Definitely, Maybe, Sometimes. | ✔️ COMPLETED

Chapter Nine

The next morning, I wake to a rasping on my door. A bit delirious from having stayed up until the early hours of the morning, crying - I wrap my duvet around me and stomp towards it.

"What?" I snap, swinging the door open. Then I completely freeze. It's Jordan. Two cups of coffee in his hand. His hair looks unkempt, but his clothes are hugging him tightly. A silver necklace hanging around his neck, a ring on his pinky finger. He's just so swoon-worthy. "Jordan?"

"So," He says, handing me a coffee and pushing past me. I get a whiff of him, clean laundry and a bit of aftershave. Undeniably Jordan in a way I can't begin to understand. He's all I can think of. And all I can smell. He takes a seat on my bed. My mind and heart are racing. "Whilst you've slept a whole day has happened."

I slowly turn, letting my door close behind me. I'm struggling to catch up. "Sorry?"

"It's four in the afternoon. You missed the first day of Uni."

"I what?" I rush for my phone. Copious apology texts from Reign and Kerry, which have turned into worried texts as the day went on. A few from Jordan, and one from my mother. The clock reads 16:45. I sink down into my desk chair. "How?"

Jordan's eyes are on me. "Late night?"

"Yes." I say, "I lost all of you, was left completely alone in the club, and thoroughly upset. I came back and cried."

He looks alert, worried. "You cried?"

I nod, feeling oddly emotional again. Now is my chance to set the record straight. "Jordan, I-"

He waves a hand, "Forget it."

"No!" I spit. "Seriously! Will you-"

"Autumn," He says sternly. "It's forgotten about, okay? Let it go. Besides, I've got something to show you."

What am I to do with that? Force the conversation? I choose to say nothing. I will set the record straight, just maybe when it's not so raw. 

Jordan is scrolling through his phone, his hazel eyes shining in the light. He's hunched over, his muscles are taught. I'd love to run a hand along his arms. If only I could touch him.

I suddenly have the urge to move. So I stand. As I do, my duvet falls from around me. The abrupt movement causes Jordan to look up from his phone. 

First, he looks at my face, his mouth slack with words he's forgotten to say. His eyes make their way down my body as if he can't control himself. I glance down, I'm in a tiny pair of shorts and cropped tee. My hair is piled into a bun, my face makeup free.

His eyes meet mine again, and in a husky voice that makes the hairs on my arms stick up, he says, "I wanted to show you this."

He holds his phone up to me and I squint at the picture. "It's a film poster?"

"Yeah." He says. "I got my first assignment for the newspaper."

"Oh, that's great." I say. I feel like I'm getting whiplash from the sudden changes. "What's the assignment got to do with Kate Hudson?"

"They want me to do a culture piece. A 'How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days' type thing. Except, like, 'How to Keep A Girl in Twenty Dates'." A pause. He lowers his phone back to his lap. "What do you think?"

I blink at him, "Of you? Dating? Girls? For a journalism piece?"

He laughs. "Fuck no. You're my closest girl mate, I want you to run through a bunch of dates with me and pick the best twenty. My deadline is in a month."

I'm dead. I died last night. There is no other explanation. "Are you asking me to date you?"

"As friends."

"As friends?"

"Yes."

"You and I will date?"

He nods. "Yes."

"As friends?"

"Yes."

I blink. "No."

He looks stunned. "What?"

"I can't date you."

"But it's as friends?"

I press my palms to my eyes. I'm hallucinating. I hit my head and I've fallen into an alternate reality. Then I set my hands down and look at the beautiful boy in front of me, sinking back into my desk chair. "There's no such thing as dating friends!"

He puts a hand on my knee, as if trying to calm me. "It makes sense."

I stare at his hand for a second, before looking back to him. "Does it?" Because honestly, I'm struggling to hear him over the thrumming in my head. He'll date me? As friends? How does that even work?

"Look," He shuffles closer to me. "I like you. As a friend. I don't want to date anyone in real life terms, but I like spending time with you. I'll plan them all - you just have to show up and tell me what ones are your faves."

I shake my head, "This is insane." But truthfully, it's kind of perfect. It's a chance to date him without the pressure of actually dating him. Without the fear of losing him. Because it's only as friends.

"It isn't." He insists, he leans forward. I catch that scent of him, his eyes sear into mine. "Look, I don't want to have to pretend I'm interested in girls I'm not interested in just to write about it later. I don't want to spend time with people I don't know when I'd rather be with you. If you say yes, you'll be helping me massively. Not only will we get to spend time together, I get to write the best article Oxford has ever seen. You could help me cement my whole career."

I feel dazed and confused and... a little bit excited?

Then he adds, "I promise I won't fall in love with you or something weird like that."

It's like he's punched me. I don't move, don't blink, I sit there and breathe. It's not fair for me to feel so heartbroken over his promise. We are friends. He's asking me for help as a friend, to help with his future. What kind of person would I be if I said no to that?

At the very best we'll be closer for it. At the worst I'll fall more in love with him (not that I am in love with him, but just like the general kind of love I have for him) and then we will never have to speak again.

That's it, right?

"Fine," I tell him. "I'll help you."

He grins at me and everything seems to speed up and slow down at the same time. "Okay but, they have to feel like real dates. I want the connection, the deep secrets that no one else knows. The hand holding and flower bringing-"

"You're going to bring me flowers?"

"No," he mocks offence. "You're going to bring me flowers."

"Okay." I nod. "I can do that."

His eyes light up. "Secret handshake on it?"

"We have a secret handshake?"

"We do now. How else would anyone know that you're the most important person to me?"

The. Most. Important. Person. To. Him.

I am in deep, deep, deep, hot water and I'm not sure I care, not when Jordan is looking at me like I've made his whole year.