Tucker turns to look at me now, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What about me?”
“Are you going with them?”
Tucker shakes his head furiously. “Nah. I’ll either stay at the house or go to River’s.”
“Stay with me.”
Tucker’s gaze lifts to mine, a question in them that I’m prepared to answer, but I’ll save it for another time. Something about Tucker says runner, and I don’t have it in me to endure him running, not yet.
“Okay,” Tucker agrees, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
I bite my lip and tuck my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants. “So, what do we do?”
Tucker blows another raspberry, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk’s. So fucking cute. “Let’s shore up the outside, then close the shutters. Where’s Cupcake?”
At the sound of her name, Cupcake sits up from where she’d been curled up in her dog bed in front of the fireplace.Her tag rattles as she slowly makes her way over, tongue hanging out of her mouth at the sight of Tucker.
Today he’s dressed in a lime-green cardigan, black skinny jeans, and all-black Chuck Taylors. He’s adorable compared to my sweatpants and ratty shirt that’s seen much better days. I watch as he dips down to carefully pet Cupcake’s flank as if he’s still a little afraid of her, but not enough to stop himself from giving her some well-deserved love. Just when I’m about to say something, Cupcake sticks her nose against his cheek, huffs, then licks a stripe up his face. Instead of reacting with annoyance, Tucker just giggles. Straight up giggles.
I want to know everything about him, I want to spend all my time with him, I justwanthim. But he’s still coming out of what sounds like a very toxic relationship, so I have to prove I’m a good guy over time. Let him really see me. I need to earn his trust, then spend years proving I’ll never break it.
Tucker presses a kiss to Cupcake’s nose, which she seems to love because her tail beats an electric current against the floor. He stands, hands on his hips, as if he’s on a mission from God.
“Well,” Tucker says. “Let’s get to business.”
“As long as we can cook dinner after.”
Tucker raises one eyebrow, making my stomach flutter. “Sure enough, Captain.”
Oh, I kind of like that.
We move all the outdoor furniture into the garage, close up the back shutters, and even move any plotted plants inside. It takes us an hour or so, and by the end we’re both covered in a light sheen of sweat, Tucker having taken off his cardigan a long time ago. I grab us both cold waters, pressing his water against his arm. He takes it with a grateful grin before chugging it in a few quick moments. I drink my water slower,doing my best to not watch him out of the corner of my eye. His shirt is a little tight, showing off the slight softness of his stomach, the soft muscle of his pecs. I can see a slight glimpse of his tattoos through his almost see-through white T-shirt, and I wonder what the story is behind each one. Can’t hurt to ask.
“What’s your favorite tattoo?” I ask as we slowly cool down on the back porch.
Tucker makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. “My Ninja Turtles.”
“What! You have to show me.”
Tucker purses his lips while he scratches his jaw. “They’re part of my thigh piece.”
“Okay?”
“Well, I can’t just take my pants off.”
Oh. Right. “Do you have pictures?”
Tucker grabs his phone, scrolling through it for a bit before locating a picture. He hands it over to me with no pretense, and I zoom in on the screen. The ink is fresh, a little red still on the outside. But it’s a fun fucking tattoo. All four turtles are posing with grins on their faces, two dipped down, two standing in the back, and one of them even has a piece of pizza between their teeth.
“Cool as hell,” I say as I hand his phone back to him, sad when our fingers don’t brush.
“Made me happy when I got it. My favorite is Raphael. Yours?”
“Mikey.”
Tucker snorts. “Very fitting.”
“Hey, what’s that mean?”
