"Don't be sorry, Emma. Just talk to me."
"Is Racer still here?"
"Yes. He's finishing up the fireplace and then taking off."
I shift so I'm on my back and can see Tucker's face. "Oh, you should go finish with him. I don't want you to be rude."
"Racer's a big boy. He can handle finishing up on his own. You, on the other hand, I want to know what the hell is depriving me of your beautiful smile."
My lips purse together as I try to hold back more tears. He's so sweet and it's confusing. Is he just being nice because I'm his friend, or is there something else there? I want to believe there is something else. I feel like there is, but then again, I also feel slight resistance in Tucker, as if he hasn't fully given himself over to me. When I really consider us, that's what's concerning, because it all just circles back around to what Logan pointed out.
"Emma, please," he whispers as his forehead presses against my cheek. "If it's something I did, I'm sorry. If it's because of Racer being here, I was just trying to get the living room fixed up to surprise you. I wanted to make it warm and inviting, a place where you can study instead of being locked in your room or at the library all the time. I even bought a coffee table. Fuck, I'll never have Racer come over again."
Oh this sweet, sweet man.
"It's not Racer," I breathe out.
"Then what is it?" He pulls me in tighter. It's as if he's worried that if he lets go, he'll lose me forever. "Please talk to me, Emma."
I bite down on my lip for a second and come to the realization that I'm just going to have to talk to him. Be honest. Jesus, be a grown-up.
"I told Logan about us." The mention of Logan's name has Tucker sitting up and looking down at me, his hand still around my waist.
"What did he fucking say to you? Did he touch you? I swear to God, I will drop him to the floor so fucking fast."
I press my hand against Tucker's chest to calm him down. "He didn't touch me, Tucker. We're just friends."
"Yeah, then what the fuck did he say to you? Because clearly whatever he said is why you're so upset."
"He was just nervous about your intentions, that's all." Okay, he might have said a little more than that but I'm not ready to speak about Sadie, and I know Tucker isn't as well, hence rule number six.
"About my intentions?" he roars. Oh boy, he's mad. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Tucker has never liked Logan and now I know he's never, ever going to like him. "Where does this dickhead come off questioning my relationship with you? He doesn't even know me; he doesn't know us."
"He was just concerned, that's all." I try to rub the tension in Tucker's chest but he doesn't budge. His muscles are firing up and he's raking his hand through his hair. He hops out of bed and that's when I realize he's only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. He paces the room, anger in every step. Quite frankly, I'm beginning to feel concerned for Logan's welfare. Shit, I never should have never said anything. I can kiss goodbye study sessions over here with Logan, as there's no way Tucker will allow him in this house.
"He doesn't need to be concerned because it's none of his goddamn business." Tucker turns toward me, one hand on his hip, the other pulling on the back of his neck. Frustration courses through his body and you can visibly see it in how his body flexes with fury, like he's about to spin around and punch the living shit out of my wall. "So what did he say? Did he tell you to break up with me? To move in with him so he can take care of you because I'm some fucking monster?"
"No, nothing like that."
"Then what did he say?" Tucker asks, anger pouring off him.
Think, Emma. Diffuse this situation. Make it better, because right now it seems like Tucker is about to have an aneurism.
I sit up on the bed and push my back against the wall. "Can you please come sit down, you're making me nervous."
His face relaxes and instantly turns into concern with a slice of regret. "Shit," he mutters and sits down next to me. He pulls me onto his lap so I'm facing him and he places his hands on my hips. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you nervous. I'm just . . . fuck. I'm irritated. I don't like that whatever he said upset you. What we have is between us, Emma, and no one else. "
"What do we have, Tucker?" I ask softly, wanting desperately to hear that he feels the same about me as I do for him.
He lifts my chin and looks me in the eyes. "We have something fucking special. Something that makes me happy. You make me happy, Emma. Everything about you from your smile to your laughter, to your healing touch, I can't get enough of you."