After my time at the shelter and all the life experience explained to me by the women there, I had a pretty good grasp of how things would go.
It was a good deal different from movies and TV shows. I knew that much.
Tucker cared a lot. That was important, at least according to Alicia and Tara and Yvonne. Most men didn’t.
I lead a visibly nervous Tucker into my bedroom, but decided to leave the light off. A fair amount of lamplight from the parking lot spilled through the edges of the blinds, which didn’t quite fit the window.
I didn’t feel any more self-conscious about my bedroom than the other parts of my apartment. I knew it was meager, but I was proud of what I’d managed to put together.
In the half-light, the shadowy forms of mybed, which was only a mattress and box spring, and a small dresser I had scavenged didn’t seem quite so bad.
The bed was covered with a soft velour blanket I’d picked up on sale at Target. It was one of my favorite possessions, actually. Sitting on it was like resting on a cloud.
Tucker and I sat side by side on the edge, our thighs pressed against each other.
“It’s just like the first time you kissed me,” Tucker said.
“At the hospital?”
“Yeah.”
I grinned at him, although I wasn’t sure he could see it in the dim light. “So, it sounds like I’ve been the one making all the bold moves.”
He laughed. “Maybe.”
Now that we were here, I felt a little anxious. “I’m still on that shot that I talked about in your story. The night we were supposed to do this.”
He nodded. “Okay. Good.”
This felt awkward. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him. Maybe he wasn’t ready.
If Marguerite and Bethany were right, this whole thing wasn’t worth the effort. There would be a lot of grunting and pushing and being all sticky later.
I was about to call it off, but then Tucker closed the gap to draw me close. Warmth rushed through my body, leaving me tingling.
He kissed my hair, then close to my ear, then my jaw. Finally, he moved to my mouth.
Something about this kiss felt different. It wasn’t light and hurried, like the ones outside the diner, or when we would say goodbye after meeting with Gram.
And it wasn’t new and unfamiliar, like at the carnival.
This kiss hit differently, deeper down. This was a kiss of someone I knew loved me, even if I wasn’t quite ready to love him back. He’d known me all along, and now I had begun to know him, too.
It was a kiss of trust. And longevity. Of new beginnings.
As he pressed his lips to mine, I realized I knew this kiss. This exact one. It was a kiss of wanting more. Of contentment. Security.
He teased my lips open with his tongue, and we pulled closer together, our bodies connected as we sat side by side.
He tasted like mint gum, which made me smile. Tucker always planned ahead. He was thoughtful. Patient.
But as the kiss went on, something flared. Something bright and down low, a spark igniting in what had been a dark, hidden part of me.
His fingers brushed the loose hair at the back of my neck and the tingles became intense, like lightning flew from his fingers.
I sucked in a breath, but Tucker wasn’t hesitant any longer. He dragged me close. He shivered lightly, and I realized he was feeling the same thing. We were going through this together.
There had only been one woman at the shelter who spoke of love in a wistful way. Missy had been engaged once, years before the string of problems that brought her to the shelter with a newborn.
