by Renee Dyer
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright @ 2014 Renee Dyer All Rights Reserved No portion of this book may be reproduced-mechanically, electronically, or by any other means, including photocopying- without written permission of the publisher.
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Editing: Monica Black
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Formatting: Michael R. Burhans
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Dedication
To my street team, Tucker’s Sluts.
I couldn’t have dedicated this book to anyone else.
It’s no secret that I was going through medical issues during the writing of this book,
but what no one knew is that every day, I had all of you to turn to.
I had your kind words, your jokes, and encouragement.
And, most definitely, the pictures of hot men. ;)
On the days I didn’t even want to get out of bed, I would think of you ladies,
drag myself up, and start my day.
You’re all amazing and Eyes Wide Open is here in large part to all of you.
Thank you for supporting me and being with me every day.
I’m honored to have you in my life and call you my friends.
I love you all!
#ProudTuckerSlut
Chapter One
Tucker
Head between my knees, taking deep breaths, I try to calm myself from my latest outburst. I need to stop freaking out like this, but my head is a damn mess.
It’s been almost four weeks and I’ve heard nothing from Adriana. Nothing! She won’t answer my calls, reply to my texts, all my Facebook PM’s go unanswered, and she never set up a Skype account. She lied to me. I should have known the second I turned around at the airport and she was gone, but my heart refused to believe it.
She came to me that last night.
That’s what I’ve been telling myself over and over, but the excuse is getting old. The first week or two, I thought she would come around; get over whatever fear was holding her back from speaking to me. But, now… now I’m losing hope. I don’t know how I lost her. I keep going back to that last night we spent together and none of this makes sense.
The door opens and I suck in a breath, hoping she can’t hear the sniffle I’m trying to contain. I don’t want to move or make any noise out of fear that she’ll go running back to Alex and her memories of him. It’s too late, though. By the quickening of her shuffling feet, I realize she’s already heard me. I turn onto my back just as she reaches the bed and her body collides with mine. Her hands search my face, wiping at my tears.
“Oh, Tucker, no.” She kisses my eyes, my cheeks, my lips. “Don’t cry, baby. No, baby. Not because of me. Please.” Her whispered pleas continue as she places gentle kisses all around my face, her hands cradling the sides of my cheeks.
Circling her waist in my arms, I pull her flush to me and begin to lose myself in her warmth. “Shh, sweetness. You’re here now. I’m okay.” And, I am. Truer words have never fallen from my lips. My angel is in my arms where she belongs and her presence calms me like nothing else can.
I feel her smile against my mouth and take the opportunity to press my lips to hers, pulling her bottom lip into mine. Biting down gently, my dick jumps at the soft moan she breathes out. Our tongues find one another. There’s no rush in our touch and I’m okay with that. Tonight, I want to make love to her, show her how much she means to me.
Holding her tight to me, I roll, keeping her tucked into my already naked body. The fabric of her pajamas scratches my already sensitive skin and her hands roam my back as I shimmy her shirt up her body, her smooth skin like silk under my fingers. Her breasts are pure temptation pressed against my chest. My aching erection begs for entrance. Calling on my last reserves of control, I peel her bottoms off. I try not to come all over myself knowing she’s naked beneath me and purring in my ear.
Running my fingers up the inside of her thigh, I force her legs apart, continuing to trace the inner seam. Her quickening breaths sound throughout the room. Shit, that simple sound is enough to make me come undone. Licking two fingers, I skim them across her center. My dick dances happily as she catapults off the bed, her breasts connecting with my chest, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the air. She’s so wet, my fingers slide right in. A slight disappointment fills me. The room is so dark, I can’t revel in watching her shatter.
Her hips buck back and forth as she rides my hand, coating me in her juices. Little moans escape her lips. Damn, she’s hot when she lets go and takes over. Head thrown back, eyes closed, screams of her arousal, I have to be in her. Now.
Slipping my fingers from her warmth, I smile as her whimpers greet my ears. Images of her pretty pout overload my brain and it makes me hotter for her. I lay over her, between her welcoming legs and sink into her wetness. Our bodies meld together in unison. This is my perfection. Being buried in her, wrapped in her warm wetness, is my new favorite place to be. Her arms wrapped around me feels so natural, so right. She’s my home.
I’ve replayed that night a million times in my head and it still doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. Her coming to me, choosing me over Alex, us making love, how content she was in my arms, the way she curled into my body and fell asleep. I thought she had a breakthrough. I thought I got through to her.
I guess I was wrong.
If I could talk to her once, hear her tell me it’s over, maybe then I’d be able to move on, but this silence is slowly killing me. Pacing my trailer, I wonder again if I should show up at her door and confront her. What if she’s moved on? No, I don’t believe that, but the thought of her with another man eats at me, makes me sick to my stomach. Rage builds in me until it reaches the boiling point. “Ahh!” Screaming isn’t taking my pain away. All of the holes I’ve punched in the walls of my apartment or the times I’ve trashed the trailer, none of it is making me feel better. The only thing that will is Adriana. I need to talk to her. Maybe one more message.
“Jesus Christ. I’m turning into a damn chick,” I shout into my empty trailer, kicking the cabinets, my tantrum not over. It doesn’t soothe the ache in my chest. I know what will and she’s over three thousand miles away. I just need to hear her voice for a few seconds, to know she’s alright. Yep, chick bound. Pretty soon, I’ll have a vag. I can feel my balls shriveling up and my outie becoming an innie.
“What the fuck, Tuck!” Eddie slams into my trailer, the impact from the door shaking the entire frame.
“Gee, come on in, Eddie. Ever hear of knocking, asshole?” I know why he’s pissed, but my hurt and anger has taken control of me.
He gives me a look, as if to say, “Seriously?” I can feel it through the dark glasses he has on and see it in the set of his lips. I hate that he always hides behind those damn shades and I want to tear them off his face, but who the hell am I to judge anyone’s demons right now? “Get your shit together man! You can’t keep pulling this. We’re already two weeks behind and it’s because of you!”
Nothing like beating a man while he’s d
own. I know I’ve been difficult to deal with and haven’t been on my game, but we can’t be that far off schedule. Watching my friend’s rage building, I see that he means it. Nothing sets Eddie off faster than being behind schedule. “What’s worse is they all think your behavior is over Bitchtoria. Like you’d give her this kind of attention,”
“What did you say? They think Victoria did this?” I interrupt, motioning over myself. I know I’ve been a disheveled mess, not shaving, not even showering some days. I see the stares, hear them whispering. I guess I thought they knew me better. Victoria? Really?
“I’ll correct that right now,” I say, standing straight for the first time since stepping foot back in Vancouver.
Eddie’s hands on my chest stop me dead. I look at his hands and back to his dark lenses, a warning in my eyes. He knows I’ve never had a problem handling things the hard way and he needs to move. I really don’t want to punch my best friend, but this needs to be fixed.
I will not let Victoria think she won.
“Calm the fuck down, man,” he spits at me. “You run in there talking about the girl who took you in and broke your heart, we’re going to have a paparazzi shit storm on our hands. Think about it a sec, Tuck.” He removes his hands from my chest, but keeps them up in front of him. My stance relaxes a fraction, but we’re both still on alert. “You say you care about her. If that’s true then don’t stir up a hornet’s nest.”
He’s right. I know he’s right and I hate him for it. I want to punch him in his ‘right’ face, but I can’t. It’s not his fault this is happening. It’s mine. I never should have let her in. Who would have thought Mikos was right?
“Take an hour,” Eddie says on a sigh, “but pull it together. Whatever it is, you need to let it go, Tuck. It’s been a month. I think it’s time you say goodbye.”
As he walks out, he places his hand on my shoulder, his show of comfort and friendship. I don’t know what I would do without him some days. He closes the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Running my hands through my hair, I want to scream, rail at the universe about how unfair life is. How can I be handed my perfect fit only for her to be ripped away from me? Is Eddie right? Do I say goodbye? Half of me says it’s time, knows I’ve been holding on to someone who has no intention of coming back to me for too long. The other half is on my knees, begging for more time. Give her more time, floats through my mind. The problem is, I know in my heart time won’t fix this. She already said goodbye. I need to say goodbye, too.
But, how do I say goodbye to the woman I love?
I realized I loved her the moment I turned around at the airport and she was gone. The panic that coursed through my veins at knowing she walked away so easily—that I didn’t mean enough for her to stay—was overwhelming. I wanted her to fight for me, but she walked away without ever looking back. Just like my dad. My heart shattered and I knew I’d never be whole again without her by my side. She left me a broken shell of the man I was. And still, I love her.
I love her with all of my heart.
Trying to steady my breathing, I sit down at my desk. With my heart breaking, I set out to do what I need to do—what she did weeks ago. I start my goodbye. With shaking hands, I turn my laptop on. A tear falls down my cheek and I make no attempt to stop it. I don’t want this, not for one second, but she left me no choice. I’m only doing what I have to so I can try to live some kind of life again. Any kind of life.
Adriana,
This is the last time I will bother you. I honestly thought you needed a week, maybe two, to see that I was serious about wanting to make us work, but I see now that you don’t want the same things. Thank you for being the amazing and beautiful woman that you are. I will remember you always, sweetness.
Love,
Tucker
I can’t write the word goodbye without completely obliterating my soul. What I wrote feels so wrong and it took me forever to figure out how to say it, but it was necessary. So, I send it off and pray that it makes a difference. But, I’m out of hope. My hour is up and I need to go pretend that I’m all better.
An actor’s job is never done.
Chapter Two
Adriana
Throwing my purse and keys on the counter, I smile. Stacy brought Jesse in for his yearly pictures and that boy’s smile—oh, how it can cure all of my hurts. Well, almost all of my hurts. As much as I enjoyed chatting with Stacy and laughing as Jesse acted like the clown he is, it didn’t stop me from missing Tucker.
And Alex.
Why is it I can’t think of one without the other?
Alahna must have sensed I wasn’t completely myself with Jesse because she sent me home after they left. She’s been doing that a lot since Tucker went back to Vancouver. I try so hard to hide how much it hurts without him here, but I don’t think I’m fooling anyone. I can’t force myself to smile, to laugh with my friends…to be happy in any way. I feel like all the light has been sucked out of my life and I’m surrounded in darkness. Again.
After losing Alex, I didn’t think it was possible to hurt this much again. I didn’t think I could care for someone enough to hurt this much. I was so wrong. Every minute without Tucker… it hurts to breathe. But, I’m doing this for him. I saw the pain I was causing him every night when I would leave his bed to go to mine to be with Alex, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was trying like Tucker asked me to, but I wasn’t ready to give up Alex. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
I’m still not.
I still talk to him every day. And, I feel guilty every time I tell him I miss Tucker. It’s strange. When Tucker was here, I felt guilty telling him too much about Alex. I felt guilty leaving him to be in my room where I could feel Alex. Now that Tucker’s gone—now that I let him go—I feel guilty because I miss him. I’m a damn mess.
Trying to shake off the feeling of melancholy that hovers over me every waking moment, I sit down for some lunch. I haven’t been able to eat at my dining room table since he’s been gone. I swear, there’s an ass print on my couch where I’ve taken up permanent residence, moping the hours away. I stare at the pickle spear on my plate. The sudden urge to throw the dish at the wall and smash everything around me taunts me. I want something to hurt as much as I do. My favorite foods are now reminders of the good I had for too short a time.
Pickles, that have been a favorite food since I was a child, bring tears to my eyes. Yet, every day at lunch, I put one on my plate. Most days, I don’t even take a bite. I just throw it away because the thought of eating something that he may be eating too, brings me to my knees. My once normal routine of having fresh squeezed OJ in the morning has been ruined, the oranges mocking my weakness. When I see them, I can only think of his lips—juice shining on them, tempting me. It’s all too much.
Some days, I barely eat. I know I’ve lost weight because of it, my friends have commented. I’m trying. Trying. How I hate that word. Isn’t that what got me into this mess in the first place? Tucker asked me to try and I was powerless to say no.
Why is that?
Because, somehow, he worked his way into my shattered heart. He made me feel; made me laugh when I thought there were only tears and sadness left in me. He made me love again. As much as it hurts to think it, I have to admit to myself that I was falling for him. I think I was falling in love with Tucker. That’s why I had to let him go. Loving someone means you protect them and do what’s best for them.
I’m not what’s best for him.
I’m broken. I’m lost. My heart will never fully be his. That isn’t fair to him. He’s full of so much kindness, even though he doesn’t see it in himself. He has this strength and love for others that shines through him, a need to take care of others. I saw it every day that he was with me. It took every fiber of my being to walk away from him. I wanted to run back, to beg him to stay. But, I knew. I knew he would have done just that. He would have stayed. He would have given up everything if I had asked…I would have never forgiven myself.
Throwi
ng away my hardly touched lunch, I grab my laptop and fire it up as I plop back down on my usual corner of the couch. As much as it hurts every time he tries to contact me, I still pray every day that I’ll have some kind of message from him. I need that to function. I need to know that he’s out there. I never respond because I’m trying to let him move on with his life. I won’t move on because I can’t go through the pain again, but I want him to be happy.
Logging into Facebook, I see I have a message. Butterflies flutter through my stomach and I wonder if it’s from him. Elation and sadness swarm me when I open my inbox. It’s the same mixed feelings I get every time. It’s been a month and he still finds ways to contact me every day, sometimes several times a day. I thought he would have moved on by now. So many times I’ve almost caved and called him, texted, replied to a PM, but somehow I muster the strength to stay silent. He has no idea how his words of tenderness kill me.
I stare at the screen, willing myself to open the message. I always have to prepare myself mentally and emotionally. He’s not here, but his presence fills the air around me with the words he sends and that makes me miss him so much more. I wish I were stronger. I wish this didn’t hurt so much.
Closing my eyes one last time, I take a deep breath to help steady my nerves. With shaking hands, I click the message open. What a mistake.
Adriana,
This is the last time I will bother you. I honestly thought you needed a week, maybe two, to see that I was serious about wanting to make us work, but I see now that you don’t want the same things. Thank you for being the amazing and beautiful woman that you are. I will remember you always, sweetness.
Love,
Tucker
P.S. Listen to this song. It says everything I can’t. You know I’m not good at pretty words.
A Great Big World, Say Something.
He’s not going to send any more messages. He won’t bother me anymore. Oh God, he attached a song. I know this song.
