Like he’s choosing not to share, not because he can’t—but because he doesn’t want to complicate something.Except, I don’t know what that something is.But I feel it.
I don’t push.Instead, I keep talking.About Quinn.About work.About how exhausting it is trying to keep everything balanced all the time.And he listens.
Really listens.Not interrupting.Not judging.Just present.
At some point, I realize I’m yawning.I try to hide it behind my hand.Fail.
His eyes study my face.“You’re tired.And it’s been a long night.”
“I’m fine.”I lie.
“You’re not.You need sleep, Lucy.”
“I’ve had worse nights.”I admit before I realize the words slip out.
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t sleep.”
I huff.“You sound like Ava.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Depends on the day.”
Another yawn sneaks up on me.This one I don’t even try to hide.
Tucker stands.The movement is smooth, decisive.“Go to bed.”
I blink up at him.“Excuse me?”
“You need sleep.”
“You’re very bossy.”
“I’ve heard that before too.You’re very tired.And now the threat is gone, time for bed.”
I narrow my eyes.“You can’t just order me around in my own house.”
“I can suggest strongly.”
“That’s not better.”I argue and I don’t even know why.
“Go to bed, Lucy.”
The way he says my name does something strange to my chest.I push it aside and set the mug on the coffee table.
“I will.”
He nods once.Then moves toward the door.
I hesitate.“You’re leaving?”
He glances back.“Unless you want me to stay.”
My heart stutters.Do I want him to stay?Yes, actually.
“No.”The answer comes out faster than I mean it to.
His expression doesn’t change.“Okay.”
