15. Tucker
Chapter Fifteen
TUCKER
Skylar’s eyes held mine. I wished I knew how to read her expression. I sensed she was nervous, but she had perfected the art of giving nothing away.
She stared at me steadily for a few beats before she shrugged. “I kind of doubt that.”
Her matter-of-fact tone twisted my heart. She wasn’t even being sarcastic.
“Don’t,” I said, my tone low. I needed to make her understand. “Believe me.”
“Tucker—” She rolled her eyes. “You barely know me, and Daphne barely knows me. It was really nice that she invited me out, but?—”
“Skylar, most of us see you almost every day and hear your voice all the time. I kissed you.”
As soon as I said that, I wanted to snatch it back. Not because I was hiding something, but it wasn’t the time for this detour in the conversation.
“That kiss was a mistake,” she said flatly.
Her cheeks went pink as she turned away. She crossed over to a cabinet and fetched two glasses, filling them each with water. “Do you want some ice?” she asked over her shoulder.
“No, thanks.”
“I can make some tea,” she offered as she turned.
“I’m not really a tea guy.”
“Hot chocolate?”
“Okay, I’ll go for hot chocolate,” I replied. I really could go for a beer, but I had to drive home.
She filled a kettle with water and put it on the stove before turning on the burner.
“We’re not going to kiss again.” She turned around, her words coming out almost forcefully.
She followed that with, “I have to check on my guinea pigs.” She hurried across the room, stopping beside a table beyond the couch where I saw there were three connecting glass containers.
I followed her over, watching as she cooed to two chubby guinea pigs, one black and white, and the other brown and white. She checked their water before turning to face me. “This is Pigley.” She gestured to the black and white one. “And this is Squiggly.”
“They’re cute,” I offered.
She smiled a little and then turned to walk back into the kitchen.
“Why can’t we kiss again?” I was determined not to let her avoid that topic.
“Because it’s a bad idea.” Her eyes narrowed, and her chin pointed forward.
“Was kissing me that bad?” I teased.
Her eyes went wide, and she sputtered on a sip of water. She swallowed and shook her head. “No!”
Now, we were already in deep on the topic, so I just went for it. “Tell me what you meant when you said, ‘Don’t ruin this.’”
She surprised me by even answering. “I’m trying to make a life here, and I don’t want to screw it up. Relationships mess things up.”
“It was just a kiss, Skylar.”
“I know. It’s nothing.”
I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I knew I was being crazy.
I had loved someone and watched her die way too young.
I’d told myself love was never worth it again.
I wasn’t kidding myself into thinking I was in love with Skylar.
Yet she was really getting under my skin.
It rankled me that she was opposed to a kiss.
“That kiss wasn’t nothing. It was a good kiss,” I insisted.
Her flush deepened. I sensed she wanted to stay all the way across the kitchen from me. She crossed the kitchen and sat down in the only other chair at an angle across from me. She was maybe a foot away now.
“Fine. It was a good kiss,” she muttered.
I felt my lips tug into a smile. “Was it that bad?”
“I just told you it was good,” she insisted.
“I think we should try again. I have a point to make.”
“Oh, my fucking god,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “You do not have a point to make. I’m starting to make friends. I don’t want to kiss you and have it ruin the friends I have.”
“Kissing me won’t ruin that.”
“How do you know?”
“What the hell happened to you, Skylar?” I heard myself asking.
Her eyes went wide. For just a second, I could’ve sworn she was about to burst into tears. It passed so fast I doubted it, yet it didn’t change the feeling I sensed—an intense sadness and loss.
“My parents are both dead, my mother from an overdose and my father from a fight in jail. I spent most of my childhood in foster care until I ‘aged out,’” she offered with air quotes.
“That’s what happens when you don’t have your own family.
Most people don’t really care, and it doesn’t really matter once you turn eighteen.
I don’t count on anybody but myself. I came to Alaska because I was supposed to move here with my best friend.
She was the only person I called family.
We ended up in foster care together. It was actually a good home, but then the foster mom got sick, so we had to move.
I had a good social worker who ensured we stayed in the same school district, even if we couldn’t be in the same home.
Emily and I planned this trip. She found this apartment.
” Skylar paused, sweeping her arm in an arc.
“We even got jobs, and then she died. My car is our car. Her name is still on the title with mine. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do about that. ”
She spoke calmly as if she had practiced every word. The emotion underneath reverberated like a drumbeat. I just wanted to wrap her in my arms and shield her from anything else going wrong in her life. Because nobody deserved that shit.
She lifted her chin, ending with, “So you see why I don’t really count on anything or anyone.”
“I do,” I said quietly. “I really do.”
I reached over and tugged her chair close to mine, bracing my knees around hers. “I know what it means to lose someone you love. I do have family, and they were there for me. I’m sorry you don’t.”
This conversational detour had turned into a new highway at this point. One that I sensed led directly into the very heart of Skylar. My own heart was thumping hard and fast. We stared at each other quietly. I lifted a hand and brushed a few drying locks of hair off her cheeks.
I didn’t plan to kiss her. I wasn’t thinking very well, or at all.
The moment her plush lips opened underneath mine, I angled my head to the side and let out a groan.
She arched into me, and our kiss went on and on and on.
I drank her in. She tasted sweet and warm.
The next thing I knew, I had tugged her onto my lap.
She was a warm bundle of softness and curves.
She straddled me, and her hands cupped my cheeks as she took over our kiss.
It spiraled out of my control, snapping the tether of my control loose.
Fuck me. She kissed with abandon. Our tongues tangled while her hips rocked over the hard ridge of my arousal.
She felt a little wild in my arms. I had one arm curled around her waist, and I couldn’t resist sliding the other under the hem of her soft, inviting top.
Her skin was silky and warm under my touch, still dewy from her shower.
She pressed into my touch when I cupped her breast. Her nipple was tight, the weight of her breast lush and full.
I broke free, gulping in air as she rasped my name. I knew what I needed to do. “Just let me do this,” I murmured against her throat.
I was fully prepared for her to tell me to fuck right the hell off. She didn’t.
This side of Skylar was one I’d never seen. She felt vulnerable with an edge of wildness to her. I couldn’t have imagined her like this if she wasn’t right here in my lap, alive and vibrating. I could feel the need emanating from her.
I reached between us. Her eyes were wide, watching me as I watched her. I slipped my hand into her sweatpants to discover she wasn’t even wearing underwear. My cock throbbed. I delved into the core of her. Her arousal slicked my fingers as I explored her folds.
She still watched, biting her bottom lip.
I couldn’t help it. I needed to taste her.
Dipping my head, I dragged my tongue along her collarbone, dropping a hot kiss in the divot at the base of her throat.
She cried out when I sank my fingers into her.
She surprised me, coming abruptly and letting out a noisy cry.
Her channel clenched around my fingers, and wetness drenched my hand.
I stayed with her through it until she relaxed against me.
She curled soft into my shoulder as I slowly drew my touch away.
I was stunned by the intimacy of the moment.
I had to have more. I needed to know her.
I needed to show her that it could be worth it.
I kept expecting her to bolt out of my lap, but she didn’t. After a few moments, she lifted her head, and we studied each other quietly.
She took a breath before saying, “You promised it wouldn’t ruin anything.”
“I meant it,” I said just as the doorbell rang.
The sound snapped through the moment. She scrambled off my lap then, hurrying to the door. She greeted the pizza delivery guy and gave me a moment to stand, adjust my jeans, and wash my hands in the sink. I crossed to the door, saying over her shoulder, “I’ve got it.”
The delivery guy held up the boxes. “Perfect. Twenty bucks even.”
I pulled out forty and told him to keep the change. Skylar’s eyes were wide when I closed the door. “Why did you give him such a big tip?” she yelped.
“Because the weather sucks, and he probably gets paid minimum wage. Tips are what help him get by.”
She eyed me and shrugged. “Maybe you have a point.”
I shrugged. “It’s my money.”
She kind of glared at me and then walked back into the kitchen. “Are you staying or going?” she called as she reached to get plates out of a cabinet.
“I said I was staying until you ate, so I’m staying.”
“But the pizza will get cold by the time you get home.”
“No one will care. Reheated pizza is perfect.”
I was frankly starving myself. What I’d allowed to happen a few minutes ago wasn’t supposed to happen. Yet I couldn’t undo what happened.
I was going to have to find a way forward, find a way to convince her—even though this was fucking insane for me to consider—we had something between us worth exploring.
After all of her skittishness, Skylar was calm after that. She handed me a plate, refilled my water, and made hot chocolate from packets. She sat down across from me, putting two slices of pizza on her plate. We ate quietly, and then she pushed her plate away.
I met her eyes. “Let’s give this a chance.”