30. Tucker
Chapter Thirty
TUCKER
I was bone-tired a few nights later. Grant eyed me from where he sat at an angle across from me on the sectional at the staff house, commenting, “Well, you’ve made an appearance.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just sayin’. I haven’t seen you in a few nights.”
“Yeah, same can be said for you. Have you been home every night?”
He shook his head slowly. “But I’m not usually home every night. You are. Hell, you lead a boring life.”
Harley sat over at a small table by the windows with her laptop.
She was always doing some kind of graphic design project.
She called over, “He doesn’t lead a boring life.
He flies planes all over Alaska. That’s a career many people would envy.
I’m surprised there’s not a reality show on it.
” Her hands stilled on her keyboard as she glanced back and forth between us. “Oh, my god, I’m gonna propose that.”
“Propose what?” Grant prompted.
“There should be a pilot reality show, Alaskan style. Would you guys go for it?” she asked.
“Are you fucking insane?” Grant’s eyes went wide.
“Plus, we’re not the right group. None of us cares about how we look.
And except for me, you, and Tucker, everybody’s paired up, which means no drama.
I am not signing on to something that involves people breaking up, especially Flynn or Nora,” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh, so you’d rather see Elias or Diego break up?” I teased.
Grant glared at me. “Are you serious? Do you remember how fucking cranky Flynn was before he settled down with Daphne, and then Nora and Gabriel? Not only were they going to kill each other but I thought we were all going to kill them. I’m not saying their relationships are more valuable.
I’m just saying I appreciate the peace around here. ”
“Diego and Elias would be just as miserable and cranky if their relationships ended,” Harley chimed in. “Plus, it doesn’t have to be a reality show about sex and romance and drama. It’s about flying in Alaska.” She spun in her chair, tapping on her keyboard again.
Grant looked back at me. “No one wants a pilot show.”
I shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“So how is Skylar?” he asked.
I wasn’t hiding from anyone that I’d been with her. But I also wasn’t ready to talk about it. At least, not much. I was working damn hard to convince myself this was no big deal. I just wanted her to know not all men were assholes. It wasn’t going to go anywhere. I wasn’t going to fall for her.
Liar, liar. My critical mind taunted me, and I ignored it.
Just then, my cell phone vibrated on the coffee table. I leaned over to snag it, glancing down. I was startled to see a text from my dead high school girlfriend’s mother.
Tucker, I hope this message finds you well.
She was forever polite, apparently even in a text message.
I’m texting to let you know that I’m going to be sending you a letter from Claire.
I didn’t want it to startle you. I hope you’re doing well in life.
We miss you, and I know your parents miss you. Love, Teresa .
I almost couldn’t feel anything for a minute. Then my heart was clanging in my chest as if a stormy wind was blowing, clattering a bell wildly.
I hadn’t heard from anyone in Claire’s family in a while. They texted here and there. I must’ve stared at my phone too long. I almost forgot where I was.
Grant’s voice punctured my thoughts. “You okay?”
My head whipped up, and I gave it a little shake, letting out a breath. “Yeah, fine.”
“You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost, dude.”
“Does my dead girlfriend’s mom qualify as a ghost?” I asked bluntly.
“What?! What happened?” Harley glanced over, her brow knitting with worry.
“It was a long time ago. She died from Ewing’s sarcoma. Freaking brutal.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Grant asked slowly.
I had to give the guy some credit. He was so obviously uncomfortable, but he was a decent guy, and he wanted to support me if I wanted to talk about it.
“Nah, it’s been a long time, and I’m okay, but thank you.” I wasn’t up for responding to that text just now, so I closed the screen and went upstairs to bed.
My mind played tennis in my brain, bouncing between thoughts of Claire and Skylar.
It was strange to think about Claire now.
I had loved her, I really had. It was just that when you were that young, it was hard to know how things would’ve gone.
Back then, I believed we would be together forever.
When she got sick, I was positive she would beat the odds.
I learned then the odds were usually right.
The odds for Ewing’s sarcoma are cruel. Absolutely brutal.
All this time, I told myself I never wanted to love someone and lose them again.
I didn’t believe that bullshit about “it’s better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all.
” It really wasn’t. Fuck that noise. Yet here was Skylar.
I wanted her to believe love was worth fighting for. What the hell was I doing?