My Best Friend's Ex(95)

"You know, since it's so new, I really don't want to talk about it. Superstitious and all." I cross my fingers and hold them up to Sadie, which garners an eye-roll.

"You're still superstitious about things? Please don't tell me you continue to wear pink underwear on Tuesdays and Thursdays in hopes you will one day marry Chris Pine."

I chuckle at my ridiculousness. "My Chris Pine-ing days are over unfortunately."

"So unfortunate." We pull into the driveway and Sadie puts the car in park and turns to me, hands in her lap. "At least promise me when you're ready to talk about the new boy you'll tell me all about him."

I nod and gather my things, unable to really formulate words. "Thanks for the lift, Sadie."

"Any time. Have fun finishing up your studying and say hi to Tucker for me."

Yeah, that's not going to happen. "Sure. See ya."

I rush from her car and quickly make my way into the house. It's quiet when I shut the door but I know I'm not alone. Tucker's truck is parked out front and his wallet and keys are on the counter. The man is around here somewhere.

"Hello?" I call out.

There is a crash in the dining room that pulls my attention. I set my things down and rush to where I heard the sound. Tucker is standing in the dining room, his hand in his hair, his work clothes still on, and a potted plant shattered on the floor.

"Oh no, are you okay?"

He puts his hand out to stop me. "Don't come closer, babe. I don't want you to step on any glass."

"What happened?"

Hand still in his hair, he looks up at me through his lashes and says on a chuckle, "You startled me."

"I startled you?" I laugh.

"Yeah. I was trying to get this little herb garden I made into the kitchen before you came home, since you suggested the other day that we should grow our own herbs."

Freaking melt my heart.

"Aw, Tucker, that's so sweet."

"Yeah, well it's a fucking mess now. Do me a favor, babe? Go into the basement. In the back far right corner, under some blankets, there is a shop vac. Can you grab it? It will be the easiest way to clean this mess up."

"Sure, not a problem."

I go to the basement, which is through the kitchen by the side door and hold on to the rail as I make my way down the rickety stairs. I don't ever go in the basement, so navigating my way around is proving to be difficult.

"Lights, where are the lights?" I feel around for a light switch but there are no walls for a light switch. I'm about to turn around when my head skims across something dangling from the ceiling. For a second I freak out thinking it's a spider trying to spindle my hair into a web when I realize it's a pull cord for a light.



       
         
       
        

"Oh, thank God," I mutter, turning the light on.

From above, I can hear Tucker moving around toward the front door. Hopefully he's not tracking dirt everywhere because that will be a nightmare to clean up.

I look around toward the corners but don't see a shop vac. I look under the blankets like Tucker said but see nothing. "Where the hell are you, shop vac?" I call out, hoping the machinery will make itself known. I take a few minutes to look around but Tucker really doesn't have much in the basement besides some random tools, painting supplies, and wood. Makes sense since he works in construction.

"Hmm . . ." I tap my chin, take one more look and then head back upstairs. When I reach the kitchen, I hear voices coming from the living room.

"Wow, it looks amazing in here." Sadie? She came inside?

"Thanks," Tucker gruffs out. "I, uh, thought I would make it not look so sterile."

"You did an amazing job. It truly looks like a warm and inviting home in here, Tucker."

"That's how I envisioned it." For some reason, his answer makes me feel ill. It's how he envisioned it. What does that mean? Did he mean when he bought the house for Sadie? Or did he envision it this way when trying to make it comfortable for me? This shouldn't matter, I shouldn't care, but with Sadie in the next room, walking through the house that was supposed to be hers-theirs-I have a sinking feeling it is the former.

I walk toward the dining room and peek around the wall, observing them for a second. Sadie is holding one of my nursing books-shit, I must have left it in the car in my haste to get the hell away from her probing questions-and Tucker stands a few feet away, hands in his pockets, his eyes trained on her. His body language doesn't read stiff like I expected it to be. It's more natural, almost leaning in her direction.