Of course it was him.
I hesitated, thumb hovering over the green icon. Despite my passion for queer romance novels, I had never been one to believe in fate or . . . cosmic signs from the universe. That was more of my older sister’s, Gwen’s, thing. But there was no denying that Tucker had impeccable timing, like some kind of sixth sense for when my world started to unravel.
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and pressed answer.
“Hey,” I managed, voice rougher than I expected.
“Hey yourself. I hope you don’t mind, but I commandeered your bathtub.”
He didn’t have to tell me. I could hear him sloshing the water around in the background.
“By the way, why am I onlynowfinding out about your collection of bath salts? It smells like a lavender-chamomile crime scene in here.”
I almost smiled—but the weight in my chest didn’t budge.
“Help yourself.”
“Also,” he added with a dramatic sigh, “your water pressure is objectively superior. I’m jealous. Just thought you should know.”
There was a beat of silence on the line. Then another.
“Heller,” Tucker said, his tone shifting. “You okay?”
I didn’t answer right away. The world kept moving around me, and I just stood there, stuck between one version of my life and another.
“I’m okay,” I choked out. “Just standing on the sidewalk like a moron, trying to get my brain to work.”
Tucker was quiet for a moment.
I heard another faint slosh of water, then his voice again—lower now, softer. “Tell me where you are.”
I looked up at the imposing skyscraper. “Outside thePortlandia Pressbuilding.”
“Stay there,” he ordered sternly.Rut roh, he’s pulling out his soft dom bedroom voice.“I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
“Tucker, no. You’re in my bathtub.”
“Not anymore. I’m already toweling off.”
“You can’t—”
“I can and I will.”
“Johnny.” I swallowed the sob in my throat. “Seriously, I’m in a shit mood. I don’t really feel like I can—”
“I’m not asking you to fuck me, Brock. I just . . .” Cars zoomed past me while I waited patiently for him to gather his words. “I want to make you dinner and then cuddle the shit out of you. Please, just let me take care of you, okay?”
The words settled deep in my ribs. I stood there, traffic rushing past, the scent of roasted coffee and car exhaust in the air, and for the first time, I let myself feel the truth of it—I didn’t want to be alone with this. Not tonight.
I pressed the phone tighter to my ear. “Yeah,” I said, voice quiet. “You can come get me.”
There was no hesitation on the other end. “On it,” Tucker replied. “I’m dripping all over your tile, by the way. You’re welcome.”
A breath of laughter escaped me—small but real.
“Don’t go wandering off. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I shook my head, the corners of my mouth tugging upward despite everything. “Drive safe.”
