Page 45 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
Do I want to be friends with Jordan Torres? Of course. I’m starting to wonder if I might want to be more than that, but a friendship is far less risky. “What if I do?”
“Then I’d have to wonder if you really mean it. We tried that once.”
“We’ve never been friends before.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Speak for yourself. I considered you a great friend back in the day.”
“Houstonwas your friend.”
“A guy can have more than one friend, you know.”
That’s true, but that doesn’t change what things were like back then. Unless he really thought I was his friend? It would explain why he never left me alone, but it would also make me feel like a terrible person for trying to drive him away. “We drove each other crazy, Jordan.”
“The mark of a true friendship.” He folds his arms, giving me the kind of pinched smile that always makes me a little nervous because it looks like he’s planning something. “You really want to be friends?”
I do my best to look unconcerned. “We can be adults about this.”
“I know I can. I’m not so sure about you when you’re over there taking stalker pictures of your landscaper.”
Heat blossoms in my cheeks, but I ignore it. He’s trying to goad me into reacting, and it’s working, but I can’t let him know that. He’s always been like this, picking up on tiny little responses and poking where he knows I’ll feel it the most. I need to poke back before he realizes he’s hit a nerve.
“I did not takestalkerpictures. I only took one. And I was thinking of setting you up with my coworker and wanted her to see what she would be getting into.”
His whole expression drops in a way I’ve never seen before, like he forgot that he’s supposed to always look a little mischievous. “You were?”
No, I wasn’t, and already I’m feeling jealous of Jaydin even though I hadn’t even considered setting her up with Jordan until the lie slipped off my tongue. Still, I have to stand my ground so he doesn’t call my bluff. “Yeah. I think you’d be great together.”
I didn’t know it was possible, but I’ve rendered him speechless. He stands there with his mouth slightly open and seems to be digging into my soul with his eyes on me. But the moment passes quickly, and he’s back to smiling. “I’m flattered, Queens, but I’m not looking to date right now.”
“Oh.” Why am I so disappointed by that? It’s not like I was actually considering dating my brother’s best friend. “Okay. I guess I’ll leave you to finish up the yard?”
He tilts his head. “Was that a question?”
“No.” It was, but he doesn’t seem to like it. “I’ll leave you to the yard.”
“Better. And after, do you want me to make you French toast?”
I absolutely want that. “Only if you want—”
“I’m askingyou, Queens. Do you want French toast?”
“I’m good with whatever.”
Folding his arms yet again, he moves in closer until he’s almost nose to nose with me. I’m frozen to the spot, barely breathing. “You’re not,” he says. “What if I change my mind and decide to make salmon omelets? You’d be good with that?”
This feels like a test, but one I don’t have the answers to. What does he want me to say? “If that’s what you want to make, I would be fine with—”
“Brooklyn.”
I swallow, a shiver running through me from the way he said my name. “What?”
He puts his hands on my shoulders, which basically makes him impossible to ignore. Not that I was trying. “You need to stop being a sheep and act like the lion you are. Starting now.”
What is that supposed to mean?
“You’re in charge for the rest of the day. I won’t do anything unless you tell me to, and if I get the sense that you’re just trying to do what you think I want you to do, I’ll ignore you.”
“This doesn’t sound like a good way to spend a Sunday,” I mumble. It sounds like a nightmare, and I know I’m going to annoy him or make him think I have no idea how to be an adult.
