If We Were a Movie Page 11

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Jordan, not a good idea,” I muttered with a shake of my head.

  Jordan ignored me. “ Well, I’m not going to pin him down and hold him while drunken girls fondle him and kiss him,” she said. “I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.”

  I knew I was in trouble when Sophie’s eyes snapped wide. “Excuse me?”

  “It was all part of some save-Runt-from-his-girlfriend campaign his brothers have got going on,” Jordan continued mercilessly. “When we went to get his computer last night, Chris and Tyler had a bunch of girls waiting for him. Of course, Nate turned down all their offers to help him cheat on you, so his brothers pinned him down and held him while some chick had fun with him.”

  I buried my face in my hand and let out a defeated sigh. “Seriously, not helping,” I grumbled.

  Jordan’s voice stayed light and cheery. “Don’t worry; he didn’t kiss her back, even though she was freaking gorgeous and barely dressed. Your man was a completely faithful gentleman. I was impressed.”

  “Somebody kissed you?” she screeched.

  I pulled my face back out of my hand and met Sophie’s murderous gaze. “Calm down. It was nothing. They were just being idiots.”

  “Nothing?”

  “They were pretty drunk,” Jordan added, as if that should let them off the hook.

  “They’re always drunk!” Sophie snapped. Arms still folded tightly, she sat up stick straight and narrowed her eyes at me. “Has this kind of thing been going on all semester?”

  “Uh…” For a moment, I felt a bit like a deer in headlights. There was a lot my brothers did that I never told Sophie about. I didn’t feel like I was lying to her by keeping it from her, because I never did anything wrong. It seemed more to me like I was saving her from being hurt and keeping the peace between her and my brothers. But right now, maybe it was better to tell her the truth.

  Before I could make any kind of decision, Sophie read into my hesitation for what it was. “Unbelievable,” she hissed. “I am seriously going to kill them. Why can’t they just leave you alone!”

  “They will, if I stay here,” I said. “They don’t even know where this place is.”

  Sophie pulled her shoulders back and glared furiously at me. After a long moment, her gaze slid to Jordan and Colin. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Fine. But just temporarily, okay?” She glanced at me again with a dangerous look that dared me to disagree with her. “Stay here until we can find something else that works.”

  I choked on a spoonful of ice cream. I didn’t like the sound of that. “Until we find something else?”

  Sophie rolled her eyes at the question. “If we’re going to get a place next year together anyway, we may as well just do it a little sooner.”

  “If we’re what? Soph, we didn’t decide anything yet.”

  “Yes, we did. Last night we—”

  “I said I’d think about it. I said we could discuss it. I didn’t agree to—”

  “What’s your problem, Nate? You’re begging to move in with a woman you met five seconds ago, but you don’t want to live with me?”

  “Give me a break, Sophie. I’m talking about sharing space with her, not playing house together. You know it’s completely different.”

  Sophie’s scowl fell into a frown. Hurt flashed in her eyes. “So you don’t want to move in together? You don’t want to live with me?”

  I ran my hands through my hair, trying not to yank fistfuls of it out. How in the world had the conversation turned to this? I felt completely steamrolled. “I don’t know, okay? I need time to think about it. It’s such a huge commitment, and we’ve got so much going on right now with school and stuff.”

  “Fine.” She shot to her feet and stomped to the door.

  I scrambled after her and caught her as she was yanking on her jacket. “Sophie,” I whispered, pulling her to me. She fought me, but it was a mild effort, and when I wrapped my arms around her she relaxed and looked up at me, waiting to hear what I had to say. “We don’t have to grow up overnight just because we’re in college now. I just need some time, okay?”

  All the blood drained from her face. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “No. Of course not.” I brushed her hair back as she took a breath. “I didn’t mean time apart. I meant I need time to transition. I need to figure out this being-an-adult stuff slowly. I want to focus on school and my music right now. I want to get a little breathing room from my brothers and be on my own, for once. I want to enjoy my college experience, not miss it because I’m too worried about being a grownup.”

  She didn’t say anything, but she relaxed a little and some of the hurt left her eyes. I brushed her cheek with my thumb, then lifted her mouth to mine and gave her a soft kiss. “We have our whole lives ahead of us. We don’t need to rush ourselves.”

  She pouted for a moment before she gave me a weak nod. “Okay.”

  “Do you really not want me to take the apartment?”

  Conflict swarmed her eyes as she glanced back toward Jordan and Colin, who were immersed in their own conversation over ice cream. By all appearances they were tactfully trying to give Sophie and me our privacy, but I had my suspicions that they were still secretly paying very close attention.

  “Say the word, and I’ll stay with my brothers,” I said, knowing that was the last thing Sophie wanted.

  She sighed. “No. Keep the apartment.” Her gaze found its way back to me, and in a rare moment of humility, she said, “I do trust you; I’m just jealous of her.”

  I grinned and gave her another soft kiss. “You have nothing to be jealous of.”

  She rested her head on my shoulder. “I know. I’ll try not to be.”

  “If it will help, stay with me tonight.”

  She slipped her arms around my waist and let out a quiet moan into the crook of my neck. “Tempting. But I’ve still got a ton of homework and a very early class in the morning.”

  As much as I was looking forward to a night alone with my girlfriend, I didn’t try to argue. That was Sophie—responsible to a fault. “This weekend, then.”

  She pressed her lips to my neck. “It’s a deal.”

  With one last kiss, she waved good-bye to Jordan and Colin, and left. I leaned against the door after it was shut, closing my eyes and taking a moment to breathe. Clapping and cheers interrupted the silence. Laughing, I opened my eyes to a standing ovation, courtesy of my new roommate and her fake boyfriend. “That was smooth, roomie,” Jordan said.

  “Mm,” Colin agreed. “I think I’m going to have to call you my little vanilla smoothie from now on.”

  I laughed again, and then raised a brow at Colin. “Boyfriend?”

  Colin flashed me an evil grin. “Sophie looked like she needed a little persuasion.”

  “And it was such a wonderful performance,” Jordan said proudly.

  “All except the part where you swooned over Channing Tatum,” I said as I returned to the table and started clearing dishes.

  Jordan laughed, but Colin gave me a serious look. “Hey, there are plenty of straight men who drool over Magic Mike.”

  “No, there aren’t,” Jordan and I simultaneously deadpanned. We looked at each other and burst into laughter. I’m not sure what was funnier—our identical reactions, or the pout Colin gave us for ganging up on him.

  We cleared the dishes, and after rinsing them I started to stack them in the dishwasher. “Leave it. We can do those later,” Jordan said. “Let’s go get your stuff before it gets dark.” She grabbed Colin’s arm and dragged him to the door. “Come on, boyfriend. You can help.”

  “What a slave driver,” Colin complained. “Were you this controlling before we got together?”

  “Were you this whiny?” she shot back.

  “Yes. And as much as I’d love to be your muscle, I can’t. I’ve got a date.”

  Jordan gasped in mock outrage. “You have a date with another woman?”

  “Nope.
A very sexy older man, actually.”

  Jordan sighed. “You know, Colin, I’m really sorry, but I just don’t think this thing between us is going to work out.”

  Colin winced. “Me, either. But can we keep pretending so I can come over whenever I want? I’ve got plans to seduce your lovely new roommate.”

  “He’s not gay, Colin. I hate to tell you this, but you can’t trick someone into changing their sexual preference.”

  “That’s what you think, honey. You just watch me.”

  I smiled as they headed out the door arm in arm, still verbally sparring. The last twenty-four hours had been the biggest roller coaster, and now that the ride was over, I felt windswept and amazed and more than ready to get in line for the next one.

  After dropping Colin off on the main floor of her building, Jordan grinned at me and hit the button in the elevator marked P2. “This is the reason I moved into this building. It’s one of the few in this area with a parking garage. We’ll see if my car even remembers how to start. This is my third year in New York, and I can count on my fingers the number of times I’ve actually used the car since I moved here. I think I average maybe twice a year.”

  “So why bring it to school? It must be expensive to have your own parking spot.”

  “My father insisted.”

  The doors slid open into a dimly lit garage that looked just like any other parking garage I’d ever been in, except for the quality of cars parked in it. Nearly ever car in the garage was a luxury vehicle. When Jordan walked us over to a shiny red sports car, I wondered if maybe the price of a parking spot didn’t matter. Just when I was about to ask if she was messing with me, the lights flashed as she unlocked it and disengaged the alarm. “This is seriously yours?” I asked, staring at the car.

  She grinned. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

  My mouth fell agape when she slid her hand over the top of the car and then opened the driver’s side door. “If you have a ton of stuff, we’re going to have to make more than one trip. This baby is definitely form over function. Though, she runs like a dream, too.”

  I couldn’t get my feet to move. Form over function? That was an understatement. “Jordan, this is a Ferrari.”

  “And I’m a girl. You are an extremely observant individual, you know that?” She winked. “This is an F12berlinetta, to be exact. It’s an amazing machine. Come on. Get in.”

  Shaking myself from my shock, I climbed into the most expensive car I’d ever seen. I sank into the seat as if it were made for me, and groaned. “I’m already ruined for all other cars for the rest of my life.”

  Jordan responded by grinning and revving the engine. “Get ready for the smoothest ride you’ll ever take.”

  I laughed as she backed out of her space. “It’s five blocks.” Still, I was excited to travel those five blocks.

  “But a smooth five blocks. Besides, we’ll have to drive around in circles for like half an hour before we find a parking spot that works.”

  She had a point, and I had nothing else to do this evening, so I settled back in my seat and decided to enjoy the trip. “So you drive a Ferrari.”

  “Yup.” Jordan nodded, keeping her eyes on the road as she pulled out of the garage into the heavy New York traffic. “But only like twice a year,” she reminded me.

  I shook my head, still trying to wrap my head around this insane development. When Jordan didn’t elaborate any further, I said, “Are you really going to make me ask?”

  She groaned, but I knew the topic was safe, because she flashed me a quick smile. “Okay, okay, fine. You caught me. I’m a trust fund baby. The car was a graduation present from my mom.”

  “Seriously?”

  She sighed. “That’s what happens when you have billionaire parents going through a nasty divorce. Dad lets you take your soccer team on the company jet to Brazil for the World Cup, and Mom—unwilling to be shown up by her cheating louse of a husband—retaliates by taking you to every car dealership in Beverly Hills and telling you to pick whatever you want. The divorce was brutal, and I hated being stuck in the middle—they were constantly trying to use me against each other—but I can’t deny it had its perks. Dad won, though, when he bought me the apartment.”

  I blinked at her a few times. “You own that apartment?”

  She shrugged and then laid on her horn and yelled something at the car in front of her that the driver was probably glad he hadn’t heard. “Dad was totally cheating on my mom, so she really stuck it to him in the divorce. He couldn’t stand that he was losing, so when I got accepted to NYU, he brought me here and took me condo shopping. He paid cash for the place and put it in my name alone because the divorce wasn’t final yet, so that was like 2.6 million dollars less that my mom could take from him. She was pissed. And since she was the one who’d given me the car, he insisted on finding a place with a parking garage and buying a parking spot.”

  It took me a full thirty seconds to form any kind of words. “Forget Step Up. I feel like I’m Little Orphan Annie and I’ve just moved in with Daddy Warbucks.”

  Jordan burst into laughter. “Ha! I’ve corrupted you already! See? Movie references. You just can’t help it.”

  She was right. I’d been doing it all day, and I had a feeling it was going to be a new habit. I started to deny it, just for argument’s sake, when I remembered something. “Wait. You said you work in the café, right?”

  “Yeah. Colin begged me to come work with him when I started looking for a job my first summer here.”

  “And you hold a part-time minimum wage job because…?”

  Jordan grinned. “For the free coffee and homemade ice cream, of course.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  “It’s a long story,” she said as she turned the corner in front of my old dorm. “Keep your eyes peeled for a good spot. So, the job. Basically, I used to be a spoiled, clueless, pampered princess—exactly what you’d expect from an heiress. I switched from my fancy private school to a public school my senior year to get back at my ex-ex boyfriend with this big soccer scandal thing. It opened my eyes to the real world. I guess I work now because I like feeling normal. I want to be down-to-earth and responsible and all that.”

  “Wow.” It took me long enough to figure out how to reply, that Jordan got self-conscious and started chewing on her bottom lip as she watched the traffic in front of her. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m just not sure what to do first: compliment you on your admirable maturity, make you tell me about the great senior year soccer scandal, ask you why I’m paying rent if you own the apartment—not that I’m complaining—or ask you what an ex-ex boyfriend is.”

  The brightness came back to Jordan’s eyes, and she laughed. “Thank you. The maturity thing was hard earned and is only there about half the time. It would take a novel to explain the great soccer scandal, so we’ll save that for another day. The rent was my father’s suggestion so that I can avoid getting latched onto by freeloaders who only hang out with me because I have money, and ex-ex would be the ex before my ex.”

  She shook her head and sighed. “I actually have a whole string of exes. But The Ex and The Ex-Ex are the only main ones. The Ex-Ex was John Prince. He was my high school boyfriend. We were together for almost two years. What a waste. He was so stuck-up and arrogant. Such a snob. He was the school’s star soccer player, so he thought everyone should, like, bow down to him, you know? Not a nice guy.

  “The second guy, The Ex, Greg, was different. He’s this liberal, go green, do-gooder, artistic type from SoHo. He seemed real and down-to-earth, so I thought he’d be different than John. Except he wasn’t. He was an even bigger douche. I was with him for eight months, and he was sleeping with my roommate for six of them. Six!” She shook her head in disgust. “I should have seen it, because he was doing exactly what my dad did to my mom. Looking back, all the signs were there, but I thought I was in love.”

  I was worried she’d get upset again talking about her ex like she had the first time we met, but she se
ttled for a bitter laugh and just started venting like crazy about the guy. It was as if once she opened the subject, all of her anger came spewing out at an unstoppable pace. It was a complete train wreck. But she obviously needed it, so I sat there and listened while she drove around the block telling me just about every detail of her relationship with Greg. Once I even saw an open parking space, but I couldn’t bring myself to point it out.

  Eventually, though, she realized what she was doing and got really embarrassed. It was cute. She was in the middle of some story about the time he accidentally stood her up on her birthday because he forgot they had plans. Apparently he did that kind of thing a lot. The guy was a real scumbag, and I don’t understand how she ever ended up with him in the first place. But anyway, he forgot her birthday and left her sitting at some restaurant all by herself. As she was telling me the story, she stopped mid sentence. “So after waiting for like an hour, I went home and—oh my gosh, I’m doing it again.”

  “Doing what?” I asked, startled by the abrupt change in subject.

  Completely dejected, she slumped her shoulders and stared up at the stoplight in front of us. “I’m being Andie.”

  She obviously felt terrible about something—I could see the frustration in her eyes—but I was lost. “Who’s Andie?”

  “Kate Hudson. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.”

  I’d seen the movie, not one of my favorites, but I didn’t connect the dots until she spelled it out for me. “I made Greg watch that movie with me, and he said I was just like her. He memorized the list and would spout off day three or day seven every time I did something annoying.”

  What a creep. I wanted to ask her why girls always want to be with jerks, but I didn’t think that would have gone over very well at the moment, so instead all I said was, “That’s horrible.”

  She sighed. “It’s true.”

  “It’s not true.” I hated that she could think so little of herself, but this guy Greg had really done a number on her.

  She gave me a distressed look and frowned. “Day one: Give him a detailed rundown of all your previous relationships.” She rattled it off in a way that suggested she did that often. “I’m even going in order.”