After Math

by Denise Grover Swank

  “I’m here,” I whisper with a soft smile.

  He props on an elbow. The fingertips of his other hand glide across my breast.

  I gasp.

  His eyes search my face while a smile lifts his mouth. His fingers continue their dance, driving me crazy with want. I close my eyes and moan.

  His voice is low and husky. “I love your little sounds. I love that I can do this to you.”

  I open my eyes and heave a breath. “Only you, Tucker. You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel this way.”

  His mouth is on mine, hot and hungry. I wrap my arm around his back, pulling him closer. The need for him outweighs everything else. There’s only Tucker and me, everything else fades away. His head lifts, and he stares into my face with such love and adoration that tears spring to my eyes.

  He shifts and leans over to his nightstand, grabbing a condom from the drawer. After he puts it on, he moves between my legs, hooking a hand under one of my thighs and pulling it up to his waist. He enters me slowly, and I arch my back with a low guttural sound. I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I want Tucker right now. He finds a slow rhythm, and I’m climbing, needing more.

  I reach for his waist, my hands sliding up his sides, to his back and he quickens his pace. I open my eyes and find him watching me, the same look of adoration and longing. Our eyes are locked as my body ascends to heights it’s never reached before, never knew existed. “Tucker.”

  “There’s only you, Scarlett. Only you.”

  My eyes sink closed as the onslaught of sensations bombards every nerve ending in my body until I’m only aware of Tucker above me, pushing me higher and higher, and this desperate craving for more. When I’m so high I don’t think I’ll ever find my way back, I shatter into a million pieces, plummeting to earth. But Tucker’s here, catching every sliver and putting me back together, but not into the person I was.

  I’m someone new.

  Afterward, I lay in his arms, the steady rise and fall of his chest against my cheek, and I’m amazed. I never thought I could feel so content. So happy.

  We fall asleep in our cocoon of peace. I’m dreaming about Tucker and the way his eyes twinkle when he smiles, when a ringing jars me from my sleep. I rouse enough to realize the sound is Tucker’s phone.

  We’re a tangle of limbs and sheets, so he has trouble rolling to the side of the bed and reaching his jeans. When he pulls the phone out of his pocket, he checks the screen and fear fills his eyes. He sits upright, swinging his feet to touch the floor as he answers.

  “Yeah.” He listens, then hunches over his knees. “No.” Pain fills his voice.

  I sit upright, worried.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” He breaks into a sob. “For God’s sake, don’t do it.” After few seconds he hangs up and tosses his phone on his table.

  I reach for his shoulder. “Tucker?”

  Tears streak down his face, and he struggles to catch his breath. “Someone I know is in trouble.”

  Climbing to my knees, I pull him into a hug and stroke the back of his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all my fault.”

  “How could it be your fault, Tucker? You’ve been with me.”

  He leans back and stares into my face. He looks so shattered that my heart breaks for him. “You don’t understand.”

  I caress his cheek. “Then help me understand.”

  He shakes his head, determination replacing some of his agony. “No. I can’t.”

  “Tucker, you don’t have to do this alone. Let me help you. Let me in.”

  He pulls away from me and stands. “I can’t, Scarlett.”

  I watch his shoulders shake with the tears he tries to suppress and I wonder how much progress we’ve made after all. He’s with me, but he won’t share what’s bothering him, and he’s pushing me away in the process. I know I can’t expect him to change overnight, but I also know we’ll never really be close if he’s hiding things from me. “Do you need to do anything? Do you need to go anywhere?”

  He closes his eyes, and shakes his head, pressing his palm into his forehead.

  “Is it Marcel?”

  He turns to face me, rage in his eyes. “How do you know about Marcel?”

  I resist the urge to shrink away from his anger and instead hold my ground. “You told me, Tucker. The night I found you punching the Dumpster. You told me that Marcel was your brother, and whatever he was doing was your fault.”

  Horror washes over his face, and he sits on the edge of the bed. “Did you tell anyone?”

  I scrunch my forehead in confusion. “Who would I tell?”

  “I don’t know. Caroline? Your friend in the math lab? You didn’t answer my question, Scarlett. Did you tell anyone?”

  I don’t understand why his brother is a big secret, but he’s obviously agitated. “No. I didn’t tell anyone.” Then I remember my conversation with Jason. “Wait.”

  His panic-filled eyes shoot to my face.

  “I mentioned him to Jason, but he didn’t know who he was.”

  Tucker bounces off the bed to his feet and paces, rubbing the back of his head. “You told Jason?” He turns to me. “When did you talk to Jason?”

  His swinging pendulum of emotions scares me, but not for my physical safety. “He came to see me in the math lab earlier this week. He told me to end things with you. That I was distracting you.”

  “And you didn’t tell me this?”

  I shake my head, my breath sticking in my chest. “You and I weren’t exactly speaking then. You’d made it clear you weren’t interested in me. I didn’t see the point. There was nothing to end.”

  “How did Marcel come up in the conversation?” His voice is cold.

  I pull the sheet up to my chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “Jason told me he was your brother so I asked him if I could expect a visit from Marcel next.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What did he say?”

  “He asked me who Marcel was.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  Anger burns in my chest. I feel sorry for Tucker and the pain he’s in, but he doesn’t have the right to treat me like this. “No. I didn’t answer him.”

  He nods.

  “So is Jason your brother?”

  Tucker glares.

  Resentment and disappointment threaten to swallow me whole. I slide my feet to the edge of the bed.

  “Where are you going?”

  I grab my panties on the floor and step into them, keeping my back to Tucker. I’m exposed enough without having him see me naked right now.

  He grabs my shoulders from behind, his fingers digging into my flesh with his tight grip. “Where are you going, Scarlett?”

  Jerking from his grasp, I reach for my bra and slip it over my arms, fastening the back before I turn to face Tucker. “Home.”

  “Why?” Pain fills his voice again. “You’re leaving me?”

  “Tucker.” Tears clog my throat. “I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, but you can’t even share something as simple as who your brother is. If you don’t trust me enough to tell me about your family, then this isn’t going to work.”

  His eyes narrow with anger. “So you’re running away from me.”

  I step into my skirt, tears blinding my vision. “No, Tucker. You’re the one running away from me.”

  “You’re the only person I see leaving.”

  I can’t find my shirt and then I remember Tucker took it off when we came home to his apartment last night. How did everything change so quickly? My chest shakes with a sob. I look up into his face. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you, but you have to open up to me, Tucker. Give me one thing. Just one thing, and I’ll stay.”

  He turns to the side.

  “Who’s Marcel? Why do you think it’s your fault?”

  His eyes close, and his chest rises and falls.

  “Who is Jason? Why do
you have different last names?”

  His hands fist at his sides.

  “Tucker. Please.” I wonder how fair this is. He’s clearly upset, and I’m pushing him to do something that he’s uncomfortable doing. But he needs me, and the only way I can help him is if he lets me in.

  “Jason is my foster brother from my last family.” He sits on the side of the bed, defeated. “We have different last names because my foster family didn’t adopt me. Jason lives with me here.”

  I sit next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulder. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Don’t leave me, Scarlett.” He chokes on the words.

  Tears stream down my face, and I brush the tears off his. “I’m here.”

  He turns and kisses me, his hands grabbing my cheeks. “But for how long?”

  I stare into his guarded eyes. I can’t answer. I’m surprised he doesn’t realize he’s the one who has the answer to his question.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jason is gone for the weekend, so I spend most of Sunday with Tucker, but he’s reserved, which is understandable given the fact someone close to him is in trouble. But Tucker seems raw and wounded, and I wonder if he needs to spend some time alone. He takes me home by mid-afternoon, only because I insist I need to study.

  Caroline is frantic with worry when I walk in the door. “Where have you been?”

  “I told you…” My voice trails off as I realize I only told her someone was bringing me home. I close my eyes. “Caroline, I’m sorry.”

  “Where were you?” Anger replaces her worry.

  I’m silent. She has every right to be upset with me. How could I be so thoughtless and careless?

  Her eyes narrow. “You were with Tucker.” Her words are clipped.

  “Caroline…”

  “Don’t.” She shakes her head. “Just don’t.”

  I spend the rest of the afternoon in my room, studying and feeling miserable. Isn’t falling in love supposed to be wonderful and magical? Am I doing it wrong? Leave it to me to screw this up, too.

  Caroline’s chilly attitude thaws by early evening, but we don’t talk about it, pretending that the incident never happened. We snuggle under an afghan and watch several episodes of Gossip Girl, my apology gift to her. For the first time, I realize the show isn’t just about a bunch of rich kids, but the pain and turmoil they experience as they fumble their way through figuring out who they are and what they want. Their lifestyle is only expensive window dressing. Turns out rich kids struggle with the same things the rest of us do.

  We’re between episodes, and she gets up to get the ice cream container and two spoons. When she sits, she hands me a spoon then digs into the container of rocky road.

  “I worry about you, you know,” she says, focusing her attention on her spoon. “You’re the closest thing I have to a sister. I just want you to be happy.”

  “Thanks, Caroline.” I lay my head on her shoulder.

  “I won’t say anything else about Tucker. If you want to see him, I won’t stand in your way, and when it all crashes and burns, I won’t say I told you so. But ask yourself this: does Tucker make you happy or does he make you more miserable than you were before?”

  Her question meanders through my head the rest of the evening. When I’m with Tucker, it feels so right, but when we’re apart, the doubts begin to creep in.

  I’m in my room studying when the doorbell rings.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Caroline shouts from the bathroom.

  “No.”

  I get up and go to the front door, looking through the peephole. Tucker stands outside the door, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets.

  I open the door, and we stare at each other.

  He’s been running, but it’s drizzling outside and his clothes are wet. His mouth is turned down, and he looks miserable. His lips open, and he hesitates before he finally speaks. “I lived in six foster homes. I was at my last one four and a half years. I don’t like libraries because one of my families would make me sit in a room full of books for hours on end, insisting I read. They give me claustrophobia now.”

  Tears spring to my eyes. He’s trying to open up. “Thank you.”

  He’s still standing outside the door, his hands still buried. “I’m not the only one with secrets, Scarlett. You have plenty of your own.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” My chin trembles. What can I tell him? My past is tucked inside a vault. I sort through my neatly filed baggage. “My sister is three years younger than me. She dropped out of high school when she got pregnant at fifteen. She lives in a trailer in the same trailer park I spent the first eighteen years of my life.”

  He reaches for me, and I take a step toward him, my bare toes curling on the cold concrete outside the door. His face lowers and his mouth hovers over mine. “I miss you, Scarlett,” he whispers.

  “I miss you, too,” I whisper back.

  His lips are soft and gentle, and his hand softly caresses my cheek.

  I sigh as the now-familiar sensation of peace fills me with his touch. Taking his hand, I pull him inside.

  Caroline pads down the hall in her robe and stops when she realizes that Tucker is standing in our living room.

  “Hey, Caroline,” Tucker says with a hesitant smile.

  Her mouth parts, and she takes a step back.

  His weight shifts, and he looks uncomfortable. “I know you’re worried that I’ll hurt Scarlett. I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you.”

  Her eyes widen, and she turns to me.

  “Scarlett didn’t say anything.” Tucker adds. “But I know you’re friends, so of course you’d be worried about her.”

  Caroline tries to look indignant, but she’s having a hard time since Tucker is being so blunt. “You have to admit you have a reputation of leaving girls strewn in your wake.”

  “I know, but Scarlett is different. I won’t hurt her if I can help it.”

  She lifts an eyebrow. “If you can help it?”

  “I can’t promise I won’t hurt her, Caroline. Nobody can. But I promise to do my best not to.”

  She’s not sure how to respond.

  “I plan to be around a lot. I hope you and I can get along.”

  Caroline lifts her chin. “I guess that depends on you. If you hurt her, I’ll cut your balls off and shove them up your ass.”

  I gasp, but Tucker bursts out laughing. “Fair enough.”

  “Then we might just get along.” Caroline spins around and stomps off to her room.

  Tucker grins at me. “I like her.”

  I’ve never loved her more. “Me, too.”

  “What were you doing when I showed up?”

  I smirk. “You have to ask?”

  “We have a history test this week. We could study together.”

  I can’t help smiling. “I’d like that.”

  I get my textbook and notes and we sit next to each other on the sofa, going over my notes. Lifting my eyebrows, I give him a playful glare. “I think I see the reason you’re with me now. You just want my notes.”

  He kisses me long and slow, then grins against my lips. “Damn. You saw through my devious plan.”

  I kiss him back. “I like it.”

  After we’ve studied for thirty minutes, it’s obvious that history comes more easily to Tucker than math. When I mention it, he shrugs. “Why do you think I’m majoring in it?”

  I tilt my head to study him. “You’re serious?”

  He sighs. “Look, I have to get good grades to keep my scholarship and stay on the soccer team. So my parents insisted that I majored in something that I’m good at. The fact is, I might not even come back for my senior year. There’s an agent who wants to sign me and work on getting me signed pro a year early.”

  “An agent?”

  He chuckles. “I told you I was good.”

  “You’d really quit school to go pro? What about your education?”

  “If I can make enough money
playing professional soccer, then I don’t need an education.”

  “But is that what you really want to do? You don’t even love soccer that much.”

  He turns serious. “I lived most of my life with nothing. I have a chance at something.”

  He’s shared more of himself. Granted, it’s not much, but it’s something. I understand having nothing, but I can’t help wondering if Tucker is selling his soul just for the chance of having more. “I still don’t understand why you can’t major in what you want, in case your professional soccer plans fall through. You want to major in education. You’d be fantastic at it.”

  He pushes me backward on the sofa and leans over me, kissing my neck. “I told you already, Scarlett.”

  I laugh. “I almost forgot Mr. Beckham.”

  He pins my hands to my sides. “Oh. Insulting my soccer skills, huh?” A wicked look fills his eyes. “Have you even seen me play?”

  My voice lowers, and I grin. “Oh, I’ve seen you play.”

  His mouth gapes, then he laughs. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  No one is more surprised than I am that I have a playful side. I stretch up to kiss him.

  He releases my arms and his hand slides down my neck to the exposed area on my chest above my oversize t-shirt. “I want to study something else.”

  “I thought you loved history.”

  He turns serious. “Maybe I love something else more.”

  My smile falls as I wonder what he means by that, but he kisses me until I’m breathless and forget everything but Tucker.

  ***

  On Monday morning, Tucker is the one meeting me after my set and logic class. He’s waiting outside The Higher Ground and kisses me as though he hasn’t seen me for days instead of only a few hours.

  “I missed you,” he says.

  “I missed you, too.” I’m surprised I mean it. I’m so used to being alone, it scares me how attached to him I’ve already become.

  We go inside and sit after we order coffee. “Tucker, I’m going to cancel our official tutoring sessions.”

  His eyes widen. “Why?”

  “It’s not right, for one thing. The university is paying me to tutor you, and it seems a conflict of interest since we’re…” The blood rushes to my cheeks. “Together.”