“What version of my brother do you get?”
Not expecting that question.
“The sweet one. The caring one. The attentive one.”
“I have to be honest; he can be all those things. Occasionally. And by occasionally, I mean hardly ever. Tanner is all about doing things that make him happy. He’s all about whatever is going to help him out in the end, what’s in it for him,” Tucker tells me. He swallows down the last of the fries and takes a big drink of water. “I’m not trying to rag on my brother, Maura, but I think you know that. It’s not my style. I’m only being honest with you.”
My shoulders slump in defeat because that’s what I was afraid of. At first, Tanner seemed exactly as I described him: arrogant, self-assured, but full of misrepresentation by everyone else around him. Now, he seems…fake. It pains me to admit it, too, because I didn’t want Tanner to be fake. I wanted Tanner to be real. But now I think I built him up to be that way in my head. I think I may have made him that way to make myself feel better. I knew deep down I had started seeing him because I knew he was someone my parents would love.
I guess I didn’t know then that would be because they’re so alike.
“Not what you wanted to hear, huh?” he says. I must admit that I’m shocked by the sympathy I hear in his voice.
“Not really. I wanted you to tell me to stick with it and that he’s a good guy deep down. But I think I knew the real answer all along. I shouldn’t have to guess what version of a person I’m getting anyway.”
I know Tanner isn’t a bad person, he’s just not my person.
Glancing up at Tucker, I jerk back at the look he’s giving me. There’s heat in it, maybe a small hint of desire. I involuntarily shiver from the intensity. It’s a look he shouldn’t be giving me, and one I shouldn’t be enjoying so much.
Suddenly thirsty, I take a sip of my soda as he says, “I show you the real me, Maura.”
I swallow loudly and lower my glass with shaky hands, holding his gaze.
“I know you do, Tucker. I know you do.”
“I cannot believe you ditched your dress fitting and you bought a new dress to wear. Someone is getting brave,” Kassi says from her relaxed position on my bed. She has a rare day off and refuses to spend it at my parents’ dinner. Can’t say I blame her.
Chuckling, I finish putting the back on my earring and smooth my hands down my dress. Taking a step back, I peek at myself in the floor-length mirror. After Tucker’s little dress talk, I decided that he was spot on. I shouldn’t have to wear something my parents pick out for me. I should be able to get my own dress to wear. So I did, and I could not be happier about my choice. The morning after lunch with Tuck last week, I went straight to Jane’s and exchanged inventory help hours for her finding me the perfect dress. Let me just say, Jane is a godsend! She found me an empire-waist, floor-length champagne chiffon gown that fits me like a freaking glove. There’s a sheer beaded mesh along the upper half of the dress with a design that’s intricate and classy. The back is my favorite part, because it’s a keyhole design, leaving the dress to be sexy and alluring. I happened to have a pair of shoes that match it. My short blonde hair is elegantly styled to one side, the pink tips slightly concealed so my mother doesn’t have too big of a heart attack. The look is completed with smoky eyes and simple jewelry.
Who’s the designer? No clue, and I don’t care to know. My mother is the one who’s all about labels, not me.
“You ready for this thing with the stud? Your parents are gonna flip. Not only is he tattooed, a mechanic, a musician, and sinfully sexy, he’s not Tanner. Your boyfriend. That’s gonna cause an uproar all on its own, you know,” Kassi tells me.
She’s right; it will cause a hassle with my parents. My dad probably won’t give a crap since he doesn’t pay any attention to me anyway, but my mother is bound to flip her lid—in private, of course. I can see it now: she’ll give a tight-lipped smile, a kiss on the cheek for show, and whisper in my ear about what a disgrace I am. Can’t wait.
And then there’s the matter of going with Tucker. I told Tanner last night that I was still going to the dinner, but I didn’t tell him who I was going with. I didn’t see the huge deal in telling him since the reason we’re going together is because Tanner bailed. I would say that I feel guilty for not telling him because he’s been apologizing constantly for not being able to make it, but that would be kind of a lie. How am I supposed to know if he means it? How am I supposed to know how genuine he is about everything? It’s horrible that I’m now questioning everything he says or does, but I can’t help it. I feel like I don’t know him at all now.
Get through the dinner tonight and then worry about Tanner.
Pushing aside my thoughts, I check myself in the mirror one last time. Happy with how I look, I spin around, the dress swishing at my feet. “Well?”
Kassi’s eyes go wide, and tears start to form. “A vision,” she says happily. “You look absolutely incredible, Maurie. You always do.”
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
Kassi is about to speak, but as she opens her mouth, the doorbell rings and I freeze up.
“He’s heeeeere!” she squeaks. “Want me to go get that?”
I nod my head, unable to speak.
“Breathe, girlie. Breathe.” Apparently I haven’t been doing that either.
I follow Kassi out of my bedroom and down the narrow hallway to the living room. I wait in there as she rounds the corner to the small entryway and opens the door.
“Hey you! You’re lucky I love Maura and have this creepy outlook toward dating dudes who are younger than me, because, damn, you are handsome as hell!”
I hear Tucker give a small laugh and say, “Thank you, Kassi. Don’t let her boyfriend hear you say that.”
The mention of Tanner can’t stop the goosebumps that form when I set my eyes on Tucker in a simple black tux that hugs his muscles in the best way. The air whooshes out of my lungs, and my knees wobble. He’s absolutely dazzling. And then he smiles, and it’s like a damn beacon because I automatically start walking toward him.
“Stop,” he says, holding his hand up. “I want to admire you a moment.”
And he does. My God, he does. Tucker’s stare on me feels divine. The glimmer in his eyes is captivating and full of want. Nobody has ever looked at me the way he’s looking at me now, and I’ve never felt more beautiful in my life.
He lifts a finger and twirls it in the air, signaling me to spin around. A part of me doesn’t want to and wants to surprise him with the back, but I know he’ll never allow us to leave without me showing him, because Tucker is stubborn like that. So I turn slowly and unsteadily, my eyes locked on his. When I’m fully facing away from him, I hear a sharp inhale and the heavy thumps of his feet approaching me. Next I feel his body heat and warm breath on my neck.
“I hate that we’re just friends,” he says in a hushed tone, his lips brushing lightly against my body.
I gulp loudly and step away from him. We’ve been crossing too many lines lately, and I’m not about to add another to the list, but I want nothing more than to spin around, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him until I can’t breathe anymore.
“We should get going,” I tell him, my voice still thick.
Creating a wide berth, I walk around him, going straight for the hallway to grab my clutch and light cardigan in case it gets chilly.
Kassi meets me there before Tucker does.
“Wow. That was…,” she starts.
“I know,” I cut her off.
She frowns. “Is it always like that?”
I shake my head. “No, not always. We seem to have these moments when it’s difficult.”
Kassi steps forward and speaks low. “You sure it’s a good idea to go with him?”
Do I? I don’t know if it’s the best decision I’ve ever made, but after the way he looked at me, there’s no way I’m backing out now. Besides, I know where the line is, and I’m not crossing it.
“It
’ll be fine. Promise.”
She accepts my answer and steps back as Tucker joins us in the small space.
“Ready?” He offers an arm.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Tucker insists on opening my door for me at the valet station, earning him strange looks from my mother’s hired help.
“Damn,” he whistles. “This place is kinda insane.”
“That’s putting it lightly.”
I peer up at the massive house I grew up in. It’s basically an eleven-bedroom mini-mansion complete with a half-circle driveway and fountain. Not to mention the sprawling, precisely manicured lawn and in-ground pool. You’d think that growing up in a house this gigantic would be luxurious and every person’s dream, but not mine. This house is cold and lonely and mean. It holds nothing but sad memories for me, which is why I try to avoid it as much as possible.
“Good?” Tucker says in my ear.
“Sure,” I tell him grimly.
He reaches down and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, and I suddenly feel better about the walk we’re taking up the stairs into my own personal hell.
The second I see her, all hope of having a semi-decent evening vanishes. From the outside, no one would be able to tell how pissed off my mother is. No one else could see the shadows in her eyes or the disappointment in her rigid spine. To everyone else in the packed room, she’d appear happy and regal. But to me she looks threatening.
I watch as she makes her way over to us, eyeing Tucker with intensity and hatred. Comical because she doesn’t know the man and frustrating because I know she’ll never try to. Guess it’s a good thing she can’t see any of his tattoos.
“Maura,” she says stiffly, leaning in for her infamous cheek kiss. I cringe when I feel her mouth hover near my ear. “We’ll be discussing your hideous attire and date later.” Every word she speaks is dripping with disgust.
I step back from her and use all the restraint I have not to glare at her, because no one would dare glare at Norah.
“It’s so good to see you, dear.” And just like that, she’s back into “perfect mother” mode, playing it up for all to see. “Who’s your…friend?”
Tucker places a reassuring hand on my lower back, heating up my skin with his gentle touch. His action tells me he doesn’t trust her and sees through everything she’s saying. “Tucker Bentley, Ms. Doughers. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. Maura’s told me all about you,” he says without a hint of sarcasm or distaste in his voice.
My mother doesn’t know it, but Tucker just lied through his teeth. It’s not a pleasure to meet my mother. He knows exactly how mean she can be.
“Bentley? You’re related to Tanner, then?” she questions.
“Yes, I’m his younger brother.”
My mother’s eyebrows raise just a fraction, and she purses her lips, giving me look full of repulsion. “You’re escorting your brother’s girlfriend to our event this evening, Mr. Bentley? How…kind of you.”
Translation: My daughter is whore and it’s all your fault.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And what is it you do for a living?” Typical Norah, only caring about someone’s social status.
“Mother!” I seethe.
She shoots me a look that has me folding into myself and stepping closer to Tucker. He pulls me into him, giving me the support I so desperately need.
“I’m a mechanic, ma’am. I work with my hands for a living and write music in my spare time. I occasionally tend bar too. I find my work to be very satisfying.”
My mother’s back stiffens, and I fight a laugh at Tucker’s blatant dare for her to speak ill of either of them.
“Isn’t that lovely,” she says in her usual condescending tone.
“Very,” Tucker replies with over-the-top enthusiasm to drive the point home that no matter what she says, it’s not going to bother him.
Her gaze narrows in his direction. “Maura, a word.”
I gaze up at Tucker with wide eyes. He dips his head in an almost imperceptible movement to tell me he’ll wait here with a watchful eye.
My mother leads me to a quiet corner. As soon as we have a small semblance of privacy, all gloves come off and the bitch I know comes out.
“What exactly is it that you think you’re doing, young lady? You come in not only not dressed in the designer gown I picked out for you but instead in this…frock, but you also come with him?”
The revulsion is so apparent in her voice. I start to retreat further into myself, letting the familiar shame wash over me, when I feel Tucker’s eyes on me. Just knowing that he’s there and watching helps me gain courage.
“Mother, you don’t—” I begin.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she interrupts. “You do not get to try to explain your way out of this mess. Do you have any idea how that makes us appear? Like we’re sliding way down the social ladder and letting our whore daughter bang everyone on the way down! You’re a disgrace to this family, and I’m utterly ashamed to call you my daughter. You’re not welcome to our next charity dinner until you can learn to behave with manners and respect me. Now, go out there, smile, and do not embarrass me any further.”
I stand there stunned, my jaw hanging wide open as she straightens her back, spins on a too-expensive heel, and marches away into the crowd. Tears begin to form in my eyes and threaten to fall when Tucker strides over to my side, instantly wrapping me up into his arms.
“That hurt to watch,” he says as he cradles my head to his chest.
“It hurt to hear,” I tell him on a strangled whisper. “She called me a whore and said she was ashamed to call me her daughter.”
He squeezes me tighter, telling me sorry without saying it. Slowly pulling away, he cups my face between his hands and tilts my chin up so that we’re gazing at one another.
“Maura, you’re so strong and beautiful and brilliant. Don’t you dare listen to a word she says. You got it?”
“Got it.”
“You wanna go dance?”
Before I can answer, he’s pulling me onto the dance floor because the house is enormous enough to have a small ballroom. Tucker makes a show of it, bowing to me as if I were Cinderella or some shit. I laugh a little too loudly at his display because I know he’s doing it to piss off my mother, who he knows is watching me like a hawk.
Tucker catches me off guard, drawing me up close to him mid laugh and causing my breath to catch in my throat. I look up into his gaze, seeing that any hint of playfulness is gone and replaced by unfiltered desire.
“I love it when you do that. Your laugh is so hypnotizing,” he says in a gravelly voice.
We continue our formal, friendly dance around the small, hardly occupied dance floor. We’re lost in our own world, escaping in the comfort we find together and hiding from everything else.
“Where do you bartend at?” I ask to distract myself and because I’m insanely curious.
“Mic’s, but I don’t do it that often. Only when Gary needs me.”
“I had no idea.”
He shrugs. “It’s not a huge deal. He lets me play there whenever I want and helps fend off the suits for me, so I do what I can to give back to him.”
“Gary’s a good guy, huh?”
“The best.”
I can tell by his tone that he respects the owner of Mic’s and truly appreciates everything he does for him. Knowing that he takes none of it for granted, like I know most people would do, makes me like him that much more.
With our eyes locked on each other, I say, “Thank you for tonight, Tucker. Thanks for coming and letting me lean on you.
“Anytime. I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
I take his words, fold them up, and place them deep inside my heart for later. Because those nine words mean more to me than he’ll ever know, and I have a feeling I’ll be pulling them out again in the future.
The song comes to an end, but we don’t break apart. This continues through two more songs until Tucker
abruptly stops. I follow suit, and then we’re standing there, staring at one another in that way we shouldn’t be.
Almost out of left field, Tucker dips his head, and I know where he’s aiming. My lips. I want so badly to reach up and meet his kiss, but that would be crossing lines I don’t want to cross.
Although I don’t want to cross lines, I don’t turn my head or duck out of the way. Instead I’m frozen there, watching as it all happens in slow motion.
Tucker moving closer to my waiting lips at an agonizingly slow place, causing my heart to work overtime.
The fire of pure want that keeps dancing in his gaze, as they flick between my doe-like eyes and parted lips.
Our harsh breaths mingling and our chests rapidly moving as he draws closer and closer and closer.
But then, at the very last possible second, when I feel his lips ghost against mine, he steers right and kisses my cheek lightly.
I close my eyes on a sigh, and we fall back into our dance, Tucker pulling me closer than before.
“I’m sorry,” he says in a quiet voice.
I squeeze my eyes closed and wish away the new tears that are threatening to form. He’s saying sorry for almost kissing me, for my mom, for wanting me the way he wants me. And for all the things he’s done to make this harder on me.
As much as I should apologize too, I don’t. Because I know that if I open my mouth, a sob will come out, further embarrassing my mother and putting me higher on her shit-list.
I should apologize for almost letting him kiss me, for my mom’s bitch-tude toward him, for wanting him and letting him want me although we both know nothing can ever come of it. All of it. But I don’t because I’m selfish and possibly stupid.
The song comes to an end, and we pull apart. “Restroom,” I squeak out, rushing off in search of a moment to myself. I hear him call my name, but I’m too focused on running up the stairs to get to the nearest balcony for air. Stepping up to the railing, I automatically regret not stopping to grab my jacket, because it’s starting to get chilly. I wrap my arms myself and stare off into the night.
The scene in front of me was always my favorite thing about growing up here. In the middle of our backyard was a massive, old tree. The tree was dead, but it was still beautiful. Actually, I think that was part of its charm. I won’t think about how similar it is to Tucker’s tattoo, because that would lead to all thoughts concerning Tucker, and he’s exactly what I’m trying to escape.
Here's to Yesterday Page 12