He chuckles and kisses me on the forehead. "Nah, I'm just kidding." He separates himself from me so casually that I feel like falling over from the sudden lack of support. How can he just switch moods like that? As if he wasn't just inches from touching my breasts. "I wouldn't make you do the dishes for a week. Two tops." He winks and heads toward my door. When he turns around, he nods at my body and says, "By the way, don't wear that shirt around the house, please. Your tits look far too tempting. Have a good night, babe."
My tits look far too tempting? What the what?
"Wait," I call out, my mind all sorts of confused. "Are we, uh, are we okay?"
He grips my doorframe and genuinely smiles at me. "Yeah, babe. We're okay. Your apology wasn't necessary but I appreciate it. That time of our lives is over. I want to move on. I want to focus on the present with you, on our friendship and the time together we have before you graduate." He pauses and then says, so freaking thoughtfully, "Asking you to move in was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Having you in my life again means the world to me." With one last look, he bids me goodnight and quietly shuts my door.
Friendship. Our friendship. How can he act so casual when he's burning up a wave of desire inside of me?
I fling myself on my bed, my hands on my heart, feeling the rapid beat of it as I stare up at the ceiling. Why is he the nicest guy ever? And why would I even think he would ask me to suck his cock? He's not that kind of douchey. Maybe subconsciously I wanted to suck his dick . . .
No, that can't be it, can it? I'm not a huge dick to the mouth kind of girl.
Oh God, am I crushing on my roommate?
Images flash through my mind.
Tucker shirtless.
Tucker smiling over his morning coffee.
Tucker's deodorant that I've sniffed a few times . . . make that every morning.
Shit, I'm crushing on my roommate.
I'm crushing on Tucker Jameson.
This is bad. This is really bad.
Chapter Twelve
TUCKER
I don't think I've been this enthusiastic in a really long time. And over a piece of furniture. No, scratch that, I'm not necessarily excited about the piece of furniture, more excited about the look on Emma's face when she sees said piece of furniture.
When I heard our local furniture store was having a sale, I went down and took a look at what they had in stock. Lucky for me, I found a dark grey couch that would fit perfectly in my empty living room. The cost was reasonable, the delivery was free, well, besides the beer I owe Racer for helping me bring it into the house, but now, standing in my living room, looking at the piece of furniture, I can't help but wonder if Emma will approve.
I've never picked out a piece of furniture from a store before. I have no decorating style whatsoever, so I picked a color I liked and made sure it was comfortable. The comfortable part was the most important factor. I hate stiff sofas. They're meant to be good enough to sleep on.
Nervously, I pace the living room, occasionally looking out the window every few minutes. It's past eight. She should be home by now. She's never home this late. What the hell is she doing?
I pick up my phone to see if I missed any messages from her but there is nothing. I'm about to call her when I see a car pull onto our street and when the headlights flash down the driveway, my stomach flips and my nerves kick into overdrive.
She's home.
Home.
Up until now, I haven't considered this place my home. How is it that with Emma living here, it actually feels like home to me?
Maybe because she brings a certain light to the dreary dungeon I've created between these walls.
I go to the side door where I open it and stick my head out to greet her. When she sees me, her gorgeous smile lights up her face. That smile, that thick, lush hair, those kind eyes.
Emma.
The girl I grew up with, the girl who I'm now sharing a house with, temporarily at least.
"Hey there." She shuts her car door, her nursing books are close to her chest, and her backpack is slung over one shoulder. "Is this a new rule? Must meet roommate at door?"
Yes, because you came home to me.
"No." I take her books and backpack from her and step to the side so she can walk inside. "I have something to show you."
Looking a little skeptical, she steps into the kitchen and turns around to face me as she takes off her coat. Underneath, she's wearing her blue nursing scrubs, a pale blue that makes her eyes shine. "You have something to show me, should I be scared? It's not a bunch of guys with small dicks for the magazine we talked about, is it?"