We follow Darcy down a small hill toward the main apartments, and I fall back to pull out my phone, finding a way to drive Maura even crazier in about twenty minutes.
Maura lets out an excited squeal when Darcy invites us inside the empty apartment. It only takes her five seconds to decide this is the place she wants.
“It’s perfect!” she declares. “Absolutely perfect! Does it come furnished?”
“Not typically,” Darcy answers. When Maura’s shoulders slump, Darcy adds, “But I’m sure that’s something that could be worked out.”
“Excellent!” Maura says, clapping her hands together and bouncing on her heels. She looks to me, “What do you think, honey?”
Glancing around the decent-sized two-bedroom apartment, I have to agree with Maura. A place like this is ideal for her. It’s open and bright with two white framed glass doors leading out to a moderately sized balcony, a small kitchen, antique hardwood floors, and a high ceiling. Among the standard white walls is a subtle green one where a small gas fireplace sits. The general feel is cozy but modern.
“How are the bedrooms?” I answer.
We make our way to the master and spare rooms. Both are larger than I thought they’d be, and so is the bathroom. Overall, it’s a fucking phenomenal apartment, and I think Maura would be crazy not to take it.
“Can you give us time to discuss a few things in private?” I ask Darcy, who has been hovering the entire time.
“Oh, certainly! Take as much time as you need. I’ll check back in shortly.”
She leaves an application and frequently asked questions pamphlet on the kitchen island and then makes her way out the front door.
The door clicks shut, and Maura gives me a pointed look. “First, you’re a jackass. Second, I’m getting this damn apartment no matter what you say. This is exactly what I was wanting!”
I know it’s insane, but getting her worked up gets me all worked up. Whenever I push her buttons, Maura gets this fire lit under her ass, and she isn’t afraid to push back at me when I do it. I think that’s why we work so well together.
I glance at my wrist, staring at a watch I’m not even wearing. “We’ll see. Five…four…three…two,” I count. “One.”
There’s a rapping at the door just as “one” leaves my mouth. Maura’s face scrunches, not sure what in the hell is going on. Smirking, I turn and cross the few feet to the front door. Pulling it open, I’m met with the familiar face of Gaige.
“Really, man? I was so confused when that order came through,” he says, handing me a large pizza. He pokes his head in the door and peers around with a satisfied grin. “Nice place, Maura. I think this is a good one.” He turns to me. “Twelve seventy-five.”
I laugh in his face. “No way, fucker. Payback for making me bust my ass and bruise my entire backside. This one is on you. Thanks for lunch!”
Slamming the door in his stunned face, I turn around to face Maura, who has her hands at her hips and is tapping her foot.
“Well?”
“Come on. You have to know if the best pizza place around can deliver promptly. That’s the only true way to know if it is, in fact, the perfect apartment.”
She shakes her head at my logic. “And how did you know it would be Gaige delivering it?”
“We have a code. Whenever an order for Mr. Apple Bottom comes in, it’s either Hudson or me.”
“Apple Bottom? For real?”
I shrug, heading toward the island in the kitchen. “What? We’re idiots.” I pull a stool out for her. “Sit. Lunch is on me.”
“You mean Gaige.”
I give her an incredulous look. “Traitor.”
We scarf down our pizza in fear of the landlady busting in at any moment, and I help fill out the residency application for Maura. When I reach the question regarding income, I pause.
“Do you have stable income?” I read aloud. Looking to Maura, I say, “Well?”
She swallows the bite of pizza she just ate, nodding. “I do.”
This is a rather nice apartment in a fairly upscale—or as upscale as it gets in Wakefield—part of town, and I’m worried she won’t be able to support herself on her tips from Clyde’s.
“Not that it’s my business, but do you make that much waitressing?”
She closes the now almost empty pizza box and raises a brow at me. “It isn’t any of your business, but yes. I do just fine at Clyde’s to support my living habits. But I do know that things will get far more expensive living on my own.” She glances down at the countertop, almost unsure of how to approach whatever it is she wants to say next. “I’m loaded, Tucker. It’s not just my parents who are rich. I have a rather massive trust left to me by my grandparents. Plus, it seems the only thing my own parents did correctly was teach me about investing. I gained access to my trust when I turned eighteen and began placing it in several different stocks. After I made a decent return, I pulled out and stashed it in an interest-earning account. My bank account is a little more than padded.”
My jaw is practically on the floor at this point. She’s smart as hell. Not that I didn’t think she wasn’t. I guess I never realized the grip she has on her finances.
“So you’re basically saying you’ll be my sugar momma one day?”
Maura doesn’t even hesitate to snatch the pen from the counter and toss it at me. “Jackass.”
“Mmm. I love it when you get sassy,” I say, abandoning the application and stalking around the island toward her. She squeals and takes off toward the living room. Chasing after her, I get a brilliant idea.
Channeling my inner child, I fall at just the right moment and pretend to smack my head into the coffee table. I roll to the floor and lie still, schooling my breathing to a bare minimum. Maura follows suit, falling to her knees next to me and shaking me by my shoulders.
“Tucker! OhmyGod, ohmyGod! Wake up!” Shakes me again. “Please, please, wake up. Tucker!”
Since she’s about in hysterics, I decide now is the time to pounce. In one split second, I shoot up, grab Maura, and roll until I’m on top of her. I press my body down on hers, caging her in so she can’t get anywhere.
The face I’m staring down at with a smug grin is one of shock, and maybe even a little disgust. But what’s giving it all away are her luminous blue eyes. They aren’t full of shock or disgust. They’re full of lust.
She’s loving this.
“Gotcha,” I gloat. “Can’t believe you fell for that.”
“You’re a terrible person, Tucker Cameron. I hope you fall and scrape your knee.”
“That’s impolite. You know I already bruised my ass today, and now you want me to get hurt all over again. Your mother should have taught you better manners, young lady.”
Maura doesn’t even try to suppress an eye roll. “What is up with you today? You’re so…giddy.”
“Does it bother you to see me happy?”
Her eyes grow serious. “If there is one person on this planet I want to be happy, it’s you, Tuck. You deserve it.”
My response is to kiss her. When I press my lips to hers, she immediately presses back. We’re gentle at first, taking our time. I tug at her lower lip, begging her to open up for me. She does. With our tongues now dancing together, our bodies gradually begin to move in a rhythmic pattern. Her hands move from my arms to my hair, grabbing on to my head and pulling me into her with a sense of urgency. I slide my hands down her body, grasping her legs and wrapping them around my waist to get a better angle on the friction that’s happening down below. She gasps when my dick slides against her sweet spot.
Tearing my mouth from hers, I kiss my way across her cheek and down to her neck, stopping briefly to suck at the tender spot below her ear, inducing another soft moan. Her feet drop from my hips as I drag my tongue lightly down her exposed neck, pausing when I reach her shirt.
I pop the first button and peer up at her. I can see she has her head thrown back, breaths coming out in ragged succession, and her cheeks flushe
d with the sexiest shade of pink. Damn, she’s stunning.
I flick open another button, and her breathing picks up even more.
“Is it hot in here?” she suddenly asks. “It feels hot in here.”
Another button and harsher breaths.
“It’s perfect,” I say, staring down at her white lacy undershirt, my already throbbing erection pulsing even more at the sight. It’s not a garment that should be sexy, but on Maura, everything is sexy. I can just imagine her in this and a pair of those lacy boy shorts. My brain goes into overdrive.
“You sure?”
A fourth button is popped open. Halfway there.
“Positive,” I lie, because it definitely is hot in here.
I blow a warm breath over the exposed swell of her breasts, causing her lower half to press upward into me. Her subtle movement spurs me to move faster as I swiftly pop open all the other buttons.
As I begin sliding her top off her, the front door flies open.
“Sorry about that,” Darcy says. “Got caught up on a phone call. How’s everything…” Her voice trails off as she walks into the kitchen, probably finding our pizza box still sitting on the counter.
I quickly move off Maura and attempt to push my boner down into submission. It doesn’t work so I roll onto my stomach.
Maura flattens her hair back down and stands up just as the landlady comes around the corner.
“There you are. I see you two have already tried the local pizza delivery.”
I can’t see her face, so I’m not sure if she’s upset or not.
“We did,” Maura says. “I hope you don’t mind. I always find it important to know if your favorite pizza place can deliver in a timely manner or not. It can make or break a great apartment find.”
I bury my face into the plush area rug to muffle my laugh.
“Is everything okay with your fiancé?” Darcy asks, this time the concern clear in her voice.
I’m guessing Maura senses I’m about to say something sarcastic, so she answers before I can.
“Oh, him? Yeah, he’s fine. When he’s in the doghouse, he doesn’t deserve the luxury of the couch, so I make him sleep on the floor. He’s there so often he finds it necessary to test it out. Isn’t that right, honey?”
Laughter bubbles up, and I begin shaking so hard I can’t even speak, so I just throw a thumb up in the air.
“You two are just the cutest!” Darcy compliments. “So, what do we think? Should we start the application process?”
I lift my head off the floor and look up at a now smirking Maura, who—despite what she said earlier—is waiting on me for an answer.
“We’ll take it.”
Four weeks.
That’s how long it has been since Maura and I began playing this game of tug-of-war. That’s how long it has been since she unofficially became mine.
In those four weeks, I’ve managed to meet with three other record executives and make a decision about whom I’m going to sign with.
Now I only have to hand over my signed contract.
The biggest thing holding me back from doing so is the blonde beauty I can’t seem to get off my mind. I know that by letting our future together be my deciding factor in signing, I would be breaking the promise we made to one another about working on ourselves and doing things for us. But I can’t help wanting to hold on to her for as long as possible.
Because I know signing will mean recording. Recording will lead to touring, and touring will lead to more recording, and then the cycle will continue. It will be a legally binding never-ending cycle. It’ll be exhausting and time consuming. And that will be a relationship not a lot of people are going to be willing to invest in.
That especially makes me uneasy with Maura, considering her history with long-distance relationships.
So it’s easy to understand why I’d be hesitant to embark on this journey. It will mean losing her, and I’m not ready for that. Not even close.
While I’ve been struggling with letting go, Maura has spent the last four weeks telling her parents to “suck it” in every way she can without talking to them. She sold her car and bought a nice used one with the money. She got out from under their cell phone plan and got her own (yes, sticking them with early termination fees). And she’s exploring possible careers because she’s decided to do something with her decorative business degree her parents forced her to get.
In the last year that I’ve known her, she has grown and changed so much. She used to bend at the will of others. Now, rather than bending, she pushes back and puts herself first.
I am so fucking proud of her for it.
Neither one of us has talked to Tanner since “the phone call,” as we refer to it. I’ve reached out to him a few times. A few to yell at him for what he did to Maura and a few to attempt to explain my side. All calls went unanswered and unreturned.
While we still tiptoe around bringing him up, being able to let things go and focus on the here and now is becoming easier by the day. We’ve just been trying, living for us and not for what happened before.
And it’s working so far.
“Ready!” she calls as she walks back down my hallway and into the living room where I am. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”
I smile because she’s the one causing us to run behind schedule by showing up five minutes late and then taking another five in the bathroom.
Over the many days we’ve spent together, I have learned that Maura is perpetually late. We go bowling—she’s late. We go to the movies—she’s late. We go to dinner—she’s late. I say I’m going to meet her at her place—she’s late. How that last one is possible, I’m not sure.
But the best part about her lateness? She always makes up an excuse. Always. And they are ridiculously adorable.
Tonight it was that she couldn’t get her eyeliner to “even out,” whatever the hell that means. That was also the reason she rushed into the bathroom immediately after she got here. And then came out looking the same as before in her skintight jeans and loose top. As usual, she’s classy and casual all at once.
It’s a trait so small and quirky, but it makes her so irresistible.
“Yes, princess,” I tease.
She glares at me and walks over to the door to slip her shoes back on. “Scoot! You have a set to play, and I don’t want to miss it.”
“It’s not like I don’t know the owner or anything,” I tell her, pulling myself off the couch. “Bet I could sweet talk him into moving my slot around.”
“Poor Gary. He beats a tumor and gets you as the consolation prize. Doesn’t seem very fair to me.”
I swat her on the ass as I brush past her and open the door. Over my shoulder I say, “I consider him quite lucky, actually.”
“Lucky my ass,” she grumbles, following me down the hall.
“Who all is going to be here tonight?”
I wave at my father, who is behind the bar, as we walk into Mic’s. Grabbing Maura’s hand, I pull her toward our group’s usual table.
“Everyone,” I answer as we approach our friends.
I watch as Maura and Rae do their weird squeal/hug thing and immediately fall into easy laughter. Every time she smiles or giggles, my body is taken over with warmth and happiness, and my heart gets out of sync.
I must stare a bit too long, because when I finally peel my eyes from her, Hudson throws me a knowing look over the top of his glass as he takes a drink. Glowering in his direction, I take a seat at one of the empty chairs.
“It’s busy as shit in here tonight,” I say, glancing around and seeing a crowd that’s far bigger than it normally is.
“I hear this hotshot singer that’s damn close to signing on a recording contract is playing what may be his last gig tonight,” Gaige says.
I shrug. I know there are a lot of rumors swirling around about all of it, but I’ve yet to confirm anything since my brain is in limbo with it all. “Do you believe everything you hear?”
“Nah. Only things posted on the Net. The Net is always accurate,” he deadpans.
“Can’t believe you brought him out in public,” I say to Hudson.
He shrugs. “Your roommate.”
“Hey, Tuck, think you can move your slot up by fifteen minutes? Crowd is starting to get antsy, and the skit before you go on got canceled,” Gary asks from the end of our table.
It’s kind of strange to have Gary talking to me. We’ve never really interacted at the club before during gig nights because we didn’t want people thinking Gary was playing favorites or pulling strings to get suits in here. We’ve always kept our father/son relationship separate from our business one.
“Sure thing,” I say, and he walks off.
Hudson leans in across the table. “It’s still odd to see you two together. It’s like seeing into the future or some shit.” Yes, I finally told him.
“Truth,” Rae says. “Your dad is hot, Tucker.”
“Hey! No! We don’t say those things,” Hudson says, glaring daggers at his girlfriend.
She shrugs. “Whatever. All I’m saying is Maura is lucky. Her boyfriend is gonna be a looker when he’s old and grey.”
My eyes snap to Maura. It’s common knowledge that we have a thing going on, but this is the first time since it’s started that someone has been so vocal about it. I guess from the small smile she gives me she likes the boyfriend label as much as I do.
Hudson reaches his hand out and snips at the air with finger scissors. “That’s it, little lady,” he says to Rae. “You’re cut off.”
We all laugh because there’s no way he’ll stick to that.
As I’m about to go check whether my gear is ready for my show, Maura leans over and kisses me on the cheek.
“You doing an original tonight?” she asks hopefully.
Glancing around the club again, I see how much the crowd has grown in the ten minutes we’ve been here. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it this packed before, and I know it’s because of me and the rumors going around. It seems my social media following is more dedicated than I thought. But as awesome as it is to have a full house for what could be my last gig here, I don’t think they’re ready.
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