“Thanks,” I murmur.
He gives me a small nod, and I start to head out, coffee in hand, but Josh’s voice stops me just short of the doorway.
“I have a big game Friday night,” he says to Tuck, a hint of nerves threading through his usual confidence. “Panthers versus our rivals, the Sharks. Do you think you could come?”
I pause, just out of sight, my heart catching.
“I think I’m free Friday night,” Tuck replies.
“Are you and Ari still coming?” Josh calls to Lucas.
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
“Sweet.”
The excitement in his voice makes me grin. This game matters. Rival school. Big stakes. And Josh has been working so hard soaking up every bit of advice Tuck gives him like it’s gold.
And Tuck…he gives advice freely. Like he wants to be there.
I slip upstairs, holding onto that feeling.
After a quick shower, I dress in a hurry and head for the room I’ve quietly claimed as mine—though technically, it’s his.
Tuck’s library.
It’s still mostly untouched, his presence lingering in the shelves and the worn leather chair by the window, but he rarely comes in here. Not unless I’m already inside. Like he’s made space for me without saying the words.
I settle at the desk, opening my laptop, trying to focus as faint voices drift up from the kitchen below—laughter, the clatter of dishes, the low rumble of Tuck’s voice threading through it all.
Home.
The word sneaks in before I can stop it.
About twenty minutes later, there’s a soft knock and then he leans into the doorway, filling the frame.
“Ready?”
I close my laptop, slipping it into my bag. “I am.”
He crosses his arms, shoulder resting against the doorframe. “I called about the car. Looks like it’ll be ready by Thursday.”
Relief flickers through me. “That’s great news. I can finally drive myself to class again.”
His expression shifts, just slightly. “You know I don’t mind taking you. Picking you up.”
“I know,” I say gently, adjusting the strap of my bag. Honestly, I love when he takes me and especially when I leave class late, and find him waiting. I just don’t want to get too used to it. “And I appreciate it. I really do. But I can’t keep counting on you, Tuck.”
Something flickers in his eyes—gone almost as quickly as it appears—but I catch it. He straightens, pushing off the doorframe.
“Right,” he says, a little more clipped now. “Anyway, the boys are ready. We should get going.”
A small knot forms in my chest. I try again. “Tuck, I appreciate?—”
“You ready for your test tonight?” he cuts in, already turning slightly toward the hall.
I let the moment go, even though it lingers between us. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say with a small, nervous laugh.
He glances back at me then, just for a second, his expression softening again.
