by Emma Louise
“Well, lucky for you, we’re here.” Climbing out, I make my way around to open Brooke’s door. I don’t think twice before taking her hand in mine and guiding her toward the black glass door in front of us. I pretend I don’t hear the small gasp that she breathes out, but it’s obvious that we both just felt the bolt of electricity that the skin on skin contact elicits.
“What is this place?” looking up at the small brick building, I see her searching for a sign as to what this place is. She won’t find anything. This is one of the best kept secrets in California.
“Well, if it isn’t Tucker fucking Neal.” A loud voice booms from a concealed speaker somewhere the eye can’t see. “And who is the beautiful creature with you?”
“Open up, Zeus, and I’ll introduce you.” Brooke’s adorably confused face looks up at me as I speak.
“What on earth...”
“Trust me, babe, Zeus needs to be experienced. Explaining him will not do him justice at all.”
The sound of locks twisting pulls Brooke’s attention off me right before the door is swung open and we’re greeted by a very large, grinning like a maniac black man.
“You’re like a real-life Barbie doll!” Zeus exclaims as he grabs ahold of Brooke’s hand and starts to drag her inside.
“What...” she manages to squeak out before they disappear into the dark. Closing the door and locking it, I quickly follow behind. Brooke is going to lose her shit any second, and I do not want to miss it.
“Oh my goodness!” Pushing back the heavy black curtain, I see Brooke standing in the center of the cavernous space. Her hands are on her cheeks as she slowly turns around, taking in the many canvases that are spread around the room. “He’s Zeus Santos!” She whisper-yells when she sees me standing there. Her liquid blue eyes are ablaze as she tries to process what she’s seeing.
When she was a teenager, Brooke’s bedroom walls were filled with prints of this man’s art. While she never had any desire to become an artist herself, she loved going to museums and art galleries, dragging me along with her. Of all the artists we would go and see, Santos was always her favorite.
In a strange twist of fate, he’s a huge racing fan. We met after a face-out in Florida and became good friends. He knows all about Brooke. One too many whiskeys one night had me spilling my guts and telling him everything. He’s been telling me for years to go and find her, but I was always too pigheaded to listen. The second I told him she was back, he demanded I bring her to meet him.
“Tucker! He. Is. Zeus freaking Santos.”
Fuck, there are tears in her eyes as she moves toward me. I know they’re happy tears, I’d know that without seeing the huge grin on her face, but seeing them still twists me up. I’m frozen in place as she stops close enough for our chests to be touching. Her full lips rub against each other nervously as indecision pulls across her face. I’m not sure which of us is more shocked when she throws her arms around me and buries her face into my chest.
“Thank you,” she whispers softly, but I feel the vibrations from those two timid words seep right through me. Sweet pain fills every part of me as my arms wrap around her tiny frame. Giving myself over to the moment, I hold on tight, reveling in the magnificence of having her back in the one place she should have always been. Right here, with me holding her tightly.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BROOKE
“Tucker? When were you going to tell us?”
The FaceTime call has barely had time to connect fully before I hear my mom’s amused voice. Why am I not surprised she knows about Tucker being around before I’ve had time to tell her? I love my family, but they gossip worse than a bunch of old ladies sometimes.
“Chase is such a girl! I’m surprised it took him two weeks to tell Aunt Poppy, though.” I huff in annoyance.
“Oh, he told her that night. I was just giving you a chance to tell me yourself.” She looks at me as if she’s disappointed that I haven’t been keeping her up to date on my life enough.
“There was nothing to tell, Mom.”
“There was nothing? But now...” She trails off, waiting for me to fill in the gaps. What do I tell her? That for the first time in forever, I’m feeling again? That even though we got off to a rocky start, being around Tucker again feels like the most natural thing ever?
“Mom…” I flounder, trying to find a way to explain everything that has happened over the last few weeks. I’ve not taken the time to process it all myself, so I have no idea what to tell her.
“Are you happy, baby girl?” Duke’s concerned face appears next to my mom’s, and the urge to break down and cry hits me hard. Am I happy? Weirdly, I am. It wasn’t until I saw him again that I realized how much not knowing where Tucker was or if he was okay was eating at me. Now he’s here, and I can’t deny that seeing him has settled something deep inside me. I spend the next little while telling my parents all about how Tuck and I reconnected. I don’t tell them the details; I don’t trust Duke not to be on the first plane out here to beat Tucker’s ass for how he acted at the bar that night. I do, however, tell them about his connection to The House, and how he surprised me with a visit to my idol’s art studio, something I’m still struggling to get my head around.
My mom looks like she’s about to burst from the barely concealed excitement, but Duke keeps his expressionless eyes on me. He’s trying to work out if I'm really okay with what’s going on here.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he finally says when I'm done speaking. “Are you happy?”
“Am I being stupid? Is it better to leave the past alone?” I evade.
“Only you can answer that,” my mom answers softly.
“I expected you to tell me to stay far away from him, Dad” I chuckle lightly.
“Why? You told us you broke up because you wanted different things. Was there more to it? Is there a reason you think I would warn you away from him?”
“No, there wasn’t anything more to it,” I murmur.
“Just listen to your heart then, baby girl. Only you know if you’re doing the right thing.”
***
My dad’s words are still playing on repeat hours later as I go about my day. What is my heart saying? I try to listen, but my mind won't shut up long enough for me to hear it.
My mind tells me to be careful, Tucker might not have been to blame for us being apart all those years, but that doesn’t mean he won’t have the power to break me if we try something and it doesn’t work out.
Does he even want that? He said he wanted a chance to be friends, nothing more.
No. I felt it when he was holding me in Zeus’ studio that day.
I felt it.
The connection is there, alive and strong; I know it is.
Right on cue, my phone vibrates across the kitchen island. Picking it up, I see a message from Tucker.
What are you doing?
Closing my eyes, I try to silence my racing thoughts.
It's time, Brooke. Stop letting life pass you by.
If you want Tucker, go and get him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TUCKER
Send me your address. I’ll bring dinner.
My eyes practically fall out of my head when I see Brooke’s response to my message. She’s been quiet these last few days. Outside of a few brief responses to my texts, she’s seemed distracted. As hard as it’s been, I’ve not pushed her. I’d love nothing more than to go to her, to ask her what’s wrong, but I know she’s still skittish around me.
I send her directions to my apartment, but I tell her not to pick up food and that I’ll order something for us. She replies telling me that she’ll be there in an hour, and that’s when I start to freak out. She’s coming here, to my home. That’s not a line we’ve crossed so far. We’ve only seen each other face-to-face a handful of times and we’ve been in public around other people. Even then it’s been hard not to come on strong with her. I’ve had to battle the urge not to reach out and touch her sometime
s. A few times I’ve caved and brushed my hand against hers, or moved a strand of silky hair away from her face. I’m not sure how I can restain myself once we’re alone, and the last thing I want to do is scare her away by pushing her too hard too soon.
Trying to distract myself, I quickly pick up the place. Luckily, I have a cleaner who comes in a few times a week, so it’s not too bad in here. Taking a quick cold shower, I’m dressed and trying to talk myself out of changing the bedsheets when the buzzer goes.
Nerves tickle at my stomach as I walk over to open the door.
What if I fuck this up?
Swinging the door open, I’m taken aback by the beautiful sight before me.
Brooke, in one of her usual short summer dresses, long legs on show. Her golden hair is down, soft waves that frame her gorgeous face. She stares up at me, her wide eyes full of what I think might be uncertainty. Her teeth are clamped down on her plump bottom lip.
Not a word is said as I open the door wide so she can step inside. There’s an odd vibe in the air, and I can’t shake the feeling Brooke is locked inside her own thoughts.
Closing the door, I follow Brooke inside. She doesn’t look around, just keeps walking until she stands in front of the wall of glass that looks out over Beverly Hills.
“Are you happy, Tuck?” she asks softly, not turning to look at me. My eyes find hers in the reflection of the glass.
Do I answer that honestly? Do I tell her that I’ve found some moments of contentment over the years, but I don’t think I've ever been truly happy since she left? I’m still trying to formulate an answer when she continues.
“Duke asked me that today, and I couldn’t answer him. I wanted to say yes. I’m supposed to be happy. I’ve got great friends, an amazing family, the job of my dreams. But still, there’s a hole inside me. One I've never been able to fill.”
“Brooke—”
“It’s you,” her whisper is agonizingly low. I give up trying to hold back. Stalking over to her, I take ahold of her arm and turn her to face me, needing some kind of connection between us. “I know it was me. I was the one to walk away, but I missed you every day.” Her admission kills me; she blames herself, but it was me. I was the selfish prick that ruined what we had.
“Baby, there hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought about you. Wondered where you were. Missed you.”
The kiss catches me off guard. Her lips slam against mine and just like that, the past fades away. My arms circle her waist, pulling her close. Her hand slides up my shoulders, into my hair as she tries just as hard to get me closer.
There's nothing tentative about this. We meet each other lick for lick, but it’s not a battle for domination—it’s an exploration. It’s a reminder of what we are to each other. Everything about the soft stroke of her lips on mine feels right.
We stay like that, wrapped up in each other for what feels like mere seconds, nowhere near long enough. Letting my hands roam over her, I bask in the familiarity of the feelings coursing through me. Her body might have changed in places, but I still feel her. My Brooke.
Gripping her thighs, I lift her so her legs wrap around my waist. “Tell me you want this,” I ask, not letting my lips move far from hers. Her limbs tighten around me, and I feel her nodding. It’s not enough; I need the words.
Easily finding my bedroom, I kick the door open and gently drop her onto the bed. She stares up at me, her chest matching mine in its deep, uneven breaths.
“Tell me. I want to hear you say it.” The words are little more than a growl. I’m strung too tightly right now for them to be anything else.
“I want this. I want you, Tucker.” That’s all it takes for my thinly held together restraint to snap. Brooke’s dress goes up and over her head, and at the same time she makes a grab for my belt. Pushing her hands away, I take a step back from the bed.
“I’ve waited a long time for this. Let me see you.” She’s a vision. A stunning vision in white lace panties, spread out for me to worship. “Fuck, Brooke.” Just looking at her is agony. I need to touch her. Letting my hands trail up the silk of her legs, I gently pry them apart, stopping her from rubbing her thighs together in a search for some relief. This gets a low, throaty groan rumbling from her.
“Are you aching?” I ask, moving back so I can strip out of my clothes that suddenly feel stifling.
“Touch me, please.” I don’t want to just touch her; I want to imprint myself on each and every inch of her. I don’t want to just taste her; I want to devour her.
Her eyes blaze as she watches me climb onto the bed in front of her. As much as I’m craving to taste her again, it’s her mouth that calls to me right now. Pushing my way between her thighs, I slide my hands underneath her back. Unhooking her bra, I slip the straps down her arms before removing it completely. My mouth finds hers, sucking her tongue deep. White hot heat fires in my veins. How have I lived without her? Without her soft warmth in my arms? Nothing has ever come close to feeling like this. Nobody else's taste has ever ignited inside me like this.
Brooke’s hips lift, searching for me, for the relief only I can give her. Her hands haven’t stopped moving over the hard planes of my back, down my ass, and up into my hair. She feels as frantic as me right now. Kissing my way down her jaw, I leave a trail of open kisses, soft nips, and tasting licks on my path to her chest. Once there I don’t waste time—I go straight for her nipples. Pushing her tits together, I show them both equal amounts of attention. Deep sucks, long licks. I don’t stop until they are both rosy pink and soaking wet.
“Tuck, please.” Brooke’s quiet moan has my gut clenching and my painfully hard cock jerking in anticipation. Will she moan when I sink deep inside, like she used to? Her nails dig a scorching trail as they rake up my back.
“Are you ready for me, my sweet Brooke?” I ask as my fingers find their way between her thighs.
Hot, wet heat. Sliding inside of her, Brooke doesn’t hesitate to ride my hand. I need to see this, see her lose herself for me. I’m up on my knees, three fingers deep inside her, and the thumb of my other hand rolls over her primed clit. I watch, fascinated by how her body reacts to my touch. What we had before was amazing, but we were two kids learning each other's bodies. This is a whole other level.
Her eyes slide closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Head tipped back to the soft mattress, her heels plant in the bed as her hips move to match each thrust of my fingers.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I growl, but she’s too lost to hear me. She starts to flutter around my fingers, the tell-tale sign she’s about to come, and come hard.
“Don’t stop.” She gasps as her body coils tighter and tighter.
“Never,” I promise, knowing I'll do whatever it takes to keep it. That’s all it takes for her to let go. For her beautiful body to twist and convulse as pleasure overtakes her. Shit. The urge to come without even getting inside her is overwhelming. The wait for her to come back to earth is agonizing, but I need her here with me the first time I slide inside. I need to know she’s aware of what this means to me.
“I want you inside me.” Clear blue eyes flutter open as she makes her breathy declaration. I’m over her in a flash, and she welcomes me with zero hesitation. Running my hands over her ass and down her thighs, I hook her behind her knees, shifting her legs to wrap around my waist.
Brooke shocks the shit out of me when she reaches down in between us and curls her tiny hand around my cock. My hips move reflexively, pumping into her tight grip. “Faster, baby. I want to feel you,” she murmurs hotly against the skin of my neck where her head is currently buried deep. Wrapping my hand around hers to slow her torturous movements, we both guide my cock to where it needs to be.
I feel it before the first inch is even inside her. Finally, everything falls into place. All the pieces of me that have been scattered are finally coming back together, and I know with unerring certainty, this is where I belong.
She is where I belong.
S
he lets me worship her for the rest of the night. I take my time, re-learning all my favorite parts of her, and she does the same with me. When she falls asleep in my arms, I hold her as tightly as I can. This is new for us. We might have stolen nights when we were kids, but lying to your parents so you could spend the night in sleeping bags in the back of a beat-up old truck is not the same as having her here, naked and in my arms with every glorious inch of her pressed close to my side.
I've had this dream. I've imagined having her here. But nothing compares to actually living it.
I’m scared to let myself slip into sleep.
What if I’m just dreaming again? What if I wake up and none of it was real? The soft whisp of Brooke’s breath against my chest is the reminder I need. She’s here, giving me the second chance I need to make sure she never walks away from me again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BROOKE
“This place is gorgeous.” Clutching my coffee cup tightly, I wander around Tucker’s apartment.
“Hmm,” is his non-committal reply as he makes us breakfast. I didn’t have time to notice it when I got here last night, but now I’m seriously impressed. The open floor plan makes the place feel huge. The first thing you see when you walk in is the kitchen with all it’s gleaming white cabinets and stunning gray marble. The open plan dining room flows perfectly into the elegant living room. The views from the floor-to-ceiling glass walls are breathtaking. I can easily imagine watching the sunset over the hills in the distance.
The whole place is light and bright, thanks to everything being a shade of white or gray. Even the art on the walls, while beautiful, is all neutral shades. The only pop of color is a vivid blue abstract painting I can immediately tell is by Santos.
The apartment truly is stunning. It's just not Tucker. I can’t reconcile the boy that was forever covered in oil and grime with someone who lives somewhere so pristine.
I’m looking out at the view when two large, warm hands wrap around my stomach, and I’m pulled back against a hard, naked torso. Tuck buries his face in my neck, dropping a series of kisses on my heated skin. I can’t believe I’m here with him like this. After speaking with my parents, it was like something clicked in my brain. I’ve regretted leaving him every day since I did it, so why am I wasting more time? I didn’t plan on throwing myself at him the way I did, but considering how the night turned out, I don’t regret any of it.