December
Me: I miss u
Her: I miss u 2
Me: Any chance we can change that by meeting up? I’ll bring my dick…
Her: LMAO isn’t that sort of a given? U 2 are a package deal
Me: Package is the right word. A really big package 😉
Okay, so I’m laying it on pretty thick, but damn, I miss this girl. I haven’t seen her in a week, which is about, oh, seven days too long. Since our double date last month, we’ve tried to see each other at least two or three times a week. With our hectic schedules, it’s a miracle we’ve managed to find the time, so it was bound to happen that our schedules would catch up to us.
These past two weeks, we’ve both been busy with school. I’ve had some brutal practices and games, and then Thanksgiving rolled around and I’d already committed to spending the holiday with Hollis and his family. I was tempted to bail and see Sabrina instead, but she was working and admitted she’d rather I didn’t hang around at the strip club while she waited tables. Apparently Boots & Chutes is Bummer Central during holidays.
I’m dying to see her, so when I read her next message, I do a mental fist pump.
Her: If u don’t mind the drive, come to Boston 2nite? Working on my Con Law paper, but I can take a bunch of breaks if u wanna keep me company.
I don’t even hesitate.
Me: On my way.
I already showered and changed in anticipation of possibly seeing her tonight. I hurry downstairs, hoping to slip out of the house unnoticed.
“Tuck, get in here! We need a grown-up’s opinion.” Damn. So close.
I follow Garrett’s voice to the living room, where I find him and Hannah on the armchair. She’s in his lap, he’s got his arms around her, and they look so happy and at ease that I feel a pang of envy. They’re not alone, though. Logan, Fitzy and Logan’s friend Morris are on the couch, video game controllers in their hands. The first-person shooting game they’re playing is paused on the flat screen.
“What’s up?” I try to hide my impatience. “I’m on my way out.”
From the couch, Logan arches a brow. “You’ve been on your way out a lot lately.”
I shrug. “Places to go, people to see.”
“Are you ever going to tell us her name?” Hannah asks in a cheerful voice.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply innocently.
Garrett waves a hand. “I don’t care about Tuck’s mystery girl right now.
I need someone to back me up—pronto.” I grin. “Back you up on what?” “Dean and Allie.”
Ah. I was wondering when we’d be having this powwow. We all came back from our various Thanksgiving trips to discover that Dean and Allie are officially a couple.
I wasn’t surprised to hear it, because I already suspected they’d hooked up, but I am a bit stunned that they’re actually going out. Dean hasn’t had a girlfriend since I’ve known him.
“Apparently I’m the only one who thinks this is the worst fucking idea since horses,” Garrett says irritably.
“Horses?” Logan and Fitzy echo in unison.
“Like, horses in general?” Morris asks in confusion.
“As in, domesticating them,” he grumbles. “They belong in the wild.
End of story.”
“Babe,” Hannah hedges in, “are you just saying that because you’re scared of horses?”
His jaw drops. “I’m not scared of horses.”
She ignores the denial. “Oh my God, it’s all coming together. That’s why you wouldn’t go to the Thanksgiving fair in Philly.” She glances at the rest of us. “My aunt and uncle wanted to take us to this festival thing with all these cool booths and a petting zoo…and horseback riding. He said his stomach hurt.”
Garrett visibly clenches his teeth. “My stomach did hurt. I ate too much fucking turkey, Wellsy. Anyway, I don’t like this. I’m going to be so screwed when they break up.”
“They might not break up,” she points out.
I furrow my brow. “And how would that even affect you?”
Since I’m not seeing his logic, he slowly spells it out for me. “Sides, dude. People break up, their friends take sides. Dean’s my buddy, so obviously the bro code says I have to side with him. But this one—” He jerks a thumb at Hannah, “is my girlfriend. Girlfriend trumps buddy. Wellsy’ll take Allie’s side, and I’ll have to take Wellsy’s side, vis-à-vis, I’m taking Allie’s side.”
“I don’t think you’re using vis-à-vis right,” Morris pipes up.
“Yeah, I believe the word you’re looking for is therefore.” Logan’s lips are twitching wildly.
“I wouldn’t expect you to take Allie’s side on my behalf,” Hannah protests. “And you’re being such a jackass about this. We’re adults. If they break up, we’ll all still be able to co-exist peacefully.”
“Ross and Rachel co-existed,” Logan agrees. Fitzy snorts.
Garrett is too busy glaring at Hannah. “I can’t believe you’re cool with this. She’s your best friend. He’s going to blow this—you know that.”
His girlfriend shrugs. “All I know is that Allie is happy. And if Allie’s happy, I’m happy.”
“Tuck?” Garrett prompts.
I hesitate. On one hand, Dean seems genuinely into Allie, at least from the limited interactions between them that I’ve witnessed. On the other hand, the guy doesn’t have a serious bone in his body. Allie’s a nice girl. I don’t want to see her get hurt.
Either way, it’s none of my business.
“Wellsy’s right. They’re adults. If they want to be together, then who cares?”
He glowers at me. “Traitor.”
“Dude, the girl TKO’d him yesterday,” Logan says with a grin. “You know how big his ego is—if it could take that kind of hit and he still wants to be with her, then it’s the real deal.”
Despite myself, I start to laugh. Fuck. I wish the other guys were here last night for all the chaos. After the team’s road game to Scranton, Dean and I came home to a dark house where Allie and Dean’s sister were watching a horror movie. The girls freaked, Allie accidentally knocked Dean out with a paperweight, and now I’m equipped with enough ammo to torture him for the rest of his life.
“Oh hey, speaking of last night,” Hannah says. “Did Dean’s sister get back to Brown okay? I wish I got to meet her.”
“Trust me,” Fitzy mutters from the couch. “You’re lucky you didn’t.”
Logan snickers. “You poor thing—a hot blonde was throwing herself at you. How dare she!”
The other guy flushes. “She asked to see my dick!” “And that’s a problem because…?”
As Morris and Garrett start laughing their asses off, Fitzy just shrugs. “Aggressive chicks aren’t my thing. I like going at my own speed, all right?”
I’m tempted to call bullshit, because he sure didn’t seem to mind when Sabrina’s friend Carin dragged him to her car for a hookup. But Fitz and I haven’t really spoken about that night, so I stay quiet. Besides, if I mention the double date, everyone will demand to know who I was with.
The last time we saw each other, Sabrina teased me that I’m not telling people about us because I’m ashamed of her. Which is so not the case. My friends have a bad habit of sticking their noses into each other’s love lives
—case in point, Garrett’s obsession with Dean and Allie. So yeah, I’d rather not have my relationship with Sabrina dissected by everyone, not when it’s still so new.
And anyway, I know she’s secretly relieved that we’re on the DL. The one time I used the word relationship to describe us, she got all weird and fidgety on me.
“Okay, I gotta bounce,” I tell the room. “Any other grown-up issues we need to discuss, or can I go?”
“Go,” Garrett grumbles, making a shooing motion with his hand. “You were no help anyway.”
*
Sabrina
TUCKER’S TONGUE IS in my mouth before I can even close the front door. Despite the ripples of heat that assault my body, I force myself to wrench away from the kiss. Nana’s in the kitchen, and I don’t need her walking out and witnessing this.
“My grandmother’s home,” I murmur.
I expect disappointment, but he simply nods. “Cool. Want to introduce me?”
The one thing I’ve learned from dating Tucker this last month is that absolutely nothing fazes this guy. He takes everything in stride, adjusting and adapting as needed. I don’t even know what he looks like when he’s annoyed.
“I should warn you—Nana’s a bit…outspoken.” That’s my tactful way of saying rude bitch. As we head for the kitchen, I pray that my grandmother won’t be a jerk to Tucker.
She’s at the table when we walk in, flipping through an issue of US Weekly. “Did Ray forget his key again?” Nana asks without looking up.
“Um. No.” I shift awkwardly. “Nana, this is Tucker.”
Her head flies up. Immediately, interest fills her gaze. She studies Tucker from head to toe, so blatant in her ogling that I feel my cheeks heat up.
“Nana,” I chide.
She snaps out of it. “It’s very nice to meet you, Tucker.” She emphasizes the word very.
Great. My grandmother is hitting on my…well, I’m not sure what he is.
But Nana’s seductive tone still isn’t cool. “I’m Joy, Sabrina’s grandma.”
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” He extends his hand for a shake, and she holds it a little too long. Long enough that he looks uncomfortable when he steps back.
“Sabrina didn’t mention she had a boyfriend.” “We’re just friends,” I answer.
Tucker’s shoulders tense.
Aw fuck. I wasn’t trying to hurt his feelings. I simply don’t want Nana getting all nosy and asking us when the wedding is or some shit.
“I thought you were too busy for friends.” She lifts a mocking brow.
I grit my teeth. “I’m not too busy for friends. I hang out with Hope and Carin, don’t I?”
Rather than answer, she turns back to Tucker. “So, what are you two
friends up to tonight?”
I speak before he can. “We’re going to hang out in my room for a while.
Maybe watch a movie or something.”
A knowing smirk curves her lips. “All right then. Try to keep the volume down, hmmm?”
And we all know she’s not talking about the television volume.
Cheeks scorching, I drag Tucker out of the kitchen. “I’m sorry,” I say when we’re in the hall. “She can be inappropriate.”
His steady gaze finds mine. “Why would it be inappropriate for her to ask what we are to each other?”
I avert my eyes. He’s got me there.
Truth is, the reason I don’t want Nana asking questions is because I don’t have any answers. I don’t know what Tucker and I are to each other. All I know is that I miss him when he’s not around. That every time a text from him pops up on my phone, my heart soars like a cluster of helium balloons. That when he looks at me with those heavy-lidded brown eyes, I forget my own name.
We go to my bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the bed while I close and lock the door. A couple seconds tick by. Then he pats his lap and says, “C’mere, darlin’.”
I’m on him in a heartbeat, my legs wrapped around his waist and my fingers in his hair. “I really did miss you,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his.
Kissing Tucker is like sinking into a hot bath. It makes my skin tingle and turns my limbs to jelly, surrounding me in a cocoon of heat that I never want to emerge from. His tongue drags over my lower lip before easing into my mouth. His hands are warm and solid as they slide underneath my tank top and stroke my bare hips.
Before I know it, we’re tangled together on the bed, clawing at each other’s clothes even while our mouths stay locked. Once we’re naked, my body strains against him, aching for release. Tucker is just as frantic. There’s no foreplay, no words exchanged. I grab a condom from my nightstand, toss it to him, and he puts it on without delay.
It’s the quietest sex we’ve ever had. It has to be, because Nana is right down the hall. And there’s something so hot and dirty about the silent way we fuck. He fills me completely, sliding in and out of my pulsing core in a slow, sweet pace that drives me wild.
“Gonna come soon,” he whispers in my ear.
I open my eyes to find his handsome features stretched taut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he struggles to keep quiet.
The gorgeous sight succeeds in splintering the tension building inside me. As the orgasm crashes to the surface, I gasp and cling to his broad shoulders and hold him tight as he shudders on top of me.
Afterward, he rolls over and pulls me against him. His fingers thread through my hair as I curl one leg over his lower body. We snuggle wordlessly for a while, until Tuck finally breaks the silence by telling me what he’s been up to lately. We text regularly, so I know most of the stories already, but this guy’s voice is so sexy that I would listen to him recite a restaurant menu if it meant hearing that southern drawl purring in my ear.
I smother giggles behind my hand when he tells me how Dean’s girlfriend—figure that one out—knocked Dean unconscious with a paperweight last night. I kiss his shoulder when he confesses how much he’s looking forward to seeing his mom for the upcoming holidays. And when I admit how stressed I am over finals, he strokes my back and assures me that I’m going to kick ass.
Eventually we throw our clothes on and do put on a movie, but he’s the only one watching it. I crack open a textbook and start highlighting passages that I want to source in my paper. Tuck chuckles softly at the raunchy comedy on the small TV mounted to my wall.
Every so often he leans over and kisses my temple, rubs my cheek, tweaks my nipple.
Every so often I lean over and suck on his neck, stroke his beard, pinch his ass.
It’s the most perfect night I could’ve ever imagined. And in the back of my mind, a little voice keeps whispering, I could get used to this…
