In His Kiss - Ava Alise Page 0,1
it into his mouth.
“This job is yours. Professor Satchi loves you. He’d be lucky to have you as his assistant.” His eyes go soft around the edges before he smiles.
We linger there for a bit, and a warmth fills his gaze that causes my heart to swell. The longer he stares at me the more intensely the butterflies begin to flop around in my stomach. This is stupid and it’s only getting worse. I started recognizing my feelings for him back when we were still in high school. At first I wrote off my jealousy toward his girlfriends as me just feeling territorial over my best friend. It wasn’t until senior prom, when he showed up at my door dressed to the nines and whisked Felica Santeria away in a stretch limo that I realized what was really happening. They had been dating for a few months, so I’d seen them together many times, but there was just something about that night. That was four years ago.
I haven’t said anything because, well, I really don’t think he feels the same way. He treats me like one of the guys, but it’s a friendship I truly cherish, and I think I’d prefer not embarrassing myself by putting that at risk. Having him in this way is better than not at all. I've spent the last four years trying to turn these feeling off. Telling myself that it will never work. We are too ingrained in each other's lives. Our fathers are best friends, our friendship is closer than most siblings. There's a comfort there that I wouldn't trade for anything. Just like today. We have always been there for each other no matter what life threw at us or how pissed we might get. Our friendship has been indestructible. I can't—no, I won't—ruin it. No matter how desperately I crave more of him.
“Seriously, it’s going to go great, stop worrying,” I add, attempting to lighten up the moment.
Everything about his posture is relaxed—well, you’d think that if you didn’t know Jordan. He’s sitting with his elbow on the table, picking at a pastry that he normally would have decimated seconds after he got it. Plus, he keeps tapping his fingers on the table. He only fidgets when he’s nervous.
“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Xia.”
We go back to quietly sipping our coffee as I look over a small group of people entering the cafe. A young woman carrying a baby comes in first, followed by a man pushing an empty stroller. The barista greets them cheerfully as she makes googly eyes at the infant. The door hangs open, as if someone was holding it for them, and just as I'm about to look away the man who walks in next catches my eye. It's my father.
Immediately, I smile, and I’m about to jump from my seat and run over to hug my dad when the door closes behind him and I stop. I remember our last conversation. We were at dinner and my mother was annoyed to find out about Dad’s sudden work trip after she had spent the month planning a getaway for the three of us. It was a beach trip for the week after this semester ends. My father is the head of the science department at Chrome Hills University, where Jordan and I go to school. With eyes downcast, he apologized to us over his plate of spaghetti, pushing it around with his fork as he insisted there was nothing he could do to get out of the conference.
“I thought he was still in Tulsa,” I mutter, calculating how long it’s been since he left Friday night.
“What?” Jordan asks. I didn’t even realize I’d said it out loud.
He looks toward the door, raising his eyebrows when he spots my dad. Our booth is tucked away in the corner of the room so it isn’t as easy for my father to see us as it is for us to see him.
“Right. Maybe his thing was cancelled?”
“Maybe, but why would he come all the way out here? It’s a pretty big detour between the airport and home”
“True.”
“Well, I’m going to go over to say hi, then forbid him from moving in on our new secret spot,” I say with a chuckle as I slide toward Jordan, who has to stand to let me out of the booth.
“Okay.” He laughs. “I’ll go with you,”
I reach for my phone, only to spot it wedged between the seat and the wall and have to