closer, his mouth hovering just above mine and it takes everything within me to keep my eyes open. I want to remember every second of this moment. Closing my eyes might mean I’ll miss something. “Call me Jordan.” “Jordan…” I start but the next word is silenced. By his lips. ***** I don’t know about you, but Tuttle makes me swoon. There. I said it. I’m #TeamTuttle :) Let me know what you think of the chapter and don’t forget to comment/vote/share this story with your friends! We are getting down to the last six chapters before ONE NIGHT ends and then JUST FRIENDS is out on September 13th! Thank you all soo much for reading this story. I appreciate each and every one of you!!! â​¤ď¸​

Chapter 13 - Tuttle I couldn’t resist kissing her. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve noticed her for years. I have. Even when we were younger and I was nothing but an irritating thirteen year old, awkward as hell and uncomfortable with the way Amanda Winters made me feel every time I looked at her. She made my heart pump a little faster, my head would spin and this sort of hunger would form low in my belly that had nothing to do with food. She’d smile at her friends and I wished she’d smile at me like that. She’d swing her long, smooth dark hair over her shoulder and I wanted to touch it. Run my fingers through the silky strands and hear her sigh with pleasure. Yeah. Weird thoughts for a thirteen year old but I couldn’t help it. I’ve wanted Amanda with an almost painful longing that’s gone on for years. A longing I’d shoved deep down inside of me, hoping I’d forget all about it. But opportunity presented itself and here she is, in my arms, my mouth on hers. And she tastes like heaven. Heaven and beer and the faintest hint of something sweet, that must belong only to her. I give in to my long repressed urges and touch her hair, thread my fingers through it and the strands are as soft as I’d imagined. I keep the kiss on the chaste side, not wanting to push too hard in case she bolted on me. She did just happen to see her boyfriend boning her best friend earlier. That’s some straight up bullshit right there, and I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage of her in her fragile state. Hell. I wonder if she does I’m taking advantage of her. I realize quick she’s not reacting to my mouth on hers. Her entire body is stiff, like she’s frozen solid and I know I’ve either scared her or freaked her out. I pull away from her lips and stare at her face, willing her eyes to open. When they do, she’s watching me with a wariness that worries me. I also can’t help but wonder who she’s more afraid of-me or herself. “Why did you kiss me?” she asks, her voice a faint croak. She clears her throat and averts her gaze, her cheeks going pink with embarrassment. “Did you not want me to?” She meets my gaze once more, her teeth sinking into her lower lip for a moment before she says, “Your timing is awful.” “Because you still have feelings for the asshole who cheated on you with your best friend?” Amanda’s eyes go wide before she bursts out laughing. “Nothing like getting right to the point,” she says once the laughter dies. I shrug one shoulder. Don’t say anything. We’re still lying on my bed, our bodies so close I can feel the warmth of her body radiate toward mine. I could lean right over and settle my lips on hers and

make her forget that loser boyfriend of hers for good. Slip my arm around her waist and pull her flush against me. It wouldn’t take much at all to push this farther. But I won’t. I should keep my distance and let her make the next move. She bends her head, her hair rustling against my pillow she’s lying on. Will it smell like her when she leaves? Holy shit, my thoughts about her make me feel like a perv. “It hurts, knowing that they’ve done-that. I would’ve given him whatever he wanted too. He just never pushed the issue. I was perfectly willing. So why did he mess around with my best friend?” Anger swells up inside of me and I stuff it down. She was perfectly willing to give that asshole whatever he wanted and he still went off and cheated on her. What was wrong with the guy? If she were mine, I’d treat her like a goddamn princess. If she were mine, she’d never doubt how I felt about her. I’d do my best to show her how I feel every damn day, just to bring a smile to her face. Just to make her happy. “But I shouldn’t talk about that sort of thing with you, right? Like you’re even interested in me, but you know what I mean. And talk about tacky, considering I’m rambling on about my stupid boyfriend and you just kissed me. Not that it was much of a kiss…” Her voice drifts and I slip my fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face up so she has no choice but to look at me. “Not much of a kiss?” Her words are a challenge and I’m ready to conquer. “You weren’t impressed, huh?” She makes a cute little face. “I think you kissed me just to shut me up.” Her voice drops. “Or because you feel sorry for me.” “I feel sorry for you?” I drop my fingers from beneath her chin. This girl has no clue. “Well, yeah. I’m me and you’re you and here I am at your house, a drunken sad mess and you feel bad, right? Just watching out for me, which makes you a stand up guy, seriously. All of my past thoughts about you being a complete jerk are banished for good, so thanks for that.” I’m incredulous. “You really thought I was a jerk?” “Well, duh.” She rolls her eyes and giggles. I’m thinking she might still be a little buzzed. “You’re the one who basically said so earlier, right?” “Right.” I just thought she was going along with me. Or maybe remembering our early middle school days, when I had a giant chip on my shoulder with my parents’ names scrawled across it. My bad attitude got me into a lot of trouble back in the day. “So thank you.” She smiles and reaches out to touch my chest and I swear to fucking god, her fingers burn through the thin material of my T-shirt. “For being so nice to me tonight. You’re really sweet. I’m just glad I didn’t throw up on your bed or something awful like that.” I capture her wrist with my fingers before she can yank her hand away from my chest. I hold her there, my thumb skimming the soft skin of her inner wrist. Her eyes go wide again and her breaths

quicken the longer I touch her. I’m not letting her go. I can’t leave it like this. “You think I’m sweet,” I say. She nods, her eyes luminous in the dim light of my bedroom. “And that our kiss was less than impressive,” I add. She doesn’t nod at that statement. Smart girl. “Oh, and you think a guy like me can’t like a girl like you,” I remind her. “Why is that?” “I-I don’t know.” “You have an idea, Mandy.” I scoot closer, my legs brushing against hers, my grip still tight on her wrist. “Tell me why.” She says nothing. Just stares at me with those wide, unblinking eyes, a shuddery breath escaping her. I release my hold on her wrist and slip my hand around her neck, cupping her nape. She sucks in a breath, her eyes falling closed when I lean in close, my mouth at her ear as I whisper, “Tell me why I wouldn’t be interested in a beautiful, smart, funny girl like you.” Turning my head, I press my lips to her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair, her skin, everything about her. A sigh escapes her when I start to kiss the soft skin there and I’m overcome with the need to devour her. But I keep my urges in check. With Amanda, I can’t mess up. I gotta take this slow. Do this right. Somehow I end up rolling her over on her back and I’m hovering above her, my knees on either side of her hips, my mouth still on her neck. Her hands are resting on my shoulders, like she’s desperate to hold on for dear life. When I finally lift my head and our gazes meet, I ask, “Do you want me to stop?” She slowly shakes her head and I lean in, running my lips along the delicate line of her jaw, her chin, her cheek. I’m trying to drive her crazy. I want her wanting my mouth on hers so damn bad, she’ll forget she ever said our kiss was just okay. What we could have would never be considered average. I know it. Just being close to her like this has me feeling like I could burst into flames at any given moment. I know she feels it too. Her entire body is trembling and I know it’s not because she’s cold. It’s because of me. “Tell me what you want,” I murmur against her soft skin. She turns her head so our mouths are perfectly aligned, our gazes locked, hers dazed, mine I’d guess determined. “Can you say it, Amanda?” Her damp lips part and I stare at them, transfixed. Her tongue darts out to touch the corner and I want

to groan in agonized frustration. She drives me out of my mind and she has no freaking clue. “Kiss me again,” she whispers. Hesitates for a moment before she continues. “Please?” I waste no time. I kiss her like I’m absolutely starved for her, which isn’t too off base. The kiss deepens in an instant, our tongues tangling, one of her hands going to the back of my head, slender fingers sliding through my hair and gripping me tight. I literally growl against her lips when she tugs on my hair extra hard and she actually giggles. Giggles. “Unbelievable. Now you’re laughing at me,” I murmur against her giggling mouth. “Not at you. At your growl.” She tugs on my hair again so I growl in warning and she giggles even harder. “You’re too cute,” she tells me. “You think this is cute?” I thrust my hips against her slowly, showing her exactly what she’s doing to me and her eyes nearly bug out of her head when she feels me. “Jordan…” My name falls off her lips just before I kiss her again. And then it’s on. My hands are under her shirt and her hands are under mine and our legs are tangled up together. We roll onto our sides facing each other, our mouths still locked and then she’s rolling again, until she’s on top of me, straddling my hips with her long legs draped over either side of me. “Now I’m in charge,” she says triumphantly after she breaks the kiss, her thighs squeezing my hips and driving me out of my ever lovin’ mind. “I surrender,” I tell her with a faint smile. “Use me. Abuse me. Get your revenge.” She slips down my body, her hands busily shoving my shirt up to almost my armpits when she pauses and lifts her head, frowning as her gaze meets mine. “Get my revenge?” I can’t concentrate for shit. Her mouth is too damn close to where I want it-on my stomach. Though I can think of an even better place she can put her mouth on me. “Yeah. For what your boyfriend and best friend did to you tonight. Use me.” That’s a good enough reason, right? ***** Ah, Tuttle & Amanda are the cutest! It’s a race to the end now peeps - we have 5 more chapters and then ONE NIGHT is finished. And then you can read JUST FRIENDS, which comes out September 13th at all major book retailers! I can’t wait! Please don’t forget to comment/vote/share this story with your friends! Thank you for reading!!! xo http://monicamurphyauthor.com/books/justfriends/

Chapter 14 - Cannon Em’s practically in my lap and I’m not pushing her off. We’re not going at it or anything, she’s just snuggled up so close to me that I’ve slowly hauled her in closer. Closer. Even closer… She’s resting her head against my shoulder, strands of her fragrant hair in my face. She’s been pointing out constellations out to me for the past thirty minutes, rattling off facts that are both interesting and boring, all at once. Boring only because I’m sort of drunk and her sweet voice is lulling me to sleep. I’m not even looking at the sky anymore. I’m savoring the sound of her voice, her soft skin as I run my fingers up and down her shoulders and arm. My touch makes goose bumps rise and she shivers every once in a while. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?” she asks after a few quiet minutes pass and I startle at her question, my eyes popping open to find her staring up at me, her expression full of amusement. “I was totally listening,” I lie, sitting up straighter but not giving up my hold on her. “You were not.” Em jabs me in the ribs with a pointy elbow, but she’s also smiling so I know she’s not too mad. “I put you to sleep!” “Only because I was so comfortable sitting here with you like this,” I tell her, not wanting her pissed at me. She’s touchy. One minute she’s coming on to me, the next she’s trying to push me away, and then a few minutes after that, she’s on the run. She’s confusing. Intriguing. I’ve never really liked a challenge before. I like my girls easy. I want to know what they want without having to think about it too hard. Maybe go on a date, usually just hang out and talk and laugh. Sometimes have a drink or five, smoke a J, end up wrapped around each other in my truck or in my room or hers or out at the park or…whatever. Wherever. I’m an uncomplicated guy. “I really didn’t bore you?” she asks. Shaking my head, I meet her gaze, hoping she can see the sincerity in my eyes. “No. I like how passionate you are about the stars. I liked listening to you. It’s just maybe I liked listening to you a little too much…and yeah, you caught me. I was totally drifting off and that was rude of me. Sorry.” Em watches me, her head tilted to the side, her expression completely unreadable. “You are too good to be true, you know that?” I frown. “What do you mean?” Swear I can’t win with this girl. “You’re totally hot, you’re a popular football player and all the girls love you and I’m pretty sure the teachers love you too. You’re like this fantasy high school character straight out of a movie or a

novel. A jock with a heart of gold and proper manners that just wants to help the school’s bad girl find her lost dignity.” That last sentence makes me wince because she nailed me on the head, and that’s embarrassing as hell. “Yet I’ve also seen you hanging out with total skanks who have worse reputations than I do,” Em continues, holding nothing back. “I seriously don’t get you.” “I don’t get you either,” I toss back at her, being one hundred percent honest. “You don’t make much sense.” “Neither do you.” She raises her brows in seeming challenge. Yeah. She’s right. I never act like this with a girl. Only Em makes me want to…I don’t know. Protect her? Watch out for her? Make sure she doesn’t do anything to hurt herself or put herself at risk? I treat her like she’s fragile, like I don’t want to hurt her delicate feelings, but she’s looking at me right about now with enough fire in her eyes to set me aflame. So who’s the delicate one tonight, huh? Clearing my throat I say, “Maybe together we could…” What? Make sense? Like I can tell her that. She’d run screaming from Tuttle’s house and considering we’re so far out of the city limits, she’d probably get lost forever. “What? Get it on and have some fun? Okay. That sounds perfect.” She eagerly climbs on top of methere’s no other way to describe it-and then she’s right there, her chest in my face, her arms slung around my neck, her mouth pressed against my forehead. I stare down at her tits, all that creamy skin on display. I’m tempted to bury my face in her cleavage and give her exactly what she wants, but for some weird reason, I hold back. Stupid. I know what I’m doing is totally stupid but damn it, this thing between us isn’t just going to burn out after tonight. I don’t want it to. “Oh my God, you’re so big and hard and…” She grabs hold of my face with both hands and forces my head back, her mouth landing on mine with precise, expert skill. I lose myself in the taste of her lips for a moment, because damn, the girl has a mouth on her like no other. The kiss is eager and hot, deep and full of tongue and my hands move to her ass almost unconsciously. I’m squeezing her, pulling her in as close as I can get her, and she’s basically dry humping me by the time I break the kiss, trying to catch my breath. And possibly catch the remaining brain cells that are desperate to make a run for it. All because of a kiss from the most confusing girl on this planet. “Slow down,” I whisper when she tries to put her mouth over mine again. “Gimme a minute.” Her sigh of frustration is obvious and I smooth my fingers over her butt, trying to calm her down. But that only seems to infuriate her more because she disentangles her body from my grip and climbs off of me in a matter of seconds. “I don’t want to give you a minute,” she says, frustration lacing every one of her words. “I want all of

you right now.” “Here? On a bench in front of Tuttle’s house?” I glance around, noting that we’re mostly alone but I do spot a couple out on the lawn nearby. A couple who appear mostly naked and are wildly groping each other so I avert my eyes, turning to face Em once more. “I don’t think so.” She stomps her foot like a pouty little kid and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Why not? What’s the big deal? Since when did you get a moral compass or whatever?” What the hell is a moral compass? I’m not about to ask. I don’t want to look like a dumbass. I’m not stupid but sometimes I worry I’m not the brightest bulb around. When I was younger homework wasn’t a priority and tests and all that, they never came easy for me. People like Tuttle always make me feel less than. The guy is way too smart for me and he knows it. And I don’t like how Em just made me feel like an idiot too. “So I should have left you to the assholes in the hot tub? Is that what you wanted?” I’m yelling and she’s taking a step back, like she needs the distance. That makes me feel bad and I clamp my jaw shut, trying to calm down. “Yeah, you should’ve. I did want them. You’re the one who decided to step in and become my hero.” She spits out that last word like it’s a dirty one. “Haven’t we already had this argument?” I ask wearily. I slump back against the bench and rub my eyes with my hands, keeping them there for a moment before I drop them so I can look at her. “This is ridiculous.” “Yeah. It is. So I’m gone.” With that she turns on her heel and walks away, never once looking back. I don’t say a word. I don’t stop her or chase after her. Hell, I don’t even know exactly what just happened. All I know is, I’m too exhausted to go after her. She’s too much for me. She probably always will be. ***** Hey I’m posting this chapter early! The chapters will be coming faster and closer together as the release date for JUST FRIENDS draws near. It’s out September 13th and I’m soooo excited! Thank you everyone for reading this story - these last few chapters are my favorite. Don’t forget to vote/comment/share!!! xoxo Monica

Chapter 15 - Emily I head back toward Tuttle’s house, wiping my fingers beneath my eyes to get rid of the tears. Stupid, irritating tears. Like I’m sad over what happened between Cannon and I. He means nothing to me. I don’t even know him. All I wanted to do was get off and he had to go and ruin it for me. Act polite and crap when that was the last thing I wanted. I just wanted to lose myself, you know? Get caught up in his kisses and the way he touches me. I like how his big hands feel sliding all over my body, the way he squeezed my butt with them. He’s big and strong yet gentle and…sweet. Frowning, I mentally shove Cannon out of my thoughts. I don’t care about his sweetness. He’s of no use for me tonight. I need to find someone else. Someone willing, ready and able. I ignore the front door and walk around the side of the house toward the backyard, where the party is still in full swing. The pool is crowded with people, some of them wearing swimsuits, some of them buck ass naked. I see one guy who graduated a few days ago jumping into the pool with a bottle of tequila in one hand, his swim trunks falling past his very white butt before he makes a gigantic splash in the water. “Total waste of good booze!” someone yells while plenty of other people boo and give the guy a bunch of grief when his head pops up out of the water. He grins good-naturedly, his gaze snagging on mine when I come to a stop near the pool. I return his stare, trying my best to remember his name. Nathan? Nate? Nathanial? Wait-Noah. His name is Noah. He played basketball with Dustin and while he’s a nice guy, he’s nothing special. As in, he’s not some hot, gorgeous player fighting off a bunch of girls. Meaning, he’s the perfect guy for me to hook up with tonight. “Nice jump,” I tell him as I slowly approach the pool. He stays where he’s at, treading water, the tequila bottle long gone. “My friends are pissed that I ruined their alcohol.” “Isn’t there enough inside?” I arch a brow. Noah smirks. “Yeah, but they spent forty dollars on that shit, so they’re mad.” Understandable. Who buys forty dollar tequila before coming to Tuttle’s house? Clearly these guys haven’t partied here before. “Their loss.”

His gaze roams over my body, lingering on my legs for a while before he speaks. “You coming swimming?” I shrug. “I did earlier.” “Don’t you wanna cool off?” “Don’t you wanna warm up?” The smile I send him is practiced. As in, I’ve literally sat in front of a mirror in my room and practiced this smile again and again. I’m trying to hook him. Reel him in. Looks like it’s working. He goes to the ladder and grabs the handles, hauling his lanky body out of the water. He’s tall and thin, his skin pale and his black swim trunks barely clinging to his narrow hips. I normally like them bigger-this makes me think of Cannon, ugh-but this boy will do. When he stops in front of me, Noah shakes his head, water droplets spraying everywhere and reminding me of a dog. I scowl as he runs his hand over his short brown hair, and I take a step back as I continue to get showered with water. “What’s your name again?” he asks, like we’ve talked before. We might’ve seen each other around when I went to Dustin’s basketball games but we’ve never been introduced. “Emily, but call me Em.” I beam at him. “And you’re Noah. Star basketball player.” His cheeks turn ruddy and he waves me off, almost like he’s bashful. Please. “I wouldn’t call myself a star.” “Come on. Don’t be modest. I watched you play a lot of games. You’re amazing.” I put on the awed tone, knowing boys like it when I talk like that and from the spark that lights Noah’s eyes, I see it’s worked. Everything’s working. It’s almost too easy. “My team was pretty good.” That’s true. They won their regional championships tournament. “But I’m not that amazing. Trust me. Couldn’t even get a scholarship for college.” His expression turns hard and I realize I’m losing him fast. “Their loss!” I sound way too chipper so I dial it down. “Where are you going to college?” “Community for a year, maybe two. Then I’m going to transfer.” He sounds bitter and I guess I can’t blame him. That’s the last thing I want to do too. That means I’m stuck here and I’ll feel trapped. My parents would probably want me to still live with them and while it’s the obvious choice, helping me save money and all that, I want to make my escape from them as soon as I can. Not that they notice me, or care. They’re too focused on their own lives to worry about mine.

“Well, at least you can still hang out with us, right?” That was the wrong thing to say. I see his expression fall and his gaze dims. I need to cheer him up fast. Threading my arm through his, I lean into his cool body, pressing my cheek against his upper arm for the briefest moment. “Let’s go get something to drink, okay?” We find some beer and make small talk. He complains about his friends, who are now nowhere to be found, and I complain about mine, who are probably still around but hopefully they won’t notice me. He grumbles about a girl he had a major crush on the last half of the school year and how she never even noticed him. “She was in band. In your grade.” He flicks his chin at me and I frown, not sure who he’s talking about. “Aren’t they all a bunch of weirdoes anyway? Why’d you like her?” I tease with a giggle, pretending I’m already buzzed. I wish I was. I think I’m gonna need it to get through the rest of tonight. “She was cute.” He shrugs. Takes a sip from his beer before he continues. “She had that whole innocent thing going on. Like I knew she was a total virgin yet she was probably hot for it, you know?” I cannot believe he’s talking to me about this. Worse, I know exactly what he’s referring to because he’s describing me in a nutshell. Just because I’ve given a few extra hand jobs and blow jobs during my junior year does not mean I’ve given it all up. I’m still a virgin, though I’d like to change that status by summer ’s end. I’m tired of it hanging on to me like some sort of invisible cloak of purity. Screw it. I wanna get laid. “What’s her name?” I ask, curious. “Tara. I don’t remember her last name.” Noah grins at me and I smile back, a little repulsed by his crooked smile. I’m mean. I shouldn’t judge. But I am totally judging right now and this guy needs braces. “I don’t know her,” I tell him. “Don’t worry about her. Screw her.” His grin widens. “I have you tonight. I don’t need her.” “Is she here?” “Yeah. I saw her earlier.” Noah scowls. “With some wimpy looking douche. She was hanging all over him. It pissed me off.” “Oh, well yeah. Forget her.” I scoot closer to him, my side flush against his. Reaching out, I rest my hand on his thigh and slip my fingertips just beneath the damp hem of his swim trunks. “You’re right. You do have me tonight.”

He dips his head and presses his mouth to mine. There’s no finesse, no sweet, innocent kisses to warm me up. His tongue thrusts inside my mouth like an angry animal, busily searching for mine and I withdraw from him, my hand now on his bare chest, keeping him at a distance. “I don’t want to do this here.” I smile at him, hoping it’ll ease the sudden lust that’s seized him but he doesn’t look happy. “Where then? My truck is parked out in the field.” My smile is so wide and fake it hurts. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Noah takes my hand and we dash around the pool, ignoring the catcalls from everyone hanging out nearby. I’m scanning the entire backyard as best as I can, making sure I don’t see Liv or Dustin or worse, Cannon close by, but no one’s around. I’m almost disappointed. Noah brings me to his beat up old Ford truck and opens the passenger door for me, practically pushing me inside. I rest my suddenly clammy hands in between my thighs, trying my best to focus my thoughts but my head is spinning. Did I drink one beer or two when I was talking to Noah? I don’t remember. I’ve drank a lot tonight and most of the time, I felt perfectly fine. A little buzzed, a lot turned on, especially when I was with Cannon, but for the most point, I’m good. Right now, I’m not feeling so good. At all. Noah slides inside, behind the steering wheel and then throws his chair back so he’s lying there, a tent already forming in the front of his swim trunks. I try not to stare at it, but wow. We kissed once. Could he get that worked up over a sloppy kiss that lasted all of fifteen seconds max? I guess so. “Come here.” He wags his fingers at me and then grabs my hand, pulling me over so I’m lying on top of him, my face in his. Then he’s kissing me, his wet, gaping mouth coming at me like he’s about to swallow me whole and for a while, I let him continue. I try to slow him down, try to pull away from him but he won’t give up the horrific kissing. His hands are on my boobs and he’s twisting and turning them both like I’m the volume control on a car radio. Back and forth, back and forth… It sucks. Batting his hands away, I shift to my side, drape my body over the center console and smile coyly at him while I reach for the string on the waistband of his swim trunks. “What do we have here?” I ask teasingly. “Why don’t you open them up and find out?” Noah bends his arms behind his head and lies back like he has all the time in the world. And I have to be honest-I’d rather go down on him than deal with his obnoxious kissing and greedy

hands. This is so much easier. Blow jobs I can control. My emotions? Big muscly guys who want to be my knight in shining armor? I can’t handle them. At all. ****** Oh, Em! She has issues, especially since she pushed Cannon away. I’ll offer you up a little glimpse into JUST FRIENDS — Em and Cannon act like they don’t even know each other for most of the book. Their possible story might come….later. And yes I’m a tease! Thank you for reading! Amanda’s chapter is next! Then we’ll wrap this story up with Dustin and Olivia’s chapters. And then… JUST FRIENDS will be out! Make sure you vote/comment/share this story with your friends!Thank you for reading, I’ve had way too much fun writing this! xoxo

Chapter 16 - Amanda Use me. Those two words ring in my head over and over again. Use me. Use me. Use me. I shove myself away from Tuttle and leap to my feet, staring at him sprawled across his bed like some sort of dream fantasy come to life. I mean, seriously. He’s so freaking gorgeous with his shirt shoved up under his arms and exposing his ridiculously flat yet rippled abs-I exposed him like that, thank you very much-and his shorts hanging low on his hips. Revealing a tantalizing strip of dark brown hair that leads from his navel and down his lower belly before disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. If I was a bad girl, I would’ve followed that trail with my tongue just to see where it led me. But I’m not a bad girl. Not even close. I don’t use people for my revenge. I’m a nice girl who gets good grades and plays in the band and has the very best friend in the whole world and a terrific boyfriend who-Wait. Scratch that. I have none of that anymore. The tears are streaming down my cheeks before I even really notice them. And when I do notice them, when I notice Tuttle noticing them and the faintly horrified look on his face upon spotting them, then I really break down and fall apart. Whirling away from him, I spot an open door on the opposite side of the room and head toward it, ignoring Tuttle when he calls my name. Luckily enough my instincts are correct and it’s a bathroom. A ridiculously huge bathroom that is downright decadent for a teenage boy to be using by himself but whatever. From what I’ve seen, the Tuttles don’t do anything half assed. I slam and lock the door and then turn on the lights, inhaling sharply when I take in the opulence surrounding me. The countertop is huge, with so much available space I stare at it in awe. There are two sinks and the mirror runs along the entire wall, reaching all the way to the ceiling. There’s a giant walk in shower and a separate whirlpool tub with jets and a massive window that overlooks the backyard… It’s freaking ridiculous. I can’t even believe this is Tuttle’s life. He’s living the dream. Some sort of warped fairytale where he’s the supposed poor little rich boy who’s ignored by his parents and can do whatever the hell he wants. What’s so bad about that? I use the toilet because when a girl has to go, she has to go. I wash my hands and the soap smells so amazing I just want to stand there and sniff my palms for a few seconds, but that’s warped and weird

so I stop myself. There’s a pounding on the door that makes me gasp and I leap away from the counter, staring at the door as if I can see who’s standing on the other side. Not that it takes a genius to know who it is. “Amanda. Open the door.” Tuttle’s dreamy voice is enough to put me into a trance and I literally have to shake my head to shake me out of it. I refuse to let this guy get to me. He just wants me to use him. He wants me to take my revenge out on Thad and Tara’s deceit by screwing around with him instead. Forget that! I won’t sink to their level. “Mandy.” He knocks again, the booming sound making me think he’s pounding on that door with his fist. “Come on. At least answer and let me know you’re all right.” “Go away,” I yell at the door, glaring at it. Wishing he could see just how frustrated I am. This entire night has been ridiculous from the get go. I’m so over it. Over everyone. Especially Tuttle. The door handle rattles. “You’re being ridiculous.” “No, you’re being ridiculous,” I throw back at him like the mature almost adult that I am. He reduces me to stupidity when I’m in his presence and it’s infuriating. He’s quiet for a moment, which I think is dangerous, but I decide to inspect his bathroom a little more closely. I run my fingers across the towels and they don’t disappoint. Plush and thick, I bet they feel like a hug when you wrap them around your damp, naked body. This thought of course, makes me imagine Tuttle’s damp, naked body after he steps out of the shower and what he might look like. My imagination runs away from me completely…meaning bathrooms are a dangerous place. Blowing out a sigh, I push all naked Tuttle thoughts out of my head and rub my hand across my forehead, glancing around. I contemplate making a jump for it out of the bathroom window. But we’re on the second floor and I could seriously hurt myself, so forget that. I’ll just wait out Tuttle. He’ll have to leave sometime and then I can sneak out and make my escape from this God forsaken house once and for all. I wander over to the whirlpool tub and pick up a full bottle of bath salts, open the cap and take a sniff. Everything in this bathroom smells amazing and I can’t help but wonder what all this stuff costs. Way more than my parents could ever spend in a lifetime, I’m sure. And we’re just talking Tuttle’s bathroom. A click sounds in the silence and I turn around to see the door swing open and Tuttle stride inside, coming straight for me. His face is determined, his eyes dark and stormy and I wait in breathless anticipation until he stops just in front of me, so close I could reach out and touch him with ease. But I don’t.

“I said the wrong thing.” I nod once but otherwise don’t reply. How did he get inside? Probably has a key, the tricky bastard. “I didn’t mean to freak you out or upset you.” Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I wait for him to continue. “I just wanted to kiss you.” My skin goes warm at his confession. His gaze is now locked on my lips. “I still want to kiss you,” he tells them. I squirm a little. I still want to kiss him too. Stupid, ridiculously hot boy that he is, it’s like I can’t resist him. “Will you let me?” He finally tears his gaze away from my lips and looks straight at me. “Kiss you?” Without a word I offer up a little nod and he moves in closer, his hands going to my waist and lifting me onto the edge of the counter. The tile is cool under my thighs and I gasp. Gasp again when he pushes my knees open and steps in between them, like he’s the boss of me and has total control of my body. That was kind of hot. He cups my face with his big hands and we gaze at each other for a few seconds. This is going to be one of those dreamy kisses you think only exist in movies-where the boy cradles the girl’s face in his hands before he leans down and presses his mouth to hers. I always silently swooned at those types of kisses. They’re the best. Jordan’s head descends and he’s kissing me. Sweet and tender and soft and wet and hot and oh my god, his tongue curls around mine over and over. Slowly. I reach out and grip the front of his shirt like I’m clinging to him for dear life, which I sort of am. His hands drop from my face and he circles his arms around my waist, holding me close. It’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. Hands down, the most amazing kiss of my whole entire life, not that I’ve been kissed much. But Tuttle’s lips put Thad’s to absolute shame. I have the scariest thought, one that makes me break away from Jordan Tuttle’s delicious lips and blink my eyes open. What if Jordan’s kisses ruin me for anyone else? What if no one ever kisses me like he does? Does this mean I’ll go through the rest of my life comparing other kisses to Tuttle’s? How fair is that? How miserable will my life be as I try to find a man who can top Tuttle’s lips? “Your brain is working overtime,” he murmurs against my neck as he kisses me there. His hot lips make me shiver and when he licks my neck, good lord, I’m a goner. I’m thankful I’m holding onto him or I might’ve fallen to the floor in a boneless heap. “I’m thinking about the way you kiss.”

He chuckles, the sound tickling me and making me squirm. “If you’re thinking while I’m kissing you, then I’m doing it wrong.” No. That’s the problem. He’s doing it right. So, so right. “Stop thinking.” He lifts away from my neck and I gaze up at his handsome face. His jaw is shaded with stubble and his eyes are heavy lidded, giving him this sleepy, sexy look. He’s completely focused on me and nothing else, and I like being his sole focus. I also like how messy his hair is. I like it so much I reach for his hair and run my fingers through it, messing it up even more. His eyes fall closed for a moment and he moans softly. “That feels good.” A heady thrill rushes through me, that I can give him pleasure. That I can make him feel good. “You want me to keep doing it?” “Yeah, if I can keep kissing you.” So we do. We kiss and kiss and kiss. Me sitting on the hard edge of the bathroom counter, my hands buried in his hair, his hands running up and down my back beneath my shirt, fingers tripping over my bra clasp. Our mouths are fused and I wonder how I can even breathe, or how he can breathe. We both rarely come up for air, we’re too consumed with each other and I never, ever want it to stop. “Let’s go back to my bed,” he murmurs long, kiss-filled moments later. He’s caressing my side, his fingers lightly skimming over my skin and I can barely keep my eyes open when I answer him. “Okay.” ***** Oh my gosh, these two! I adore writing Tuttle and Amanda. I love writing this entire story and guess what? We only have TWO CHAPTERS LEFT until ONE NIGHT is finished! cries Thank you all so much for reading and don’t forget to vote/comment/share with your friends. We are getting so close to JUST FRIENDS coming out! I can’t wait!! xoxo Monica

Chapter 17 - Dustin I spotted Em a while ago, flirting with that guy Noah from the basketball team. He’s staring at her boobs and she’s giving him that wicked smile, the one I know for a fact she’s practiced in front of a mirror for years. Looks like all that practice paid off because next thing I know, he’s kissing her and she’s pushing him away with a disgusted look on her face. I’m about to go over there and tell him to lay off when instead she takes his hand as they both rise to their feet and leave the backyard. She doesn’t even notice me as they walk past, and I’m glad. I don’t need her giving me some smug smirk. She’d love to rub it in my face that she’s gonna get Noah off while I’m left sitting here with blue balls. But I’m still hopeful. The night isn’t over yet. Livvy reappears a few minutes later after going inside to the use the bathroom. She smiles at me as she approaches, stopping directly in front of me so she’s all I can see and hear. “We should go, huh?” “You ready?” I tilt my head down to meet her gaze and she smiles up at me. “I need to get up early tomorrow so…yeah.” I drive her back home, and we don’t talk. The music on the radio is the only sound that fills the car but I’m cool with it. What can we talk about anyway? Everything’s already been said. She knows how I feel about her, but it doesn’t matter. Not right now. She doesn’t want us to start something up only for her to leave for the next six weeks. I get her logic but it still bums me out. When I pull my Jeep in front of her house and throw it into park, Livvy turns to smile at me. But I can see the sadness in her eyes and I know this moment isn’t easy for her. “I’ll miss you,” she admits, her voice soft. “I’ll miss you too.” “I don’t want to go.” Her lower lip trembles and she presses them together. “I hate that I have to leave you guys.” “Come here.” I pull her into my arms, but the hug is awkward thanks to the center console. I run my hand over her hair and whisper in her ear, “It’ll go by fast. You’ll be back soon.” “Yeah.” Her voice is muffled against my neck. “Sure.” Slowly she pulls away from me and I kiss her. Nothing too crazy since it doesn’t feel right, to push myself on her when she’s acting so vulnerable. I’m an asshole sometimes, but I will never force myself on a girl. “You gonna be okay?” I ask after she pulls away.

She nods but she won’t really look at me. Instead, she reaches for the door handle and climbs out of the Jeep, shutting the door quietly behind her. I watch her go up the walkway toward her front door and enter the house. And then she’s gone. I drive the few blocks to my house and park my car, but I don’t go inside. Instead, I exit my Jeep and lean against it, watching her house from my driveway since she’s just down the street. I can specifically see her bedroom window, and that the light is still on. So I wait her out by checking my phone, looking at all the photos from the party that are on Snapchat. When I glance up a few minutes later, I notice her light is off. Without thought I jog toward Livvy’s house and into her front yard, rounding the side of the house to where her bedroom window is. I grab a couple pieces of bark from the nearby flowerbed and start throwing it. One after the other, the pieces of bark land against the glass with a slight ding and she finally lifts the blinds, squinting out into the darkness. “What are you doing?” she whispers when she opens the window. Like we haven’t done this before. It’s been a while, but still. “Let me in?” We busted the screen a while ago and it’s gone, much to her mom’s worry. “Someone could sneak into your room!” she’d said after Livvy tore the broken screen off the windowsill. We gave each other smirks and continuous eye rolls, considering the only one sneaking into Livvy’s room was me. “I didn’t want our last night together to end like that,” I tell her. “Like what?” She’s frowning and I shake my head, glancing around impatiently. I don’t have time to explain. “Let me in.” She steps back and I crawl through the window and shut it before I turn toward her. She’s standing in the middle of the room wearing just a tank top and the tiniest shorts I’ve ever seen. She’s all legs and bare skin and no bra beneath that tank and I can see her nipples poking against the thin fabric. My self control shatters in that very instant and I lunge for her, pulling her into my arms and kissing her like my life depends on it. This moment feels so serious, like I’m trying to communicate with Livvy through my actions how much I care about her. I can say it over and over again-though I really don’t because the words never come easy-but showing her is the best way to her heart. It has to be. Within minutes I have her on the bed and I’m stripping her clothes off. The tank is gone. The shorts are around her ankles though she’s still wearing her panties. My hands are everywhere, touching and stroking and making her gasp. I kiss her chest and lick her nipples and she slaps her hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out too loudly, I guess. I don’t know. I’m not really paying attention to her reaction.

I can only focus on her-and my need to get her off. My need to get off rides me hard too and I feel desperate. I’m frantic to touch her one last time before she leaves me. For some weird reason, it feels so…final between us. I don’t get it. But I don’t have time to think it over either. I’m running on pure instinct right now. My fingers are between her legs and she’s spreading her thighs wider, giving me better access. She rears up and tugs my shirt up and over my head, tossing it onto the floor, whimpering when I have to remove my hand from her body to get rid of it. “Don’t stop,” she whispers when I increase the pace of my fingers and I reassure her that I don’t plan on stopping at all by kissing her as I continue to touch her. She reaches for me, her hand delving beneath my shorts, determined fingers grasping onto me. My moans are a little too loud when she starts to stroke and she glares at me, shushing me in a way that almost makes me laugh. Her mom’s room is just down the hall. If she caught us, my ass would be in huge trouble. Her mom likes me, but if she caught me messing around with her baby girl? Forget it. She’d hate me forever. I’m so determined to come, I falter when touching Livvy, too focused on my own pleasure. Her fingers grip me tight and I wish she would put her mouth on me but she won’t. Maybe someday, when she comes back from Oregon and we can talk about actually having a real relationship, we can push it to the next step. I’m freaking desperate to push it to the next step. Her fingers pick up speed and I collapse with my back against the mattress, all plans of touching Livvy falling away as I zero in on the way she feels. She’s holding me tight, moving so fast that I can feel it barreling down. My entire body goes tense and my spine tingles just before I come with a barely restrained groan. She’s gone before the last shudder leaves my body, off to get Kleenex or whatever to clean her hand up. Clean the bed up. She offers me a handful and I take them sheepishly, wiping myself off before I toss them in the trashcan near her bedside table. “Livvy.” She turns to look at me, holding her tank top in front of her chest. Reaching out, I tug on the fabric, trying to get her to drop it but she just holds on tighter. “Come here.” “You should go,” she says, taking a step away from the bed, from me. “It’s really late.” Her words are like a punch to the gut. “You don’t want me to stay?” “It’s not that. I just don’t want my mom to find you in here with me.” She sends me a look. “She will kill us. Kill you.” Sighing, I shake my head and slip under the covers, patting the empty spot on the mattress right next to me. “Come on. Just for a few minutes.” I’m pushing my luck but give me a break. I want to soak her up as much as I can before she leaves tomorrow. Doesn’t she see that? Doesn’t she realize how much I care about her?

Liv pulls the tank top back over her head, offering me a too quick glimpse of her chest. Then she’s climbing into bed with me, pulling the covers over the both of us, her head nestled against my chest. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her in closer, throwing a leg over hers to keep her in place. It feels so good, lying in bed with her like this. I never want to move. **** What did you think? Got a little heated and sexy around here but hey, Dustin is just trying to show Livvy how much he cares about her. Guess what? There is only ONE MORE CHAPTER and then ONE NIGHT is over! cries I’m a little sad but this just means you’re that much closer to the release of JUST FRIENDS! It’s here in a matter of days! Are you excited? I’m so freaking excited. Thank you for reading and please don’t forget to vote/comment/share the story with your friends!!! Thank you!! xoxo

Chapter 18 - Olivia Dustin should go. I know I’m being a total bitch but oh my God, we were so loud just then. Well, me not so much, but he couldn’t seem to control himself. I can’t believe Mom didn’t burst into my room and discover us doing what we were doing. She would’ve died. I would’ve too. That is the very last thing I want to happen. But then he crawled into my bed and gave me those puppy dog eyes and I couldn’t resist him. How can I kick him out? Besides, he’s right. We need just a few more minutes of cuddling like this and then he has to go home. It’s late, past midnight and I’m exhausted. Well. My body is buzzing and I’m still throbbing between my legs but yeah. I’m tired. “What do you do up there anyway?” When I say nothing, he continues. “Up in Oregon. At your dad’s house.” “Oh. It’s so boring there. My stepmom wants to hang out, take me shopping while trying to bond with me and somehow, I don’t know, become my best friend or whatever. When I first get there I’m usually okay with it, but I cut her off fast.” Christine tries so hard, but Mom hates her, which means I have to hate her. I My half brother and sister make me crazy. They’re little and complete pests and they just want to go through my stuff. “You can text me whenever you want, you know.” He says this conversationally, but I wonder if he wants more. I told him not to push. I said I didn’t want to pursue anything serious considering I’m leaving tomorrow, and I’ll be gone for six long weeks. But sometimes it’s like he doesn’t even listen to me. “I’ll text you like I usually do.” I keep my voice even, trying not to get distracted by the hypnotic way

his fingers skim over my stomach, back and forth, moving lower each time. “Yeah, which isn’t much at all,” he reminds me as he rolls over on his side so he’s facing me. His hand is still on my stomach, his other arm curled around my shoulders and I am completely surrounded by him. “Please don’t start a fight with me,” I tell him wearily, lifting my gaze to his. “It’s late. I should probably go to sleep.” “I’m not trying to start a fight.” His fingers slip beneath my panties and the knowing smile that curls his lips is irresistible. “I am trying to start something else though.” I part my lips, ready to offer up a weak protest but then he kisses me and strokes me at the same exact time. I was already halfway to my breaking point before he got caught up in his own deal earlier and I’m immediately primed and ready to go. Now it’s my turn, and while I halfheartedly tell myself I really shouldn’t do this, I’m excited that he’s touching me again. And this time he’s touching me in my bed, his fingers working their magic, his mouth on my neck, the both of us breathing heavily and grasping helplessly at each other. I fall apart fast. So quick, I gasp in surprise when the sensation washes over me. So quick, I’m almost disappointed I didn’t have enough time to really savor it. * Dustin kisses me just before he’s about to leave and then he’s gone, slipping out through the window and stealing across my lawn like some thief in the black of night. I watch him go, can actually see him run across his front yard and sneak back into his house just by walking through the front door. His parents don’t seem to care what time he gets home. He doesn’t have a strict curfew like I do. I swear it’s because he’s a boy and I’m a girl.

So unfair. But whatever. I’m about to close the window and shut the blinds when I see a familiar figure walking down the sidewalk, headed in the opposite direction of Dustin’s house. I peek my head out through the window and squint into the darkness, whispering a sharp, “Em!” to hopefully get her attention. She stops in her tracks and turns to look at me, then starts to approach my house. As she draws closer, I notice smudges of mascara beneath her bloodshot eyes and she looks tired. Worn out. “Hey,” she says when she stops directly in front of my window. “What are you doing?” “I could ask you the same thing.” I pause for a moment. “We didn’t get to hang out much at Tuttle’s party.” Em shrugs, looking away from me. “Didn’t have much time I guess.” “But it’s my last night before I leave,” I remind her. She returns her gaze to mine. “I’ll miss you.” Will she really? I’m not sure. “I’ll miss you too.” “Sorry we didn’t get to spend time together. But I knew you had Dustin, so you didn’t need me around.” Ugh. I hate when she says that sort of thing. “I wanted you around, Em. There’s a big difference.” “We’ll hang out more when you come back home,” she offers.

“Promise?” “Yeah.” Em nods, nibbling on her thumbnail. “I promise.” “Why are you out so late?” “Was with a guy.” She shrugs again, still nibbling on her nail. “Noah. He just graduated.” “You mean Noah from the basketball team?” She nods. “That’s the one.” “Why were you with him?” I’m surprised. He doesn’t seem her type. Not that I really know her type anymore. “Why not? He’s funny. We drank, we hung out, we messed around, I sucked his dick, and now I’m headed home.” I start to giggle. I can’t help it, considering what she just said. “You so didn’t suck his dick.” “I so did.” “How was it?” “Better than kissing him.”

Now we’re both laughing. No way can Em be serious. She’s so full of crap. “Why didn’t you have him drop you off at your house?” The laughter dies. “I didn’t want him to know where I live.” My mouth drops open. “Are you for real? What, is he some sort of stalker?” “I’m not sure. And I didn’t want to take the risk.” Huh, isn’t that funny. I’m starting to think my best friend is continuously engaging in risky behavior. How many times have we received that lecture at school throughout the years, starting in middle school? Risky behavior is the term they use for everything-drugs, drinking, sex, cheating in school, flirting with teachers, careless online behavior. The list goes on and on. “Be careful this summer, okay Em?” I study her, hoping she hears the sincerity in my voice. I do want her to be careful. There are too many crazies out there and she’s being so careless. “Don’t get too out of control without me around to watch over you.” She smiles and steps up to the window, reaching out for me. We embrace, our arms slung around each other ’s necks, her face buried against my shoulder. I worry for a moment she might smell Dustin on me, considering Dustin was just literally all over me, but she says nothing. Just gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek before she pulls away and starts walking backwards. “I’ll miss you,” she tells me. “Don’t know how I’m going to survive this summer without my best friend.” “You’ll be fine,” I reassure. “You’ve done it before. What’s six weeks, right?” Em laughs. “Well, for you it’ll be torture, since we’ll all be here and you’re stuck with your dad.”

Ugh. Thanks Em for the reminder. We say our goodbyes and I watch her go, finally closing the window when I can’t see her any longer. My gaze snags on my packed suitcase sitting by the bedroom door and I frown as I crawl into bed, yanking the covers up to my neck. I tell myself that my time in Oregon won’t be so bad. That I have to go since it’s the last summer I’ll spend with my dad before college. My leaving is the right thing to do. Besides, no matter what happens, I know I can count on my friends. **** And….that’s a wrap! ONE NIGHT is over! I hope you enjoyed this prequel to JUST FRIENDS, and if you did, I would love it if you shared/commented/voted on this story. Thank you all so so much for reading it. And don’t forget that JUST FRIENDS is out this Tuesday (9/13) at all retailers! More info here: http://monicamurphyauthor.com/books/justfriends/ Thanks everyone for reading! xoxo Monica â​¤ď¸​