“Surely you can squeeze me in a couple of hours.”
He knows how worried I am about this class. I’ve told him so multiple times. “No. It’s Friday or nothing.”
Irritation flashes briefly across his face. “Okay.”
For the life of me, I can’t help wondering why he wants to go out with me again. I can’t figure out why I’m agreeing.
“I’ll walk you to your door.” He removes his hand from my waist and returns it to my back.
I lightly push his arm away. “That’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later.”
He doesn’t look happy. Maybe he wanted another kiss at my door, but he says, “Okay,” and returns to his truck. I walk across the parking lot as he drives away. I pause halfway up the stairs and turn around, sitting on the step and lean my head against the railing. I can’t walk into our apartment and face Caroline. She’s going to want details, and I can’t bring myself to share them yet. There’s no doubt that tonight was a disaster.
What the hell is wrong with me?
This isn’t the first time I’ve asked myself this question, in a multitude of situations. But this time specifically I’m referring to my inability to feel anything when being kissed by a man. Maybe I’m just too broken.
That’s the part that scares me the most. That I’m too broken to love anyone.
Chapter Fifteen
I sit on the steps for at least ten minutes, crying out my heartache and anguish. I’ve gotten control of myself when a dark figure turns from the street and jogs across the parking lot. He’s wearing a gray sweatshirt, and the hood is over his head. His muscled calves stick out from under his long shorts, and I know who it is before he’s at the bottom of the staircase, pulling back his hood.
Tucker.
He looks up and sees me.
I wipe my fingertips across my cheeks and keep my gaze on him.
He takes in my movement. I’m sitting in the shadows, and I’m grateful he can’t see my face. I’m sure my nose is red and my eyes are swollen.
He leans over his knees, out of breath, his eyes still on mine. After several seconds, he climbs the steps, one slow step at a time until he sits next to me and takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers and squeezing.
I close my eyes and lean my head into his shoulder.
We sit like this for several minutes, maybe longer. I lose track of time because all I know is that sitting like this with him feels so right, so perfect.
His thumb rubs the back of my hand, making slow circles, and I feel the tension leave my body.
Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice soft and soothing. “Want to talk about it?”
I shake my head, my temple still pressed against his shoulder. Tucker is the last person I want to tell about my night with Daniel.
He pulls his hand from mine, and I’m sure he’s about to leave, but he wraps his arm around my back and pulls me against the side of his body. His free hand picks up my hand, curling over the top so his fingers now caress my palm.
“Do I need to kick the shit out of someone?” His arm tightens around my back. “Because if I find out who made you cry, I’m liable to do just that.” His words are soft, but somehow I know he means every word.
I shake my head again, burying my cheek into his chest. I must be dreaming because this can’t possibly be real. Tucker has not shown up outside of my apartment. He’s not holding me in his arms. Why is he here?
I look up into his face and his gaze lowers to my mouth. His arm tightens around my back, and he closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against mine. For several seconds, our breaths mingle and we’re breathing each other in. I’m amazed at how right this feels. Like I’ve been searching my entire life for this peace I feel in his embrace.
His head rises, and he gives me a sad smile. “I need to go.” But he doesn’t release me, instead looking into my eyes.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Thursday?”
I nod. “Thursday.”
He sighs and climbs to his feet. His hand reaches for mine, and I put my palm in his. His fingers curl gently around my hand, and he pulls me to my feet. “Are you going in now?”
“Yeah.” I feel calm enough to face Caroline, although I’m not sure what I’ll say to her.
He releases my hand and smiles.
“Goodb—”
Tucker places his finger on my lips. “Don’t say goodbye. I hate goodbyes.” Sadness creeps into his eyes.
My lips tingle and butterflies fight to escape from my stomach.
His finger slides off my lip. “Thursday.”
I smile. “Thursday.”
He bolts down the steps and turns around at the bottom and grins.