by Emma Louise
I expected some nerves from him today, but from the moment we woke up this morning, he’s been cool and calm. No, that’s not it. He’s serene. This is his place. Seeing him like this is more than enough to allay any fears I might have had.
“That was the reason I left him before.” I don’t know why I tell her that. The words just fall out of my mouth.
“Because you thought he’d get hurt?”
“No, not quite.” Pulling my gaze away from Tucker, I turn to concentrate on Rylee. “I was definitely concerned for him; I think that’s normal. It was more than that. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep the fear to myself. I was always able to lock my fear down because I knew when he would be racing. But he started going to these underground street races. He would get a text, and the next thing he would be going off to race. That was when it all became too much. One night I begged him not to go. I tried reasoning with him, tried begging him, but he was determined to go.”
“That doesn’t sound so unreasonable, Brooke.”
“No, it wasn’t. But that night, after we argued and he left me alone to go race, I had the worst panic attack I’d ever had. I was a mess. And I knew it would be impossible to keep that from him; it was going to keep happening. It would keep getting worse.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand softly, offering me much needed support as I tell her something that I’ve only ever told my sister. “I knew I was going to end up holding him back. If he knew how deeply it was affecting me, he would have quit. He would have given up his dreams.”
“Oh, Brooke.”
“I couldn’t let him do it.”
“Does he know this?” Rylee takes my silence as the answer it is. No. I’ve let Tucker carry guilt over us ending, when in reality it was me and my weakness that ended us.
“Tell him. He thinks it’s because he put racing first.”
Guilt rubs away at my chest at hearing someone else telling me that Tucker blames himself. “Trust me when I tell you that things like that have a way of coming out eventually. Nip it in the bud before it becomes something bigger than it needs to be.”
I know she’s right; it’s totally unfair for me to keep something like that to myself. It’s not fair to either of us.
“Do you have any of those superstitions like some of the other drivers do?” All of the pre-race checks have been done, and there’s a few minutes for the drivers to collect themselves before they get in their cars. I tried to stay back and not get in the way, but Tucker wasn’t happy with that. He dragged me down and introduced me to his team. I had plenty of shocked looks thrown my way when he introduced me as his girlfriend.
We’ve not had that talk, but do adults even need to have it? We’re together all the time. We’ve ended every day in bed together since that first time, and I don’t see that changing any time soon. Even after that horrible confrontation with Tucker’s too recent for comfort past, I know there’s nobody else I want to be with.
“You mean apart from my lucky undies?” Tucker jokes, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Nope. Never had any quirks. Most of the guys do, but I’ve never picked one up.” We watch as the pit starts to clear as race time rapidly approaches. “Today seems like a good day to start one, though.” There's a teasing lilt to Tucker’s voice as he playfully buries his face in my neck and kisses the bare skin.
“Yeah? What should it be?”
“Shut up and kiss me.” He laughs as he spins me around and lifts my feet off the ground. His warm lips cover mine, and the stubble lining his jaw scrapes over my skin as he kisses me soundly. When he pulls back, he stares down at me for a beat, a look of pure adoration on his face.
I still love you.
The thought slams into me, and it takes a monumental effort to not blurt the words out. We’re not there. Not yet.
These last few weeks have been more than I could have hoped for, but it’s very much still early days for us.
“Good luck.”
“I’m going to win. For you.” Placing me back on solid ground, Tucker presses a kiss to my forehead and leaves me standing there before I can formulate any kind of response.
My heart is in my throat as he pulls the fire suit up his arms and zips it. The butterflies in my belly turn into a flock of birds as his HANS device and helmet go on. My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I don’t want to drag my eyes away from Tucker, but I pull the phone out anyway. It’s my dad.
He's got this. Take a breath and enjoy it.
I do as I’m told and breathe deeply. He’s safe. He knows what he’s doing. I repeat the words like a mantra as the cars leave the pit and get into position. I stay glued to my seat as the race starts, and the cars start to vie for position. Rylee takes her seat next to me, but she must sense my anxiety because she gives my tightly clenched fist a squeeze and doesn’t try to get me to speak.
My nerves are shot to pieces by the time the cars are sliding into the last lap. Tucker slips into second place after an issue with one of his tires. I can see how hard he’s pushing the car. Every turn they take he gets closer and closer to the car that’s a fraction of an inch ahead of him. My heart is in my mouth as they hit the last turn, and both cars hit it at full speed. That’s when it happens. Tucker takes his chance and somehow manages to slip into the lead. The cheers that sound from around me are deafening, but that’s nothing in comparison to the roar that erupts when he passes the finish line.
He did it. He won.
As soon as he’s out of the car, I’m rushing toward him. I don’t care that Becks is trying to say something to him. I don’t care that the press clamor for his attention. I barrel toward him. He must sense my movements because he’s ready to catch me when I get close enough to launch myself in to his arms.
“Told you I’d win it.” His grin is cocky, but he’s never looked more handsome than he does in this moment. With his sweat-damp hair in disarray and eyes dancing with joy, I could look at him like this forever.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
TUCKER
“Fuck me,” I grunt as Brooke sits astride me, my cock buried deep inside of her. My back is to my headboard, and I’m probably leaving bruises on her ass from how hard I’m gripping on to her. My hands try to set our pace, but it’s pointless; we’re both past the point of control.
“Tuck... I’m so close.” She doesn't need to tell me. I can feel her pussy rippling around me as she grinds down on me hard to match each upward thrust of my hips. Sliding my hand up to her small waist, I push forward, taking her to her back in the bed, somehow managing to keep us connected. We both groan as I slide impossibly deeper inside, thanks to the new angle of our bodies.
I can’t get enough of her. My hunger to feel every part of her drives me to push deeper, deeper, deeper.
“There...” The word is a gasp that gets cut off from the orgasm that I can feel is ripping its way through her. The vice-like grip her pussy has on me pulls me right along for the ride. My release has the lights fading and stars bursting into color behind my closed eyes.
I’m not entirely sure I didn’t pass out for a second. When I finally make it back to my own body, my head is buried between her phenomenal tits. The fast thump, thump, thump of her heart matches my own beat for beat.
“I’m never losing another race if this is how we celebrate a win.” Brooke’s soft body rocks against mine as she giggles. My hardly deflated cock is still inside her, and the movement sends a ripple of pleasure straight to my balls.
“You were amazing today.” Blue eyes gaze up at me. So tender, so full of affection. Fuck, I love her so much. “And we can totally celebrate like this every time you win.”
I should get up, let her get cleaned up and feed her, but instead I kiss her. And it’s not long before I’m fully hard, and we're lost in each other once again.
***
My text alert goes off, waking me up from a deep sleep. Judging by the bright sunshine creeping in around the edge of the wooden blinds, I’ve slept in for a
while. Yanking the charger out, I open the message. Anger bubbles up in me when I see Karlyn’s name there. Congrats on the win. Call me. Is she serious right now? I don’t respond. It’s not the first time she’s messaged me, but it is the first since the crap she pulled with Brooke. I block her number without responding, but if I know Karlyn, which unfortunately I do, that won’t stop her. She’ll realize what I’ve done, and she’ll have a new number soon enough. I make a mental note to change my number before she gets the chance.
Pulling on a pair of shorts, I go in search of Brooke. I’m not a fan of waking up and not finding her in bed next to me. Following the smell of bacon and coffee, I find her in the kitchen. The radio is on, some crappy pop song is playing, and Brooke sings along as she makes breakfast.
She’s stunning. All other thoughts flee my mind as I watch her move round my space like she’s always been here with me.
It’s not just that she looks amazing in nothing but a sports bra and yoga pants. It’s her. She’s here, in my space, making it feel more like a home than anywhere I’ve ever lived. She is my home.
Making my way over to the sound system, I find the song I’m thinking of. Pressing play, I walk over to a surprised looking Brooke.
“I was making you breakfast in bed.” She pouts, but I ignore her.
“Dance with me,” I say instead. Pulling her into my arms, I don’t give her the chance to say no. I sway us around, because actual dancing is beyond my capabilities. But that doesn’t matter because I have her in my arms as we move. Brooke wraps her arms around my neck and slides her fingers up in to my hair. Al Green sings quietly around us, but the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
It's just us. Everything I’ve ever wanted. My mind fills with pictures of us, this being our life. Not here, in this apartment; this place is too dull for my Brooke. We need a nice house, somewhere that I can talk her into giving me a couple of kids to fill it.
No, I don’t want to wait for that. I'm going to have to convince her to move in here first; I’m not willing to be apart from her anymore. We’ve wasted too much time already.
***
It's late in the afternoon when Brooke’s phone rings with an incoming call. She looks at the screen then glances at me nervously. “It’s my mom,” she tells me, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Answer it then.” I’m confused at her reaction; does she not want them to know we’re together again?
“Are you sure? I don’t want to ambush you with them. You know how my mom can be. She’s been asking to speak to you for weeks now.” She rolls her eyes playfully. So she has already told them. Fuck, it feels good to know she’s not hiding this.
“Brooke, answer the damn phone.” I can’t keep the amusement out of my voice, even when nerves kick in. I’ve not seen or spoken to her parents since I left Savannah. She nods, takes a deep breath, and swipes the screen.
“Hey, Mom.” Her face lights up as Elliott’s face fills the screen. Shit. Hearing her speak on the phone is one thing; seeing them on FaceTime is something else entirely. That’s why she was nervous. They make small talk for a minute as I try to calculate my chances at escaping before Elliott notices that Brooke isn’t in her own house.
“Yes, he’s here. Tuck, come say hi to my mom.” Brooke cuts into my planning, a cunning smile on her face. Swiping my suddenly sweaty palms on the leg of my shorts, I move to the seat next to Brooke. Why do I suddenly feel like a teenager meeting the parents for the first time?
Payback. I mouth to her as I get closer. The smile that lights her face is intoxicating.
“Oh my.” I hear Elliott breathe. “Look at that.”
“Hi, Mrs. Nash.” She looks exactly the same as she did the last time I saw her. Brooke and her twin sister look just like Elliott. All of them have the same petite features and long blonde hair. She could pass as the twins’ sister, not their mother.
“Tucker Neal, don’t you Mrs. Nash me,” she says happily through the screen. “Look who’s all grown up.” She looks over at Brooke with a grin on her face and her eyebrows raised.
“Mom.” Brooke’s exasperated warning has a small chuckle coming from all of us. I forgot about this. The easiness between the Nash family. Elliott was always so warm and welcoming to me. I’m pretty sure all the neighborhood kids had a crush on her growing up, and I was most definitely one of them. Although, I think for me it was because she was everything I thought a mother should have been. I didn’t remember mine. She was dead before I could even form memories of her. I have a few pictures, that is it. She was pretty, but her eyes, the same color as mine, looked empty in every photo. Even the ones where she held me. Growing up with my dad, I’m sure he was probably the reason for that. If he treated her half as bad as he did me, she probably felt trapped.
The conversation flows easily. There's no mention of the past. We talk about how Brooke’s siblings are, how it is living in California. It's almost as if we never lost contact.
We’re laughing at a story Elliott tells us all about one of her son’s latest dating disasters, when Duke’s deep voice rumbles from somewhere nearby.
“Is that my little girl?”
Brooke tenses next to me. Duke is a not a man to mess with. He’s not got much patience for people in general; especially not people who have hurt his girls. I’m suddenly grateful that we’re meeting again for the first time through a screen and not face to face.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Mr. Nash.”
He moves into view behind his wife. His still bulky shoulders fill the screen as his hard face glares at me.
“Tuck.” There’s a long silence after that one word, and I find myself shifting in my seat. Am I supposed to be speaking first? What the fuck do I say?
I know you threatened to break my face if I hurt your daughter, but oops, I did it anyway and now I’m back and asking for forgiveness?
“Saw the race yesterday. You did good.” There’s a collective release of breath when he speaks. The biggest from me.
You did good.
Jesus. Those words, the praise I didn’t realize I needed from the man I looked up to most as a kid is a balm for the loneliness I’ve felt ever since I left home ten years ago.
The conversation takes a relaxed turn after that, and we leave it with promising I’ll be there the next time Brooke heads home for a visit.
She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m already planning how to make that happen as soon as I possibly can.
This is our time, and I’m not letting anyone get between us.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BROOKE
I’m putting the finishing touches to my makeup when a coffee cup appears next to me. “You going to be okay today?” Tuck brushes his warm lips over the exposed skin of my neck as he presses me into the bathroom counter.
“I hope so. He was so excited the last time I saw him. I just pray his mom is really ready for this.” Today is the first time Jared is seeing his mom since she went into rehab almost six months ago. She’s opted to extend her stay twice now, and I just pray that means she’s really committed to getting clean this time.
“You’ll be there for him, no matter what happens,” he reassures me, dropping another kiss on my neck and giving my ass a squeeze as he moves away to get himself ready. I love that he doesn’t doubt me. He’s so sure that I'll be enough to get Jared through today.
We move around each other as if we’ve always done this. Like we’ve always shared a space. Looking around, I realize just how much of my stuff is here in Tucker’s apartment. I’ve not spent a night away from him. Even when he’s traveled for a race, I’ve managed to work my schedule at The House around him so that I can be there.
Looking down at the coffee cup he just left for me, I'm overwhelmed with the urge to tell him how I feel. I love him. I know it down to my bones, so why haven’t I told him yet?
My eyes find his as he steps out of the huge walk-in shower. I don’t care that he’s still dripping wet. I walk to him and throw my
arms around him. Tucker doesn’t question the move; he pulls me closer and presses his lips to mine. As always, the kiss ignites as his tongue presses into my waiting mouth.
“What was that for?” he asks when I pull back to catch my breath.
“I love you.” His body locks at my words, but his eyes turn molten. Leaning down, he surprises me by pushing his shoulder into my belly and lifting me off my feet.
“Tucker!” I yelp as I blink at the sight of his tight ass that’s now mere inches from my face as he stalks into the bedroom. Hefting me up, he throws me onto the mattress. I don’t have time to catch a breath before his hard body is over mine, pressing into me.
“Say it again,” he growls as his hands move to frame my face.
“What?” My scrambled brain struggles to keep up with what’s going on.
“Say it again, Brooke. I need to hear you say the words so I can say them back to you.”
“I love you, Tucker Neal.” I have no idea why, but my throat closes up with emotion when his eyes slide closed at my words. He looks pained, but when he opens his eyes and stares down at me, all I see is love. He doesn’t need to tell me how he feels; he wears it like a badge.
“I love you too. Never stopped. Not for one day.” He swallows deeply, likely pushing down the same lump of emotion I was just hit with. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
By the time Tucker is done showing me just how thankful he is, I am more than late for work, and it isn’t just my wet dress I needed to change out of.
Thanks to the eventful morning, I’ve forgotten all about how nervous I’ve been about how today would go. Jared should be back from his visit by now. By the time I’m pulling up outside The House, I’m a ball of restless energy. Grabbing my bags, I pull my phone out to switch it to silent. There’s an unread text from Tucker.
