“If you wanted me closer, you just had to say the word,” he says, breaking the silence.
Everything inside me goes quiet. The air thickens and my pulse slams so loud it echoes in my ears.
I don’t move.
I can’t.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice low.
I’m learning quickly that I can fake a polished look for millions of people online, but one look from Tucker and it all unravels.
“Yeah,” I lie, standing straight but not putting distance between us. “I thought you’d let me fall. But you…caught me.”
With his hand still on my waist, he squeezes me. “I always will.”
I don’t know how to take those three simple words.
His eyes bore into mine, and darkness washes over them. Desire pools in my gut as his fingers dig into my hips like he’s trying to decide whether to let go or pull me closer. He leans in, letting his breath brush my cheek, and suddenly the water on my skin feels ice cold compared to the heat spiraling through my body.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I whisper.
He tilts his head. “Like what?”
“Like you’re about to kiss me.”
His gaze drops to my mouth and lingers, just enough to send heat crawling up my spine. Then his eyes are back on mine, and Christ, I can’t fucking breathe.
My pulse trips over itself.
My chest feels heavy.
Everything inside of me pulls tight and sharp, lighting up in places I forgot existed.
“Maybe I am.”
If he kisses me right now, I’ll break.
If he doesn’t, I’ll break anyway.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, looking at me like I’m his next breath. “You haveno ideawhat you do to me, do you?”
I shake my head, and he leans in.
“I’ve been dying to kiss you again. Every single fucking time I’m around you.”
I no longer have the power in me to stop him. Despite my head screaming for me to step away from him, I can’t. I lean in too, closing my eyes in anticipation of feeling his lips on mine again.
The sound of my phone blaring on the floor near the door pulls us apart like we just got caught doing something we shouldn’t be doing.
I rush to my phone, looking down at the screen. “It’s…my mom.”
When I look up at Tucker, there’s an expression on his face I can’t quite make out. It’s something that resembles pain.
“I’ll give you privacy,” he says, brushing past me and leaving me alone in the bathroom.
An ache forms in my chest, and I can’t figure out why.
I answer the video call, trying not to sound like I was one second from kissing a man.
