“All right.”
“I used to run from things that scared me, because there’s no way something good can last.”
“Please don’t run,” I beg him, my throat tight with fear.
Tucker reaches over to gently graze his fingers over my cheek. I turn my mouth into the palm of his hand, nuzzling the soft skin there before placing a gentle kiss. Tucker gasps softly, shivers, then smiles at me with tears in his eyes.
“I don’t think I could run from you if I tried. But be patient with me?”
“Always.”
He leans over the console to kiss me soft and slow, the dreamiest kind of kiss. I’m so glad I didn’t eat any pizza just so I can carry the memory of his lips with me all the way home.
Tucker’s megawatt smile as he hops out of the truck would bring me to my knees if I was standing. I keep the truck idling, watching as he lets himself into the house, and I keep watching as he comes back to the front window to check if I’m still there. He waves, but I can’t see his face in the dark. I return the wave, back out of the driveway, and head home, wishing that it was responsible to move him in right now so I could wake up to him in my arms every morning.
I getto the park early the next day with a tired-looking Courtney in tow. I want to spend a few moments alone with Tucker before the festival gets underway. I find him under a tree with the fairy lights lit up. His pink hair is gone, replaced with lime green. I kind of miss the pink, but I was honest when I told him earlier that I’d like him no matter the color. The lime green will grow on me, just in time for him to change it again. At least it’s longer now after two months of growing. It’s got a slight curl to it, and I’m very excited to see the curls come in all the way, if he’ll let them.
“Hi.” Tucker gives me a hello kiss, smelling like cotton candy. “You’re early.”
“You smell like cotton candy.”
Tucker snorts. “Scott’s daughter sprayed me with her newperfumebecause my hair color demands it, apparently.”
“Why did you say perfume like that?”
“It’s just body spray from a kids’ store, so can we really classify it as perfume?”
“I kind of like it,” I say lowly, curling my arm around his back and tugging him close.
Tucker lifts one eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
“Smells like I could eat you up.”
“Oh, you can eat me?—”
“Gross!” River yells as he passes by. “Knock it off. Families are present.”
I chuckle and pull away from Tucker, despite never wanting to let him go. River comes back toward us with printed instructions in his hands.
“Here’s instructions for ticket scanning. The festival starts at seven on the dot.”
“I have a special guest arriving, but they’re not here yet,” Tucker says, craning his head around to look at the mostly empty parking lot. “Can I just let them in if they show or what?”
River gives Tucker a scathing glare. “Who is it?”
“Uhm.”
“Who?” River questions further.
“Just an old touring friend so we can play some music after the festival.”
River hums in disbelief, then toddles off to deal with something else at the festival. Tucker visibly relaxes and sighs in relief at not being pressed for more details. We tangle ourfingers together and head toward the front entrance to start scanning tickets.
At least it’s a cool day. Everyone seems excited that a former Super Bowl winner is scanning their tickets, and I pose for more selfies than I expected. But by six thirty, the cars are starting to dwindle and the parking lot is almost full. Sunset is close, and I find myself getting excited at the idea of sharing this memory with Tucker. I know it means a lot to him. The festival feels like a good way to kick off our official relationship.
Just when I’m about to suggest we call it a day, a blacked-out Mercedes G-Wagon pulls up to the curb with a screech. When the window rolls down, I’m shocked to see Nolan Hastings at the wheel, with a very attractive man in the passenger seat.
“Yellow,” Nolan says with his perfect smile. “Tucker summoned me.”
