by RH Tucker
Through the Layers
Rumor Has It, Book 4
RH Tucker
Copyright © 2018 by RH Tucker
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by Melissa Ringsted of There For You Editing
Cover design by James at GoOnWrite.com
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Taylor
From The Author
About the Author
Also by RH Tucker
Chapter 1
Micah
What’s the saying? ‘Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, I’m a complete and utter moron’? I know that’s not it, but it might as well be. I hear them inside. I know it’s her because her two roommates have class right now.
I’m not devastated. Not like I was a year ago when we only had a few months until we graduated high school. Everyone says high school sweethearts never last, but I know they do. My parents are high school sweethearts. So I know it’s more than possible. Just like I know following your dreams isn’t a lost cause because that’s what my dad did. He got the girl he wanted, the family he wanted, even the dream job he always wanted. Impossible dreams can come true. But right now I couldn’t give a shit about any of that.
It’s her birthday today. So here I am, standing outside of her apartment, a bouquet of her favorite flowers—daffodils—because I thought I’d surprise her. I guess the surprise is on me. To be fair, I shouldn’t be surprised at all.
I think about calling her, seeing what her response will be if I say I want to stop by. Would she even answer the phone? Then I think about just gently knocking, acting like I didn’t hear anything yet, trying to stay calm. But I don’t do either of those things. Instead, I slam my fist into the door, striking it as hard as I can. The noise inside stops.
I wait patiently, wondering if she’s going to answer. First I hear whispers, then the door unlocks, barely opening. Her eyes widen for a split-second. She tries to cover it up, placing her hand over her mouth like she’s yawning.
“Micah? Wh-what are you doing here?”
I let out an incredulous chuckle. “Wow, really?”
“What?”
“Lana, it’s your birthday.”
She bites her bottom lip. That used to be a turn on. “I know that. You should’ve called.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to surprise you.” I lift the bouquet up to her. “But it sounds like you already got your birthday surprise today.”
“What are you—”
I press on the door. She tries to block it from opening, so I push hard enough that she has to take a step back. The door swings open and I see a guy who has his shirt halfway on. He stares at me like a deer caught in headlights.
“Don’t worry, bro, I’m not staying,” I say, glaring at him before returning my attention to Lana. “You two can finish up your little birthday treat. Have a nice life.” I throw the flowers in her face, before turning around and walking down the stairs.
“Micah! No, wait, Micah!”
Like I said, I’m not devastated. I caught her cheating before. Now, I’m just pissed off. And as furious as I am at her, I’m even angrier at myself. How could I be so stupid? What did Taylor tell me when I said we were getting back together? Once a cheater, always a cheater? I know when he finds out he won’t laugh in my face, but he might as well. And while he’s at it, he can scream at the top of his lungs, ‘I told you so’ because he did.
“Please, Micah. Please, wait. Don’t leave.”
She grabs my arm as I make it to the bottom of the stairs. I pull it away from her, so she gets in front of me.
Lana’s gorgeous. Just a little shorter than me, she always liked that I was six-two. She said being five-ten meant she was a giant for a girl. Her hair, platinum blonde, always seems to shimmer in the sun. But it just pisses me off right now because it’s messy. That dickhead was probably running his hands through it. She’s fair skinned with full, pink lips, which she always used to her advantage. Yeah, she’s gorgeous. Not my type, something my friends always reminded me of back in high school, but she’s absolutely stunning.
She brings her hands up to my face, stepping closer. “No, please. Please, don’t go. I’m sorry. I screwed up. I’m so, so sorry.”
Her eyes start watering, and the tears fall. She begged and pleaded the summer after we graduated. She cried her eyes out. And I believed her. She told me it was a mistake when I caught her with some guy. That she was drunk and high. At the beginning of our first semester, she was still pleading with me. She’d call me every day. Sent text messages. And even though I believed her, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to get back with her. As much as I wanted to emulate my parents—my father—I couldn’t get the sight of catching her with some guy out of my head.
But then Christmas rolled around. And New Years. She was still calling me, begging for another chance.
Taylor and I went to a New Year’s Eve party, and she was there with a couple friends. Again she begged. She promised it was a one-time thing and that she hadn’t so much as gone out on a date with anyone since it happened. When the party started, I was still resolute. But by the time it ended, and a New Year began, things changed. I could say it was the drinks in me at the party. I could blame it on me telling myself “one more time, for old time’s sake” before we slept together New Year’s Eve. But that’s only partially true. The other part was that I wanted to believe her. Believe that it was all a mistake. I wanted to believe we could still have a happily ever after.
So, New Year’s Day, we talked about it. I told her it wouldn’t be easy. That I’d need time, and I did, but that I did want to try again with her. I’m a dumbass.
“It’s not a mistake, Lana,” I say, bluntly.
“But it is.”
“No. It’s not.” She’s still crying. “You’re not drunk. You’re not high. You’re just being yourself.”
“No, that’s not it.” She wraps her arms around me. “Please, please you have to—”
“I don’t have to do shit.” She recoils from the words, looking at me like I just slapped her. “You did this. You can’t blame this on anything or anyone but yourself.” I reach up, prying
her hands away from my neck. “It’s over.”
She doesn’t chase me this time.
Chapter 2
Veronica
“There he is,” Cindy whispers to me.
I turn around and see Micah Fernandez at the end of the hall. He knows who I am. Last semester we had an art class together. He’s incredibly talented. And incredibly gorgeous. And, unfortunately, incredibly taken. His girlfriend is model material. No joke. I’m five-two, and she towers over me. Blonde hair that sparkles, the complete opposite of my ebony curls.
“Cindy, stop,” I hiss at her.
“What?” She flips her hair, taking a bite of another chip.
We are sitting in the café on campus, where we usually eat lunch together. I finish off my burger and take a sip of my soda. Over the summer last year, I started a diet and ended up losing about twenty pounds. But since then, I haven’t stayed as strict as when I started. I really should start going back to the gym again, if for no other reason than because Micah works there. We’ve said hi and bye, but he doesn’t know I’ve had a crush on him since last summer.
“V, he may be taken, but there’s no harm in checking out the goods,” Cindy whispers across the table.
Before I can reply, I hear his voice from where he stands in line at the counter.
“No, and stop calling me.” His low grumble catches both of our attention. “I don’t give a shit. No, you said that before. Look, I don’t want to block your number, but I will if I have to. I don’t care, Lana, and you’re not sorry. No. Whatever, I don’t care. Stop calling.”
Cindy clears her throat, loudly, apparently trying to get his attention or at least to let him know we can hear him. My eyes widen.
‘What are you doing?’ my face says.
‘Oh, please. You know as well as I do what that call was about,’ is her responding smirk.
“Oh, sorry about that.” Micah steps out of line, over to our table.
“It’s okay,” Cindy says a little too bubbly.
Looking up at him, I see that he looks both angry and broken. “Everything okay?”
Shaking his head, he lets out a huff, averting his gaze. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”
Cindy gives me the eye, so I know what she’s thinking; I should make a move. I haven’t gone out on many dates since college started, much to her irritation. It’s not like I don’t want to go out on dates with cute guys, but … my weight is always in the back of my mind. I guess that happens when your last boyfriend cheats on you and says you guys never had sex because he hasn’t been with a ‘big girl.’ I never thought I was that big before he said it.
“You ready for your finals next week?” Cindy asks him.
“Yeah, pretty much,” he answers but looks around. He doesn’t seem nervous, but his body language is telling me he’s on edge. “Hey, I’ll talk to you guys later.”
“Okay.” I give a slight wave as he walks over to the counter to order something.
Cindy reaches over and grabs my hand. “He’s single!”
“Shh!” I scowl at her. “Give him a break, Cin. That didn’t sound too great.”
“Who cares?”
“I care. I might like him, but I’m not interested in being some kind of rebound.”
“Fine, fine.” She goes about scrolling through her phone.
It’s true, I don’t want to be a rebound for Micah, assuming he’s looking for something like that. But there’s a reason I’ve gone out on precisely three dates in the last year. There’s also a reason that of those three dates, there was only one second date of the trio. And nothing ever escalated past a make out session. It’s the same reason that even though I’ve liked Micah for a while, I’ve never tried to start a conversation with him when passing by him on campus or the few times I’ve seen him when he’s working at the gym. That reason? I still don’t want to be rejected because of my weight.
It’s been over a year, but my ex-boyfriend’s words are like a cloud that continuously hangs over me. Cindy and our other friend, Izzy, told me for weeks after we broke up that Tim is a jackass. That he’s selfish and a prick and superficial. And those are all true. It doesn’t change the fact that I know I’m overweight. I’ve struggled with it since I was little.
I should’ve never let the words sink in like they have. When Tim said them, I’d just caught him in his car, some girl face down in his lap. The girl freaked out and jumped out of his car, but he just sat there like it was nothing. I wanted to both run away and strangle him. It was over a year ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
“What the hell are you doing out here, Veronica?” He casually zipped up his pants as he stepped out of his car.
“Me? Are you kidding me? What the hell, Tim?”
“Come on, V. You can’t be that surprised.”
I scoffed. “I can’t believe this.”
I knew I was going to break up with him, but I was still stunned. I just stood there, waiting to hear what kind of excuse he would come up with.
“Look, I am sorry,” he spoke before me. “I should’ve ended this a while ago. You’re nice, V. Cute. And you’ve got a pretty face. It’s just, I’ve never really been with a big girl, you know? It’s kind of … weird.”
I slapped him across the face. “Wow, you dickhead. So it’s weird to have sex with a big girl, but you’ll let her go down on you.”
He grabbed his reddening cheek. “Seriously?”
“Go to hell!”
After the anger subsided, the pain set in. My friends assured me he was and is an asshole, but the things I feared growing up were already thrown in my face.
Cindy taps my hand. “You okay?”
“Huh?” I stare aimlessly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“There he goes,” she whispers.
I barely turn my head, glancing over my shoulder. “Cindy, it’s not gonna happen.”
“Yes, it is. I’m gonna make sure of it. I’m still in charge of Project V, remember?”
“You’re insane, you know that?”
She flashes a smile so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. “I know. But you love me anyway.”
“Don’t remind me,” I say, giggling.
Chapter 3
Micah
A loud moan echoes through the apartment. I glance over at my alarm clock. Eight-fifteen. Taylor certainly likes morning sex. Don’t get me wrong, I do, too—even though I haven’t had nearly as much as him—it just sucks his bedroom is next to mine, and our walls are paper-thin.
With class in an hour, I decide to get out of bed and shower. By the time I finish and head out to our kitchen, his bedroom door cracks open. Janice walks out, sex hair and all, and flashes me an embarrassed expression. I knew he was seeing her. He asked me if it was cool. Of course it was cool with me because I only had one date with her last semester before I ended up getting back together with Lana. Ugh, Lana.
It’s been over a week, and the anger has finally worn off. I didn’t think I would, but I’ve reverted back to my mopey phase. I’m still not torn up about it. It happened once before, so what the hell was I expecting? Nevertheless, it stings to know she did it again.
“Hey, Micah.” Janice gives me a bashful wave. “Sorry. It’s just … you never called.”
“It’s cool.”
We stand in silence for a moment, her in front of his door, me in front of the kitchen entrance.
“So, um …” she mutters, looking around.
“Yeah, good seeing you.”
“Yeah.”
I head into the kitchen and hear the front door open and close. Grabbing a box of cereal and a bowl, Taylor strolls into the kitchen.
“What’s up, man?” he asks, rummaging through the fridge.
“Not much. You sounded like you were having a good time.”
Closing the refrigerator door, he takes a bite of cold pizza. “I always have a good time. You know this.”
I have to laugh because I do know this. Taylor and I have been friends for the last
couple years since he transferred to my high school our senior year. We hung out a few times here and there, but it wasn’t until I broke up with Lana—the first time—that we really started to click.
For some reason, he took it upon himself to be a friend I could turn to. The first month, he hauled me to the gym. “Endorphins are good, bro,” he’d tell me. He isn’t wrong. As much as I hated going to the gym to lift weights or do CrossFit, I couldn’t deny I felt better after. We usually hit the gym a few times a week now. It helps that we work there.
When we graduated he decided he wanted to get an apartment instead of living at home, and he convinced me to live with him. He already worked part-time at the gym and got me a job. That, combined with our scholarship and financial aid, covers our rent and necessities. The apartment is on the smaller end for a two-bedroom, we have to share a bathroom, and like I said, paper-thin walls. But it’s nice to have our own place, not living at home.
“So, Janice is cool.”
He takes another bite of his pizza. “She is cool,” he replies with a shrug. “She knows my situation though.”
“No commitments.”
He points a finger at me. “Exactly. You’re the commitment man around here.”
“Don’t remind me.” Moving him out of the way, I grab the milk from the fridge.
“She’s a bitch, Micah.”
