Page 18 of Fierce Love (Tucker Billionaires)

Chapter Fourteen

Hollyn

Fourteen years ago

A t my insistence, we’ve stayed in areas of Tucker’s Town and the island that make me most comfortable.

We avoid the rich areas. We also avoid the places my parents and their associates hang out.

Whatever this is can’t last, and I’m happy to keep shunning reality, all the reasons we can’t work.

We both know what this is—a summer fling.

For a fling—so far, a sexless fling—he’s been very committed. From the minute he showed up at the bar the second time, there’s been no cooling off, no game-playing to see if I’ll chase him instead.

I’ve seen him every night for the last two weeks.

If he’s not sitting in the bar while I work and then driving off with me at the end of the night, he’s at my apartment door, begging me to come out with him.

He has absolutely zero shame in literally begging through the speaker when my aunt isn’t home, and it’s probably the most adorable thing any guy has ever done for me.

Any hint of cautiousness on my part only seems to make his behavior more extravagant.

He thinks I’m trying to hide us, and I am, but not for whatever reason he probably thinks.

Tonight, we’re headed to a coffee shop that’s open twenty-four hours in the heart of the working poor neighborhood where I live.

I’ve tried to avoid any place where people might be familiar, might notice me with Nate.

My aunt was right—if my parents see him, realize that I’m with him—I might lead myself into trouble I don’t want.

It’s late enough after my shift at the bar that the coffee shop is mostly empty. Nate holds the door open for me as I enter, and while we’re standing in front of the counter, reading the options, Nate says, “I’m going to start calling you my girlfriend. Just so you know.”

“No, you’re not,” I say with a laugh of disbelief, and then I step up to the counter to order a bagel and a coffee.

He orders a coffee and a donut, and he hands over money before I can get mine out.

I don’t argue with him because being here is an extravagance I don’t normally allow myself.

I could get the same things for far less from a grocery store.

We take our food to the table that’s farthest from the counter.

“I knew if I asked you, you’d say no, so I’m telling you instead.” Nate takes a seat across from me.

“That’s not how labeling a relationship works,” I say, sliding right back into the conversation.

“You agree that we’re in a relationship then.”

“Maybe no one ever told you before, but you’re not supposed to make your hookups your permanent side chicks.”

“You’re not a side chick.” His neck flushes with the heat of his frustration. “You’re the only chick. You’re it. Just you.”

“That’s not smart, Nate.” I poke out the glob of cream cheese stuck in the middle of my bagel, but I don’t take a bite.

“It’s better if we don’t make a big deal about whatever this is.

” I gesture between us with my index finger.

“We’re a ‘just for now’ thing, and that’s okay.

I’m not offended. You’re at the private school, and I’m a public-ed kid.

You could have five girlfriends at school and then me on the side. I’m not asking questions.”

“Ask me any question you want, but if you think there’s anyone but you, you’re delusional.

I spend every single free minute I have outside debate club and lacrosse with you.

You’re it. There is no one else. There will never be anyone else.

It’s wild to me that you’d even say that it’s possible for me to be with anyone else.

What haven’t I told you that you need to hear?

Once school is out for the summer, I’ll be totally focused on you—no other distractions. ”

“Not a good idea,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’m going to school in New York, and you’re going to California. We’ll be on opposite coasts. It doesn’t make sense for us to be together.”

“Once I turn eighteen in October, I’ll have access to the family trust. I can fly to New York on the family jet, or I can book myself a ticket.

I can book you a ticket to California, or we can both fly home.

Your distance reason is bullshit, and I’m not accepting it.

” He takes a big bite of his donut and throws the rest down on the plate for emphasis.

“High school relationships don’t survive college.”

“Says who?”

“There’s lots of examples.” Not one will come to my mind, but I know it’s a thing—high school relationships and college don’t mix. It’s a known fact.

“None of those people were us.” He meets my gaze with determination. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life than I am about my future with you. I won’t let anything come between us.”

Everything inside of me turns to mush, and then butterflies, somehow, sprout out of the goo to flutter around my stomach, up into my throat, making it hard for me to speak.

“Nate,” I whisper, my throat closing up and tears filling my eyes.

No one has ever put me first, put me so far out in front of their lives that I’m the number one priority above all else.

“I know you’ve wanted to keep us quiet, but I’m tired of it.

I want to shout about you from the roof, across the city, out into the ocean and see if I can make my joy felt all the way over in America or Europe.

” He slides back his chair and stands on top of it before glancing down at me and stepping onto the table.

“Everyone! Everyone! Can I have your attention, please?”

I’m too embarrassed to look around the coffee shop to see who’s entered, but I get out of my chair, and I tug on the hem of Nate’s shirt. “Get down,” I say.

“I, Nathaniel Jonathan Tucker, love Hollyn Noelle Davis with my whole fucking heart. I’m going to marry this girl one day. Anyone else who thinks they might have a chance will have to come through me. I’m not giving her up.”

There’s a smattering of whooping and cheering, but I refuse to look at anyone but him. My face is on fire, and I cup my cheeks, hoping the coolness of my hands will bring some relief. But my heart is warm and glowing. Did he really just do that?

When he steps down, I grab his hand and head for the exit, keeping my head down and tugging him along behind me.

“Nathaniel Tucker,” I say as soon as we’re out the door, “what in the world—”

His mouth is on mine, and his hands are in my hair, and he’s backed me up against the cool brick of the building.

I slide my hands up his back, and I kiss him back with the same intensity.

No one has ever done anything like that for me before, and all the warring feelings inside of me might burst out if I don’t keep my lips and mouth engaged in something else.

I can’t fall in love with a Tucker, no matter how wonderful he might seem.

I’m a realist, and nothing about this relationship is real or permanent.

“I love you,” he says when we break apart, his fingers gentle along my jawline, his forehead pressed to mine. “I love you so fucking much, Hols. It feels like I was always meant to love you.”

Instead of saying it back, I tug him into another kiss, wrapping myself around him, trying to pour all the feelings I refuse to say into the movement of our lips, the close connection of our bodies.

I’ve always known my aunt loved me—that’s not even a question—but her love is complicated by her loyalty and love for my mother.

Aunt Verna’s love is unconditional, but that love has always felt inextricably bound to my mom.

She loves me as much because I am Mickie’s daughter as because I’m Hollyn, and that reality has never sat easy on my shoulders.

But I still owe Aunt Verna every ounce of happiness I’ve ever felt—all those moments are connected to her.

What Nate is offering me, what he’s giving me without asking for anything in return, is something I’ve never had.

Joyful love. Love without strings. Love without a painful history.

A love that can exist outside my warped family structure.

The chance to be loved completely and totally because of who I am and not whom I belong to.

And as much as I don’t want it, as much as I think I’m a fool to even consider it, I might already be in love with him too.

The thought is terrifyingly big, a song whose lyrics are being sung at full volume in my heart as our kiss goes on and on.

You’re the one. You’re the one. There will never be another one .

Meeting him that first night was a lightning bolt straight to the core of my being, and I fear I’ll never be the same again.