"So I can come over and broody eyes isn't going to kick me out?"
"Broody eyes?" I laugh out loud, tilting my head back. "He does not have broody eyes."
"Please, he has the whole broody eyes thing down. I saw how he was looking at you from across the bar. It's how he won Adalyn over so quickly. She was practically licking the bar counter while you were talking to him."
"She was not." I laugh some more over how ridiculous Logan sounds. "He is not going to stop you from hanging out with me. I promise. He's a pretty cool guy, Logan. You two might actually really get along. Give him a chance. He's had a bit of a rough year or so. Once he gets to know you, you two will get along swimmingly."
"Swimmingly?" He quirks his lip to the side. "Not sure about that, but whatever."
"Thank you." I pull the keys from the ignition and say, "Come on, let's unload the five boxes I have so I can get to studying."
"Always opening the books. That's my girl." Trustworthy Logan, I adore the guy. He's always there for me when I need him.
I step out into the chilly Saturday afternoon air and quickly zip up my jacket. The weather has been decent all week but the day I have to move, it's scattered flurries and nipple-tightening cold.
Before I head to the back of the truck, I take in the sweet and quaint neighborhood. All the houses resemble the Cape Cod-style but differ from one another in their own right. All very well kept, making it seem like the perfect little place to live, a neighborhood I would never have pictured Tucker living in. Seems almost odd, like a family belongs here . . .
Oh my God.
A family.
My heart feels like it falls out of my chest as my brain starts connecting the dots. This house, this neighborhood, it's meant for a family, a family Tucker planned on having. The family he lost. My breathing starts to pick up, my throat closing in, just as Tucker pops out of the side door, hands tucked in his pockets as he approaches, a small smile on his face.
"Need some help?"
I push back the tears that want to fall for my friend and nod, knowing words won't form right now.
Tucker starts to walk past me to the back of the truck when he stops right in front of me and lifts my chin so I'm forced to make eye contact. Please don't see my sorrow; please don't see the pain I feel for your loss.
"What's wrong?" he asks, way too perceptive.
"Uh, nothing. Just chilly." I sniff.
He studies me, looking between my eyes, searching for answers. The intensity is almost too intense. I can't let it break my walls or disintegrate me under his light touch.
"Is everything okay over there?" Logan calls from behind the truck, pulling both our gazes toward him.
I shake Tucker off and nod as I head back to the truck to start unloading. "Just cold, that's all."
Not buying it, Logan whispers, "Did he fucking say something to you?"
"What?" I ask, surprised. "No, of course not. I just . . ." I lean forward and say, "I thought of something, I'll tell you later."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Putting on a bright smile, even though it feels like there is a battle of emotions warring inside me, I start unloading, watching Tucker lift two boxes at a time, Logan following right behind him. Thankful for two strong men helping me, I lift a sitting chair my grandma gave me that I repurposed and follow them both into the house. We walk through the front where I'm greeted by a white fireplace off to the right, brilliantly beautiful oak wood floors, and a spacious living room that's connected to a dining room by a sweet archway. The thick moldings and antique knobs give the house vintage character, making it more than charming. But with all its little bits and pieces of character, it's lacking one big thing: furniture. There is absolutely no furniture in the house, nothing hung, not even a knickknack above the fireplace. Not that Tucker is a knickknack kind of guy, but a picture frame would have at least added some hominess to the space.
"Tucker, your house is so cute."
"Thanks. Back here." He leads us past the dining room that connects to the kitchen and a staircase leading to what I'm going to assume is the master bedroom, and off to the left, a small hallway. We veer off to the right and into a bedroom that is spacious, much more spacious than I expected. There are two large windows that span almost the height of the wall and the beautiful floors I can't get over continue into the bedroom as well. The walls are a neutral grey, which is a nice calming tone, and the room right next to mine is a bathroom. The space couldn't be more perfect.
"This is my room?" I take it all in. "Wow, I feel a little spoiled."
Logan nods his head and it almost sounds like it pains him to say, "It's nice."