Teaching Tucker (Face-Off Legacy Book 3)

by Jillian Quinn

  I wait an extra minute after for Tucker to enter the room. He still hasn’t shown for class.

  What is he doing? I can’t believe he’s going to ruin the B he’s earned. How can he be this stupid?

  Gripping the podium, Professor Frazier turns to look at me. “Are you forgetting something?”

  I consider his question for a second and then realize he means I haven’t locked the door. He’s such a stickler when it comes to lateness. Tucker’s already broken the rule once. I will have to take points off his grade for missing class, which will only make him hate me more.

  I rush up the aisle, ready to latch the door when someone tugs from the other side. The sheer force of their power knocks me back a few steps—it’s Tucker. His spiky blond hair is a mess, sticking up from sleep. He never looks this disheveled. Even his clothes are wrinkled as if he slept in them.

  Our eyes meet for a split second. There’s so much pain and anger behind his watery blue irises. I contemplate allowing him into the room. He knows the drill. His eyes beg me, breaking my willpower down, but Professor Frazier isn’t having it.

  “Shut the door, Samantha,” he booms from the front of the room. “No exceptions.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Come by the office later, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s okay. I don’t want any special favors from you.”

  The way he says you makes my skin crawl. There’s so much disdain in his tone I can’t believe this is the man who’d told me he loved me last week.

  I sit through class, going through the motions, unable to function properly. My heart aches with regret. Tucker looked even angrier than when he first found out. Our time apart hasn’t thawed him one bit.

  I missed his last big hockey game. From what I read online, Tucker and his team are about to play in the Frozen Four Semifinals. New York is close enough that I can take the train to watch him play. Our current situation calls for a grand gesture. I don’t know any other way to show him I care and that I’m sorry.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Tucker

  Preston is not only off the team but out of the league. After getting into an on-ice fight with Bex’s ex-boyfriend, Preston ruined his shot. Right before the Frozen Four, of all times. My luck has been shit all year. First, I find out the girl I love never gave a shit about me. And now, we’re down a man for the semifinals.

  The team needs Preston. He’s the glue that holds us together. Our mojo is off without him. Everyone on my line feels it too. But we got this.

  I’m up against the boards fighting for possession of the puck when a winger blocks my exit, sandwiching me against the Plexiglas. But with my puck-handling skills, I don’t need luck. I’m scrappy enough to create some space between me and the player on my right. Just enough time to tap the puck to Trent.

  My brother sets off down the ice with the rest of us trailing behind, his only opposition the defenseman crossing his path. Trent switches from his dominant side, sweeping the puck to his left. And as he approaches the net, he swings it back to his right, the puck slipping right past the goaltender.

  We did it.

  Our team is advancing to the Frozen Four Finals.

  My heart races, my pulse pounding loudly in my ears from the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. The goal horn is like a dull hum as it blares through the packed rink. Everything around me becomes one giant blur.

  Our teammates rush over to Trent and me, pulling us into a group hug. I knew we could do it. After losing Preston, I wasn’t so sure we could pull this off. But we did. Somehow, we managed to put this setback aside and win as a team.

  We smack the gloves of our opponents, and afterward, I look into the crowd for Preston. He’s too busy high-fiving Bex to notice me. But what surprises me the most is seeing Sam sitting on the bench next to Jemma.

  What is she doing here?

  Her eyes pin me in place. Part of me hates her. But all of me loves her. I’m so conflicted by my feelings for Sam.

  What she did to me can’t be undone. I haven’t told my friends because they would kill her for selling information to The Queen. I want to understand her situation, though. I know she works hard to barely make ends meet, but it’s so hard to ignore the facts. She sold me out for money. It hurts like fucking hell every time I think about what she did to me.

  Sam raises her hand and mouths something I can’t make out. She’s beautiful, her skin free of makeup, a bright smile on her face. I’ve missed her so fucking much. Except the pain of her betrayal keeps me from feeling anything other than anger.

  I hold up my gloved hand, torn between my love and hate for her.

  Does she deserve a second chance?

  I never gave her the opportunity to fully explain the situation to me.

  Maybe I should hear her out.

  On Monday after class, I wait for Sam’s office hours to open before I stop by to see her. I stand in the entryway and knock on the door.

  Startled, she jumps, clutching her chest. “Tucker,” she breathes. “You scared me. I wasn’t expecting anyone for another hour.”

  “I know. I checked your calendar online.”

  She sinks into the leather chair holding out her hand for me to sit on the other side of the desk. “I definitely wasn’t expecting you. But I’m glad you’re here.”

  I get comfortable in the chair and drop my bag on the floor at my feet. “Thanks for coming this weekend.”

  “Of course.” She smiles. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything in the world. I really am sorry, Tucker.”

  “I know.” I sigh. “I’m trying so hard to forgive you. I love you, Sam. I want this to work, but we can’t have any more secrets between us.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  Sam leans forward, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. “Where do I start?”

  “From the beginning.”

  “Okay.” She blows out a puff of air. “The Queen approached me at the beginning of the year. She said she needed information on the men’s ice hockey team, and that she would pay me enough to make it worth my while. And she did. Working for her made my tuition fees a little more bearable.”

  “You could have taken student loans,” I growl.

  “I have loans. I even have a partial scholarship. Strick U is expensive. Most people can’t afford to come here without some assistance. My loans and scholarship only cover so much. You know my dad is a mess.” I nod, and she continues, “He makes good money on paper. No one cares that he spends it at the bar or casino. Because of his income, I don’t qualify for grants. At least my loans are deferred until after graduation, so that helps. I work at Broad Street Beans, as a tutor, and now a TA. Between the three jobs, I still didn’t have enough money. The Queen offered to pay off the balance that’s due every semester. I was going to look for another job after the school raised the tuition again, and when she offered to pay the remainder for a few bits of info, I didn’t think anything of it. I still hated you for tossing me aside like a piece of trash. In my mind, it was the best way to get my revenge. I still wasn’t over what you did to me. It didn’t matter that it was years later, the old wounds were still there.”

  “I want to understand,” I confess. “I want to forgive you, Sam. I get that your life is harder than most. It’s a lot harder than mine. I won’t pretend that I know what you’re going through or that I get what it’s like to want something and not be able to afford it. But your reality doesn’t make mine hurt any less.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me,” she counters. “I don’t want your pity.”

  “I don’t pity you. I never did.”

  It’s the truth.

  “I wish I could take it all back.” She blinks a few times. Her eyes are glassy under the lights. “If I could change the past, I would. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, Tucker. I never knew it could hurt this bad to live without someone. Of all the things I’v
e gone through over the years, I haven’t felt this kind of pain since my mom died.” Her voice cracks at the mention of her mom. She never talks much about her parents. “I want it to stop. I need it to stop. Take away my pain, Tuck. Please. I’m sorry. I love you. Forgive me.”

  Compelled to be close to her, I jump out of the chair, and she stands, reaching out to touch me. I slip my fingers between hers and pull her into a hug. Her skin is so soft and warm against mine. She smells of citrus body wash, and I drink in her delicious scent.

  Sam presses her face to my chest and bawls her eyes out, her sobs shaking through me. I hold her head as she cries waiting for her to get it all out before wiping the last tear from her cheek.

  “I love you, Sam. I don’t want to be without you either. So, how do we fix this? We need to get that bitch out of our lives.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. She doesn’t use names. I communicate with her in person every month and via e-mail.”

  “Okay, give me her e-mail. We can start with that. Maybe Jamie can figure out who she is. He’s been looking for months without any leads. It’s been driving him crazy.”

  Sam lifts her cell phone from the desk, flips through her e-mails, and then scribbles the address onto a piece of paper for me. I shove it in my pocket, hoping her e-mail address holds the key to finding her.

  “When are you meeting her again?”

  She pushes her hands to her hips and sighs. “I’m not. She said, and I quote, ‘my services are no longer needed.’”

  “Maybe she knows.”

  Sam bites her bottom lip, thinking it over. “Maybe. I wouldn’t be surprised. Most of the information she shared on her blog didn’t come from me. I had no idea you were with Jemma or that Trent got her pregnant. She found that out on her own.”

  “The pot brownies were all you, though.” I wink at her. “Thanks for that.”

  She frowns. “Were they really pot brownies? I was just guessing.”

  I nod. “Yeah. I was so hammered I didn’t even remember eating them.”

  “You think Jamie can find her with just an e-mail address?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Is Jamie like a hacker or something?”

  I smirk. “Or something.”

  She chuckles, running her fingers down my arm. “I hope he takes her down. Someone has to stop her.”

  “You might go down with her,” I admit.

  Sam presses her lips together tightly. “I know. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take to get you and your friends some justice.”

  I bend down to kiss her, but she places both of her hands on my chest to push me away. “Not in the office. With the door open.”

  I glance over at the door that’s open a crack and see her point. “Meet me at my house after you’re done work. I’m taking you to dinner.”

  “Dolce?”

  I nod. “Yep, I owe you a makeup date.”

  She smiles and then steers me toward the door. “I’ll see you later. Now, go before my next appointment shows up.”

  I return her smile, disappearing as fast as I came, feeling better about my future with Sam.

  Chapter Thirty

  Tucker

  The hostess shows us to our table in the far corner at Dolce, leaving us with a menu and a smile. Sam slides into the circular booth next to me. She’s wearing a short skirt, her toned thigh brushing against my hand. Of course, I need to touch her. I glide my hand up her thigh, and her skin pricks with tiny bumps.

  “Tucker, there are people over there.” She tips her head in the direction of the couple across the balcony from us.

  From this vantage point, no one can see my hand beneath her skirt. After being apart for a week, I missed every part of her. But she’s right, I need to behave.

  Removing my hand from her leg, I slide it across the back of her neck. “Better?”

  “Yes.” She smiles. “You can play with me later.”

  The balcony overlooks the expanse of the Italian restaurant. Reserved for high-end customers and large parties, this part of the restaurant is less crowded by design. Sam leans forward, placing her hands on the table to take a peek at the wine bar below us where couples drink as they wait to be seated.

  The restaurant is dimly lit. All of the tables are decorated with the same candles, the overhead lighting turned down to set the mood.

  “My parents love this place,” I say. “They come here all the time.”

  “What’s good?”

  “Everything. My personal favorite is the chicken cacciatore. Do you like spicy food? I feel like I should know that.”

  Sam smiles. “Yeah, I love spicy foods. My mom used to make tacos with tons of jalapeños when I was younger. I remember my tongue burning for an hour after the first time I ate them.”

  “You never talk about your mom,” I say.

  She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and turns her head away for a second before meeting my gaze. “I don’t like to dwell on the past.”

  “But it’s your mom. I couldn’t imagine not having my mom around. You must miss her.”

  “I was so young when she died. It’s hard to explain, but the longer she’s gone, the more I forget the little things. But every once in a while a specific memory comes to me, or I’ll smell her perfume and remember what it felt like when she would tuck me in for bed. It doesn’t happen that often, though. All the bad memories of my dad have somehow replaced all of her good.”

  I feel awful. What do I even say?

  Our waitress approaches the table with her hands behind her back, breaking up our conversation. Sam looks relieved. I am too. I order the chicken for both of us, the meals served family style at this restaurant.

  A few minutes later, the waitress returns with our salads. She refills Sam’s wine glass and sets a beer in front of me, and then she leaves us to eat in peace.

  Sam lifts the salad fork from the table, clutching it in her hand. “Do you think Jamie will find The Queen?”

  “I gave him the e-mail address. He said he would give it a shot.”

  “I’m so afraid she will out me if Jamie finds her. She’ll know it was me. Your friends like me now, but they won’t once they know the truth.”

  “If it comes to that, I will talk to them. I’ll make them see you didn’t have a choice.”

  “But I did have one…” her eyes glisten, “… there’s always a choice.”

  I shove a forkful of lettuce into my mouth, speaking between bites. “No matter how this turns out, we’ll figure it out together.”

  She cups my knee with her hand as she eats her salad. Just feeling her fingers through my pants creates a deep need inside me. My insides warm from her touch, and heat dances along my skin. I never thought I could feel this way about a woman.

  “You think I’ll pass the class?”

  She nods with her mouth full of food. “Showing up late didn’t help you, but you did so well on your last assignment that it all balances out. You should end up with a B-, maybe a B if you don’t slip too much.” Sam sets her fork at the edge of her plate and looks over at me. “You know, I’m really proud of you, Tuck. In the beginning, you wanted me to hand you a grade, but you put the work into the class. You deserve the grade you’ve earned.”

  I wink. “That’s because I have a good teacher.”

  “All I did was keep you on track and made you accountable. You did the rest of the work on your own.”

  “Don’t let Preston know,” I joke. “Then he won’t have anything to nag at me about.”

  “You should never downplay your accomplishments. You should be proud of the progress you’ve made this semester.”

  “My greatest achievement is scoring you.” I press my lips to hers, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth.

  “Such a sweet talker,” she breathes.

  “You know it, baby.”

  I’m under the covers with Sam sliding my fingers into her soaking wet pussy when Jamie busts through the door. He stands in the entrance
to my bedroom. His hair looks as if he’s been pulling at it.

  “Ever heard of knocking?” I shout.

  Sam pushes my hand away, pulling the covers up to her chin.

  Jamie enters the dark room and thankfully doesn’t turn on the lights because Sam and I are both naked. Not like I care about me. Everyone in the house has seen my bare ass hundreds of times.

  “I did it.” He looks like a lunatic, his eyes bugging out.

  “We’re kind of in the middle of something here. What is your deal?”

  “I found her.”

  Sam and I sit up at the same time, our focus on Jamie. He sits at the edge of the bed, strumming his fingers on his knee.

  “I didn’t get a name, but I got an address. It’s owned by a holding company.”

  “I don’t get it. A company owns the blog?”

  Jamie shrugs. “I’m not sure yet. I have to check it out.”

  “You need to get some sleep first. Dude, you look like shit. And maybe get a shower, too.” I wave my hand at the space between us. “You don’t smell so hot either.”

  He laughs. “I’ve been working on this all day and night. I didn’t exactly have time for a shower.” Jamie leans forward tugging at the ends of his hair as he rests his elbows on his thighs. “I finally found her.”

  “What’s your deal with this girl?”

  “I know her code. It’s beautiful. She’s a real architect. It feels familiar but at the same time brand new.”

  “That stuff is over my head,” I admit.

  “It’s like being an artist and appreciating the painter for each swipe of their brush. She’s a genius.”

  “Sounds like you’re in love with her.”

  “For all I know, she’s a man hiding behind a screen name.”

  “She’s a woman,” Sam says, now realizing she made a mistake. “Or so I heard.”