“Are you all right?”
When he catches his breath, he looks at me in disbelief. “Did you seriously just ask me to tell you whether you should go out with Daniel Bailey?”
“You said you know him. Maybe you know him better than I do.”
When he stops coughing, his eyes find mine and lock for several seconds. “Scarlett, if you’re asking a guy that you know doesn’t play well with Daniel Bailey if you should go out with him, then you already know the answer to your question.”
Maybe. Maybe not. I really need to get to the root of what’s holding me back. Making me buy my own coffee and monopolizing the conversation can’t be it.
“How are you feeling today?” he asks.
“Huh?” My mind is still stuck on trying to figure out why I don’t want to go out with Daniel. “I’m good. Fine.”
“No muscle cramps or aches?” His gaze is on my face, evaluating my response. He watches me more than anyone I’ve ever known, and I’m surprised it doesn’t bother me more.
“Not too bad.”
“Do you want to work out tomorrow night?”
“Not tonight?”
He chuckles. “You liked it that much?”
I shake my head. “No. That’s not it. It’s just that it takes twenty-one days to form a habit, which means it takes twenty-one days of consistency. I figured that I need consistency.”
He leans his elbow on the table while a grin lights up his face. “While I appreciate your dedication, no. Give yourself a day off, let your muscles repair, and pick it up tomorrow. You need to ease into this, not rush it. So do you want to meet me tomorrow night?”
I nod. For some weird reason I do. I like hanging out with Tucker. But that’s not why we’re here, and we’re wasting valuable time I could spend making sure Tucker is ready for his test. “Get your textbook out, and we’ll go over a few things I know you struggled with.”
His eyes stay on me for several more seconds before he pulls his books out and spreads them out on the table. We spend the next half hour going over problems. I have Tucker tell me why he performed the steps he chose. At eleven-forty, Tucker shuts his textbook. “I’m ready.”
I smile. “I think you are.”
“Thanks.” His mouth tips up into the barest hint of a smile and his eyes are soft and warm.
There’s a flutter in my chest that catches my breath.
“What class do you have after this?”
What was that feeling about? “Uh, …Arabic.”
“You really speak Arabic?”
“Na’am. Lā atakallam `arabi.”
“And what did you say?”
“I don’t speak Arabic very well.”
He grins.
“Reading it is harder. Arabic doesn’t have the phonetic alphabet the romance languages have. I’m an auditory learner so the visual is hard, and I can’t connect the sounds to recognizable letters.”
“But I’m sure you are good at it. I suspect there’s not much you’re not good at when you set out to do something.”
I sink back in my chair, trying to figure Tucker out. Why does he pay so much attention to me? How is it he sees things no one else does?
Tucker packs his book in his bag. “I’ll see you at Panera tomorrow.”
“Good luck with your test.”
But he stays in his seat, watching me.
A blush creeps to my cheeks, although I’m not sure why. I’m used to Tucker looking at me by now. But this seems different.
He shakes his head and stands. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I watch him go and wonder what just happened.
Chapter Eleven
On Thursday, Tucker is late to our Western civ class. This is a common occurrence, and the professor barely notices. As Tucker takes his seat, he looks back at me and gives me a half wave and a smile. Several of the girls in the class, who spend more time paying attention to Southern’s star player instead of the lecture, turn to me with withering glares.
My face burns, and I ask myself why. Tucker and I are friends. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It doesn’t stop my blush, but my confidence builds a bit.
After class, I’m gathering my things when Tucker makes his way back to me, grinning.
Three girls have congregated at the door of the classroom, blatantly staring. I understand their curiosity and even their animosity. They are all much prettier and flashier than I am. They are obviously reading something into this that isn’t here.
“Good luck on your test this afternoon. Oh, wait.” I close my eyes, surprised I didn’t think of this sooner. “You probably won’t have a lesson today.”
The corners of his lips fall a bit. “Yeah.”
“Then there’s nothing to go over.” I’m surprised to feel disappointment washing over me in thick waves.
He watches me in silence. I can see he wants to say something, but he can’t make himself say what he’s thinking.
Why does it bother me so much that I won’t tutor him today? “So I guess we’ll get together after your class next Tuesday.”
“But we’re still on for tonight, right? At the fitness center?”
I smile. “Yeah, tonight. But if it takes twenty-one days to build a habit, will this be day two or day three?”
“Day two. Definitely day two.” Relief fills his eyes, adding to my confusion. Last week he said he didn’t have friends, which I considered a drunkard exaggeration at the time. But with someone like Tucker, maybe it’s hard to have real friends. The gawking girls make me believe that even more.
“Do you still want to meet at eight?”
“I’ll be there.” He walks with me out of class and pauses in the hall, oblivious to the girls who openly stare at us. “Where are you headed to now?”
“The math lab, but I hope to study for linear algebra class first.”
“There’s more than one algebra?” he asks in horror.
I laugh. “Fortunately for me there is.”
He shakes his head. We walk down the stairs to the exit and Tucker hesitates outside. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I grin. “See you tonight.”
He heads the opposite way as I start toward the math building. I’ve packed my lunch so I can study during my break before tutoring.
“He’ll just use you, too.”
My head jerks to the side. A girl is walking next to me, a sneer on her face, but pain fills her eyes. Against my better judgment, I stop. “Excuse me?”
“He’ll just fuck you and leave you. That’s what Tucker Price does.”
My chest squeezes, and I force out my response. “I’m not sure what you think—”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. Just trust me. I know from personal experience that Tucker Price doesn’t do relationships. He doesn’t stick around to snuggle the next morning.”
My pulse pounds in my head. “Why are you telling me this?”
She sighs and turns to watch Tucker walking away, then sweeps her long blonde hair over her shoulder. She’s pretty, much prettier than I am. “You look like a nice girl, not his usual type. Trust me when I say he’s way out of your league, sweetie. If you’re smart, and you seem smart, you’ll stay away from him.”
She turns and walks away, but my feet are still rooted to the sidewalk.
Everyone keeps telling me the same thing. But I’m not looking for a relationship with Tucker. We’re just friends, and I like it that way. I can be me around him and say what I want without blushing and feeling self-conscious. But I wonder if I’m deluding myself. Can there really be two sides to him?
I go to an empty classroom and can only partially concentrate on my work. I keep thinking about the girl and her warning. I feel nauseated and suddenly unsure if I want to meet Tucker tonight. It’s one thing to hear about all his exploits from Caroline and Tina secondhand, and another to come face to face with one. The despair in her eyes haunts me.
The afternoon in math lab drags by, and Caroline is studying when I get home. Sh
e sees my face, and her eyes widen.
“What happened?”
I want to tell her about the girl, but the first thing she’ll say is I told you so. I can’t deal with that right now. “Tutoring was awful, and I’ve got a headache.”
“So does that mean you’re not going to meet Tucker?”
For the first time, I understand Caroline’s fear and apprehension. I understand her worry for me. I could never be used like all those other girls and survive it. Caroline knows this.
“I don’t know yet.” I go to my room and shut the door, sitting on the bed. I need to put this in perspective. I’m not like those other girls. I’m not Tucker’s latest conquest. We’re friends. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I change into my workout clothes and slip on Caroline’s running shoes, which are tucked in my closet.
Caroline’s face puckers with disapproval as I go into the kitchen and heat up some leftover pasta.
“So you’re going?”
I nod and turn my back to her. I wish I could seek her advice, but I know what it will be. Shouldn’t that set alarm bells off in my head? That should be my indication that I shouldn’t do this.
Instead, I pick at my pasta and lift a forkful to my lips. “I like working out, Caroline. He’s going to work with me a couple of more times, and then I’m on my own. Maybe you can run with me then.”
She turns up her nose with disgust, at which suggestion I’m not sure. Probably both.
I leave the house even earlier than usual, needing time to prepare myself to meet him. But he’s early too, even though I’m here at seven forty-five. He’s looking the opposite direction when I enter the lobby of the fitness center. When he hears the door open, he turns to me and a smile lights up his face. I can’t correlate this Tucker to the one everyone tells me about. I know they are the same. I just can’t piece them together.
I know I should be leery. Tucker Price has broken many hearts, and not just here on Southern University’s campus. I can’t imagine how many he destroyed back in high school. But I think about all the things people said and believed about me back in Shelbyville. I wished someone had given me the benefit of the doubt. Stupid or not, I choose to have faith in the Tucker I see before me now until he gives me proof that I shouldn’t.
“You’re early,” he says, then laughs. “Well, earlier than usual.”
I shrug. “A nasty habit I can’t seem to break. What’s your excuse? I don’t think you’ve ever been on time to Western civ.”
“Maybe I just need a good excuse to be early.”
A shy smile creeps onto my face.
“Are you ready?”
I nod and we go into the gym. Tucker has brought water again and hands me one after I take off my coat and toss it next to his bag. I take a drink and put down the bottle. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
We begin walking in silence, but it’s a comfortable stillness. We make one full loop before Tucker speaks. “One more lap and then we’ll start to run again. I’m going to push you harder tonight.”
I smile. “Okay.”
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Right about what?”
“That you like the challenge of controlling yourself and your body.”
I snort. “You make me sound like a control freak.”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it that way. Trust me. I understand the need to control a situation.”
I turn to look at him. “Is that what you do with your out-of-control behavior? That seems the opposite.”
His jaw drops.
I hold up my hands. “I’m sorry. I have no idea where that came from.” I do, but I can’t believe I actually verbalized it.
“No. You’re right. What I do seems to be the opposite.”
“Seems to be?”
He doesn’t say anything for several seconds.
I grimace. “Tucker, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” What happened to giving him the benefit of the doubt? I think I still do, but there’s no denying that he leads a wild life. I’ve seen proof of it myself.
“There’s more than one way to control things, Scarlett.”
I nod, sucking in my top lip.
“There’s a lot most people don’t know about me.”
“Me, too.” No one here knows about my past except for Caroline. Any of it. It’s like I dropped out of the sky onto the Southern campus with no prior life whatsoever. But I don’t have people watching me all the time either. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t be sorry. Just be my friend.” There’s a sadness in his voice that breaks something inside me.
I reach for his hand and squeeze. “You already know I am.”
His smile is tight and he squeezes back then drops it. “You ready to run?”
My answer is to break into a jog.
He laughs and moves in front of me, running backward and wearing a giant grin.
“Now you’re just showing off.”
Smirking, he holds his hands out to his sides. “It’s what I do best.”
I shake my head.
He corrects my posture, then turns around and runs beside me. “We’ll do a couple of quarter-track stints, then pick it up to more half loops.”
I nod, already feeling a burn in my legs.
Tucker is remarkably lighthearted after our brief delve into a serious conversation. Maybe he’s relieved I’m still here. I know I like knowing he wants to be my friend.
On our second turn around the track, Tucker says, “Talk to me, Scarlett.”
I shake my head and shoot him a you’ve got to be kidding me look. He was right about pushing me harder. Not only are we running longer stretches, but he’s picked up the pace. He, on the other hand, is barely out of breath.
“How about we play a game?”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. You make it all the way around the track running, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
His offer is tempting, but I’m not sure I really want the answers to some of my questions. I’m worried I won’t like the answers.
“And if I don’t?”
“I get to ask you anything I want, and you have to answer.” His grin is mischievous. He knows what he’s doing. He knows I like a challenge.
I’m out of breath and my calves are more sore than they were two nights ago, but I think I can do this. “Deal.”
“But you still have to talk to me now.”
“Screw you.”
He laughs. “Why, Scarlett Goodwin. That was very unladylike of you.”
“Who says I’m ladylike?”
“You, my darlin’, are the epitome of ladylike behavior.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”
“Maybe I’d like to change that.”
He confuses me. One minute we’re bantering with friendly chatter and the next he’s flirting. Maybe he doesn’t mean to do it. It could be as automatic as breathing for him. I know that Tina is a shameless flirt, and I don’t think she realizes that she does it half the time. It’s probably like that for Tucker, too.
I shoot him a teasing glare. “Too bad I’ll win.”
He winks. “Maybe we should pick up the pace.”
“That’s cheating!”
“Nope. I don’t think so.”
I’m struggling to talk, let alone sprint. “You go ahead and run faster if you like. I’m running at a good pace—a brisk jog, I might add—and I’ll meet you at the finish line.”
“I’m not going anywhere without you.” He nudges his arm into mine.
We’re halfway around the track, and I’m not sure I can maintain this pace and finish.
“Pick a spot just a short distance ahead.” Tucker’s voice lowers into a serious tone. “See that bench twenty feet ahead? Tell yourself you can make it to there. Count the steps if you have to.”
I count my exhales as they leave my body. Inhale deep, exhale. One. Inhale, exhale. Two. Just ten more feet.
&
nbsp; “Don’t stop when you get to the bench. Keep going.”
“Okay.” My voice is barely audible, carried on exhale number eight.
“Good.” Tucker says when we reach the bench. “Now see that bag next to the track? The red one. Aim for that. Don’t slow down. Push yourself. You can do it.”
Within ten seconds, we’re there. A quarter of the track left and there’s a pain in my side.
“Don’t slow down, Scarlett. I’m going to ask you the most embarrassing question possible. You’ll turn bright red and have to breathe into a paper bag to answer.”
“Asshole.”
Tucker laughs. “I’m kind of liking this unladylike side of you.” He’s winded but not nearly as much as I am. “Pick a new spot and tell me what it is.”
“The pole,” I gasp.
He watches my face. “Are you counting?”
I nod.
“Talk to me, Scarlett.”
“Yes.”
We reach the pole and the finish line is in sight, the white line painted across the track.
“I want you to run to that line,” Tucker says. “I’ll give you ten seconds and for every second you shave off, you get an extra question.”
I turn to him in amazement. Why is he doing this?
His eyebrows lift. “Go.”
I push off my back leg and concentrate on stretching my front leg out as far as possible, counting my steps.
I have no idea how many seconds it’s taken me to make it to the line, but I know I haven’t pushed myself this hard physically in years. My pace slows down.
“Don’t stop.” Tucker is beside me, his voice encouraging. “You can bring it to a slow jog, but don’t stop.”
I’m dying, but I try to keep going.
“How did that feel?”
“Exhausting.”
“You’re a natural, Scarlett.”
“Are you sure?” I feel like anything but a natural. I also feel like I’m about to drop dead.
“You can slow down to a walk now.”
My breath is coming in heavy gasps.
“You didn’t ask me how many seconds it took you.”
I’m afraid to find out. “How many?”
“Eight, which is quite impressive. I didn’t think you’d get there in less than twelve.”
“You didn’t think I’d shave any seconds off your ten?”
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