by Meghan Quinn
I push off the wall and walk to her door just as she calls out, her voice shaky, “It’s over, Tucker.”
“Not if I can fucking help it.”
I slam her door shut and retreat to my room, my heart heavy, and a whirlwind of emotions swirling through my head. I can’t lose her. Why the fuck did I say something so stupid? Things were so good. You’re a stupid asshole, Jameson.
She’s the best thing in my life.
My everything.
She’s not moving. This is not over. That woman down there, she’s meant to be mine and I’ll be damned if I let her walk away from me. She doesn’t need to protect her heart from me. She holds mine in her hands, and I’ll never take it back. Emma Marks is mine.
Chapter Twenty-Three
EMMA
Have you ever tried studying when all you can think about is the broken heart that beats regardless within your chest? It’s pretty much impossible. I haven’t retained anything in three weeks, which is proving to be detrimental to my studying schedule. Graduation is in two weeks, my exam is two days after that and all I can think about is Tucker.
Not if I can fucking help it.
His parting words to me. Since that night, I haven’t heard from him. Not a phone call, not a text, not even a little morning hello. The only thing I’ve received from him was a note on the counter two days after our fight saying he’s been sent to Pittsburgh for another training project. He wasn’t sure when he would be back. He asked me to water the plants and be sure to eat my daily amount of vegetables.
That was it.
Since then, nothing.
I know I ended everything, but after his parting words, I thought maybe there was some hope, maybe he could get past his demons and fully embrace me. Us. But three weeks of radio silence has tamped down that hope, straight into the grave that is Tucker and Emma.
“Uh hello, earth to Emma.” Adalyn snaps her fingers in my face. “Are you going to say hi?”
“What?” I look away from the sentence I’ve highlighted five times to see Logan standing at the end of our table. “Oh, uh, hey, Logan.”
“Hey.” He looks to Adalyn and then back to me. “Think I can borrow you for a second?”
Since I have yet to actually retain what I’m reading, I’m thinking a little break in the monotony of studying might do me some good.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Want to go get some coffee at the kiosk?” he asks.
“Sure. Adalyn, do you want anything?”
“Caffeine dripped from the coffee bean’s teat. Ask if they have an IV.”
“I take that as a dark roast, black.” She nods and focuses all her attention on the books in front of her. That should be me. Single focused.
Should.
As we walk to the kiosk, we’re both silent, making this outing a little awkward. We order our drinks and while we wait, Logan finally breaks the ice by knocking his foot playfully against mine. “I don’t think we’ve ever been this quiet around each other.”
“I don’t think so either.” I nervously laugh and then sigh. “Listen, Logan, I’m sorry for getting so defensive—”
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so bold in my assumptions. You were right, I didn’t know you two as a couple and I never should have said anything. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Our order is called out and instead of going back to the library, we sit on the bench. Adalyn’s coffee is piping hot so we have some time to spare.
“So, how’s it going with you two?”
My eyes sting as I hold back the tears that have wanted to fall every second of every day whenever I think of Tucker. “It’s not going,” I answer, my throat choking up on me.
“What do you mean? Did you break up?” I nod. “Oh shit.” Logan wraps his arm around me and pulls me in close. “I’m sorry, Emma. Please tell me it’s not from what I said.”
I shake my head. “No, I think what you said actually held some weight.”
“Really?” He doesn’t sound happy, more sad than anything. What the?
“Yeah. I don’t think he was ready to really hand his heart over. I don’t think he was using me as a distraction. I do think he cared for me, but I could tell he wasn’t ready, and honestly, I don’t think I’m strong enough to wait around for him to love me.”
“Do you love him?”
I lean my head against Logan’s shoulder as a stray tear falls down my cheek. “Yeah, I do. I don’t think there was any choice in the matter for me. My soul connected with his and I fell for him.” I fell hard. “Despite knowing the whole time there was a roadblock between us. I just thought we’d be able to get over it. But I was wrong.”
“Did you break up with him?” I nod. “Were you protecting yourself?” I nod again. “So where does he stand in all of this? What did he say? Did he accept the breakup and move on? Or did he put up a fight?”
That night has been on replay in my head for weeks. I can see it playing out so easily, remember everything said. The sound of his voice as he shut my door, the hope I felt . . . The hope then squashed by his silence.
“It seemed like he was putting up a fight. I didn’t think he’d accept my decision, but I haven’t heard from him in weeks.”
“What do you mean? Don’t you share a house?”
“He’s been in Pittsburg training for three weeks.” My voice hiccups on me.
“Oh.” Logan is silent, taking a moment to process what I said. He brings his coffee to his lips and takes a drink before saying, “But he sounded like he wasn’t giving up?”
“That’s how it seemed when I broke things off. But I haven’t heard from him. I think it’s over.” And admitting that hurts more than when I was trying to save my heart.
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Logan. I’m not going to be wishful here. If he cared, he would have contacted me by now. I’m done.” It hurts to hope. I stand and brush my bottom off before turning to him. “Ready? Adalyn is going to be pissed if her coffee is cold.”
“Yeah.” He holds his coffee and Adalyn’s as he puts his hand on the small of my back for a brief second, guiding me toward the library. “I don’t think you should throw in the towel just yet.”
“You’re sweet, Logan, but I’m not holding on to any hope.”
“I think you should.”
“Why are you pushing this? According to Tucker, you want to fuck me, and would have sworn you would have swooped in by now,” I tease, but I’m also curious to hear his answer.
“He thought that, did he?” Logan asks, a smile to his face as he takes a drink of his coffee. “Then I did my job.”
“Did what job?”
“Made him feel threatened. Jealous. That right there tells me there is still hope, Emma. If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t have cared about me. But he cares.”
“You made him jealous on purpose?”
He loops an arm around my shoulder and kisses the top of my head. It’s funny how with Logan, when he does that, I feel cared for by an older brother. When Tucker kisses me like that, I feel treasured. No. I felt treasured. “I have to make sure my girl is taken care of. You’re my best friend, Emma, and only the best man deserves you. So if I have to act territorial to see if he’s willing to piss a circle around you, then I will do just that.”
“Oh my God,” I laugh. “You’re such an ass.”
“A caring ass.” He winks over his coffee cup. “I expect the same kind of treatment from you.”
I poke him in the side, putting a little distance between us. “Just you wait. Once you meet the girl for you, I’m going to make sure your life is a living nightmare.”
“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
“He got defensive about you.” That causes Logan to throw his head back and laugh. “It’s not funny. He was really convinced you wanted to sleep with me.”
He continues to laugh, drawing the attention from others around us. “Oh that’s great. Man, Emma, he really fuc
king likes you because I wasn’t even that bad.”
I huff as I walk into the library. “I can’t believe that’s something guys do.”
“Only the smart ones looking out for their girls. Now, tell me in detail everything he said about me.”
I point my finger at him. “You’re a dick.”
“Come on, just give me a little something.”
“No.” We get to the table where Adalyn is studying and sit down. Logan hands her the coffee and she breathes it in before taking a long swig.
“Oh, that’s good.” She glances between the both of us. “Why are you laughing, did I miss something?”
“Logan was pretending to like me in front of Tucker to piss him off.”
She takes another sip. “Oh, I know.” She fist-pumps Logan. “Well-played. You really got the old jealousy bug ticking in his bones.”
“You knew?” I shout and am quickly hushed by people around us so I whisper, “You knew?”
“Of course.” She shrugs her knowledge off. “Classic best-friend move made by a guy. He couldn’t have executed it any better.” They laugh at my expense.
“I hate you both.” I cross my arms over my chest and try not to pout. “Not like it helped anyway.”
“He still hasn’t talked to you?” Adalyn asks, confused. “Not even a text?”
“Nothing.” I bite the inside of my cheek, willing away the tears that threaten to fall.
The silence is killing me. I miss him. I miss his rough, sleep-ridden voice in the mornings, his work clothes that cling to every last inch of muscle on his body. I miss his kisses, his strong arms wrapped around me, the way he would whisper in my ear, igniting my entire body. And mostly, I miss his heart that seemed to care deeply for me.
I shrug, putting on a brave face. “Maybe it’s for the better. I may have a job panning out in Boston. Maybe a new city is just what I need.”
A fresh beginning, something far away from the place I’ve recently called home. `
Chapter Twenty-Four
TUCKER
“Fucking pizza,” I mutter, pushing the box to the side. Four fucking nights in a row of the stale shit. Who ever said you can’t get sick of pizza is wrong. I’m all cheesed out. Three weeks living off hotel breakfast, soggy sandwiches, and pizza at night has left me more irritated than when I was told I had to report to Pittsburgh for some bullshit management training. Honestly, I think Julius is required to go to these courses for his business but sends me instead to complete his dirty work.
And what makes it even worse? I’m too fucking far away from Emma.
I had everything planned out on how to fix this shit between us, but my quick departure screwed everything up and the last thing I want to do is try to fix this over the phone. So instead, I’ve taken this time to journal.
I know . . . journal.
I’ve never picked up a pen and thought about writing down my feelings, but that’s what I’ve been doing, every night. Writing it all out, bleeding my emotions through my pen and onto the paper. And do you know what I’ve come to realize since I’ve started journaling? The emotional attachment I have to Sadie has a lot to do with how she took care of me when I needed someone to love me, to watch over me, and not with the love we once shared. Funny how long it took me to realize that.
The baby, well, my need to travel down the opposite path my mother paved for me is overwhelming. The baby gave me an opportunity to love something other than myself, to show the world that despite my upbringing, I can be a man, a provider, a responsible and loving parent. But Sadie helped me. We weren’t ready, and maybe this time I’ve spent building my career will help make me an even better father when another opportunity presents itself.
The silence between Emma and me has also been for her benefit. I needed to get my head on straight. I want to be the man she deserves, the man that will provide for her, the man that gives her all of his heart without anything standing in the way. Because I know with one hundred percent certainty. That’s what I want. Her.
My phone rings, pulling me away from Hayden’s hockey game that’s on the small flat-screen TV in front of me.
Racer.
“What’s up, man?”
“I missssssss you!” he cries like a dickhead in the phone. “I need an Oatmeal Creme Pie in my mouth.”
“You know you can buy them yourself, right?”
“I would but I’m saving my money.”
“You’re such a cheap fuck.”
He laughs on the other end of the phone. “I fucking know it and wear that title with pride.”
“Please tell me you’ve at least stopped taking toilet paper from the Port-o-potties.”
“Why the hell would I do that? If I have to go in there to take a piss, I’m at least going to get something out of it.” He laughs as if he just thought of something. “Oh shit, Julius went into one of the shit boxes today and came out raging in red, pants unbuckled, yelling about there never being toilet paper. I fucking fell over laughing. Smalls got it on his Snapchat. Did you see it?”
“I don’t do social media, you know that.”
“Fuck, you’re such a grandpa.”
“Is there a reason for this phone call, or did you call just to dick with me?” I put my phone on speaker and lay it against my chest as I put both my hands behind my head and watch the muted game play out.
“Didn’t know I had to have a reason to talk to my best friend.”
“Best friend, huh? Laying it on thick. What do you want, man?”
“I don’t want anything, but there is something I need to talk to you about.”
“I knew it.” I chuckle into the phone. “What is it? Did you fuck up another fireplace? Slam your head through a wall? Slide down another fucking banister only to pop the railing off?”
“First of all, I slid down a banister once and learned my fucking lesson. Second of all, I don’t fuck up fireplaces and you know it, so stop being a little bitch about my stone-laying abilities. And this has nothing to do about work. It’s about Emma.”
I sit straight up, the hairs on the back of my neck rising to attention as nerves take up residence inside my stomach. “What about Emma? What’s wrong? Is she okay?”
Fuck, I should have called her. I should have been talking to her. What if something happened to her and I never found out? I would never forgive myself.
“She’s fine. I actually got a call from Adalyn today.”
“Adalyn? How does she have your number?”
“We exchanged numbers at the dinner party.” Christ. “She was worried about what’s going on between you two and concerned that Emma might do something irrational.”
“What are you talking about?” I start pacing the hotel room, unsure of what to do with this built-up tension.
“Adalyn said she’s thinking about moving to Boston for a job.”
What the hell?
“Boston?” I run my hand over my face. “Fuck. Fuck!”
“Dude, I thought you were going to fix things with her. Did that change? Adalyn said you haven’t talked to Emma in three weeks. What the fuck? Are you trying to lose her forever?”
“No. I was just trying to get my head straight. Figure my shit out before I went after her.”
“That’s great and all, but not talking to her at all is hurting you and her more than you realize. You have to do some major damage control. When are you supposed to come back?”
“Not for another two damn weeks.”
“Jesus, what the hell are they making you do out there?”
“Learn how to speak nicely to employees,” I deadpan, thinking about the idiotic classes I’ve taken so far. “How the hell am I supposed to do this when I’m so far away? Talking on the phone doesn’t seem like enough, it almost seems like a cop-out.”
“Yeah, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Nothing isn’t an option anymore, and the phone isn’t what she deserves. I need something more.”
Racer chuckles in the ph
one. “The determination in your voice is making my heart flutter with romance.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I mumble, still pacing the floor. How can I fix this? She can’t fucking run off to Boston and out of my life forever.
I think back to our earlier conversations, about how she based a man off their first kiss, how she had to be swept off her feet with one single press against the lips. Well, since I’m not there to do that, I’m going to have to think of other ways to sweep her off her feet.
“I’m going to need your help, man,” I say into the phone as ideas start to formulate in my mind.
“It’s going to cost you.”
I know he’s kidding. The dickhead would do anything for me, but I still ask, “How many boxes are we talking?”
“I’ve missed that curly-headed broad. I’m thinking ten boxes of Oatmeal Creme Pies, five Nutty Bars, five Zebra Cakes, and two Cosmic Brownies, because let’s not go too overboard.”
“Yeah, not too overboard,” I reply sarcastically. “Should I include a toothbrush for you to avoid cavities with all that sugar?”
“Might not be a bad idea. Get me some floss too. Gums need love too, Tucker. Gums need love too.”
I laugh, a little bit of tension easing out of my chest, but not much. “Thanks, dude.”
“So what do you have planned?” He’s serious now and I can just picture him, pen in hand ready to write down the plan.
“I need to put some things together. I’ll be sending you a package tomorrow. Call me when you get it, because I’m going to be very specific as to how we make this happen.”
“Sounds complicated. I might need ten boxes of Nutty Bars.”
“You’re lucky you’re going to get five; don’t push it, man.”
“Sorry, but who’s helping who here?” Racer teases.
“I have no problem asking Smalls . . .”
“No,” Racer yells into the phone. “I want to do it. I’m involved now, you can’t take that away from me.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Do me a favor, man, reach between your legs and check for your balls. They still there?”