“You can come to the party, Scarlett. Tina says she’ll swing by and pick you up.”
I shake my head. “I’m exhausted, and I don’t want to run into Daniel.”
“He might not even be there.”
“True, but I can’t take any more drama right now. Maybe in a few weeks.” I’m surprised to discover that I mean it.
“You should be celebrating passing your test today, not sitting home pouting.”
“First of all, I’m not pouting. And second, I don’t know that I did well, I only think that I did.”
She waves her left hand while her right hand puts on a touch-up coat of mascara. “Please.”
“Besides, I have an exciting evening planned with my abacus.”
Her eyes widen as she stares at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
I grin. “Or maybe I’ll order a pizza and watch a movie on Netflix instead.”
“Now you’re getting wild and crazy.”
Lifting an eyebrow, I laugh. “I know, right?”
Her date arrives, and Caroline leaves me instructions like I’m the babysitter staying with her kids. Even though my mood has lifted some, she’s still worried about leaving me.
“Caroline,” I groan. “Go already.”
When her date gets her out the door, I actually consider going to bed. I’m exhausted but it’s only nine-thirty. If I go to sleep now I’ll be up around six on a Saturday morning. I’m not one to sleep in, but that’s ridiculously early, even for me.
The apartment is too quiet without her, and the emotions of the week make the walls of the apartment close in. I grab my coat and head down the stairs, stopping midway to face the half-empty parking lot. I sit on a step, leaning over my knees and breathing in the fresh air.
Sitting outside, especially at night, has always helped clear my head. When I was growing up, and the fighting and the drinking got to be too much, I’d escape to the stairs out the back door of our trailer. Old habits die hard. The apartment is fairly quiet, but the outdoors has become ingrained as a partial cure for my unease. The cold from the concrete seeps through my jeans, but I ignore it as I take in deep, steady breaths.
I rest my head against the railing and close my eyes. The rational part of me assures the irrational part that life will go on without Tucker Price, and I know for a fact that it will. But that doesn’t ease the pain of him being ripped from my life.
I hear a thud below me and open my eyes with a gasp.
Tucker is standing at the foot of the stairs.
He’s been running again, wearing shorts and a sweatshirt. He’s out of breath, and his shoulders rise and fall as he watches me.
Neither of us speak. The parking lot light washes half his face with a pale glow, but his expression is unreadable. He looks as though he’s waiting for something. Is he waiting for me? He knows what I want. It’s up to him.
He moves to the stairs, climbing them slowly until he’s several steps down, squatting in front of me. “Do you know why I’m here?” he asks, his voice husky.
I shake my head, unable to find the words to answer.
“Everything just feels so right when I’m with you, Scarlett. I can be me. But it’s more than that. You give me something I haven’t had in a long time, if ever. You give me peace. It’s like the jumbled mess in my head can settle down, and I can be still with you. Like none of the other stuff matters.” His voice catches, and he swallows. “I had a bad day and usually I’d get shitfaced drunk, but the only thing I could think of was I had to see you.”
“Me, too,” I whisper, tears blurring my vision.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. His tension washes away, then a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You wanted to get shitfaced drunk?”
A soft laugh escapes. “No, you give me peace.” I say the words, reinforcing how true they really are. When I’m with Tucker, my life makes sense.
He turns serious. “I don’t want to hurt you, Scarlett. I tried to stay away from you, but I need you too much.”
“Maybe I’ll hurt you,” I whisper as my eyes search his. “I’m broken, Tucker. I’m hopelessly broken inside, and I’m not sure there are enough pieces in me to put back together. But when I’m with you, I feel like maybe I can actually be whole.”
I expect him to look at me with pity or disgust, but instead his eyes are full of desire. “That scares the hell out of me, Scarlett. I don’t want to break you more,” he murmurs, standing and pulling me to my feet. His left hand slides down my jaw to my neck.
“You’ll break me more if you turn around and leave.”