Page 27

TUCKER

E verything had changed.

I wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse, but Josh had shed a piece of his armor—and let me see the horrors he kept tucked so close to his chest. It pained me to know that he was keeping all those secrets to himself, and for so long.

I had shed the weight of shame, at least in the face of Josh.

I hadn’t picked up my phone for anyone in my family since the news broke, and with Sunday quickly approaching, the knot in my chest grew tighter with every passing hour. But I did my best to focus on our team and the way Josh’s lips felt against mine.

Noah Hudson got a ten game suspension, Josh got two. Reyes filled in for the next two pre-season games—we won, but they were hard-fought and the field felt unbalanced without Josh.

Which is odd because two months ago I would have died on my ‘ I hate Joshua Logan’ hill. But now he was sitting in the dining room with his nose in a book, the cut on his cheek finally less irritated and completely unaware that I was staring at him from across the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t you be making dinner?” Cael whispered to me and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“I thought you were at Clem’s?” I looked over at him and he shrugged.

“Everyone has to come up for air sometime. I was getting homesick,” he said, leaning his head back with a smile. The peach fuzz on his scalp was growing in, and I just knew it was because Clementine had flipped out about the impromptu haircut.

“Homesick?” I shook my head and pushed on his shoulder. “Or nosy?”

“I’m hurt,” he feigned offense and turned to the fridge. “What are you making anyway?”

I ignored him and watched the way Josh balanced his pen on his fingers as he cross referenced something in his notes. He needed a laptop, it had been a long time since I saw anyone do notes with a pen and paper but I was scared to ask him.

Scared to offer mine.

“Something happened…” Cael slid up onto the counter, his thigh brushing against my shoulder, and he leaned down, blocking my view of Josh with a stupid smile.

“You’re being annoying again,” I grumbled.

“Annoying is my middle name, big boy.”

“I thought it was ‘ I’m bored ,’” I shot back.

Cael laughed but looked over his shoulder at an oblivious Josh.

“He’s doing better,” Cael said quietly. “Thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do anything, he just likes to be left alone and if that’s what works then whatever,” I dismissed Cael’s gratitude and praise.

“Yeah, ‘cause he risked a suspension over you because he likes to be left alone…” Cael scoffed. “Big, dumb, and pretty,” he sang under his breath, and I looked up at him. “You did that.”

I shrugged.

“Josh craves violence; he would have gotten in a fight that game over anything,” I said.

My skin shivered thinking about how rough he loved.

I shifted at the island, stretching out my arms across it and rolling out my back to hide my sexual frustration from my best friend.

Cael tsked and tugged on one of the curls near my ear.

“The last person I saw go full doberman was Arlo, on Nicholas the day he hurt Ella.” Cael’s voice was quiet and serious. “He didn’t attack Hudson for fun, Deano…”

“Did he tell you why he left Lorette?” I asked Cael, who just shook his head at me.

I couldn’t tell if I liked being the bearer of that secret or hated it.

“Can you two stop staring at me?” Josh set down his pen and turned his head to look at us in the kitchen. “You’re five feet away, I can hear every word you’re saying.”

Cael snorted, but I turned six shades of red, dropping my forehead to the counter.

“How’s the hand?” Cael asked as Josh wandered into the kitchen and crossed his arms slowly at the other end of the island.

“Fine,” Josh huffed.

Blue eyes flickered between Josh and me, gauging our body language before he slipped from the counter and backed away.

“I thought you were hungry?” I said, my voice begging him to stay and fill the awkward silence that would no doubt fall over the kitchen the moment he left.

“Yeah…” he looked over at Josh and back at me with a suspicious look on his face. “I’m going to go crawl back to Clem, Josh has murder eyes and that’s your problem now!”

Before I could argue, Cael was gone, slipping from the back door of the Nest out into the warming spring air. Fuck.

“Honestly, I’m surprised he doesn’t get punched more ,” Josh said with a tight smile.

“Yeah, I think about that every day,” I shook my head and tried to recover from how embarrassed I felt. “About the conversation…”

“You’re the captain, he’s your best friend, you’re allowed to talk about the team with him…” Josh shrugged like it didn’t bother him.

“The team, right.” I nodded. My fingers twitched at my side, filled with the urge to close the gap. I needed something to do with my hands. I wasn’t sure where we stood after the entire conversation and the fight, we hadn’t… kissed again but we also hadn’t really spoken.

Josh was either asleep or gone by the time I crawled out of bed most mornings and he was so focused on school that all his spare time outside the stadium was spent studying. But now he was standing in front of me, those dark brown eyes waiting for me to make a move but I couldn’t because I wasn’t sure what move to make.

“You know, I don’t think I ever asked you what you were studying?” I asked him, just trying to break the tension.

“It’s stupid,” he dismissed it and I stared at him until he broke. “I want to be a social worker,” he confessed. That was a surprise, I figured he would pick something that made him money… Money meant the ability to leave, to feel respected. Social work was exhausting, it was hard work and it hit close to home.

“That’s cool, Josh,” I said, surprised.

He eyed me trying to figure out if I was being serious or not before he nodded gently. "It’s how I make a difference, maybe if I can learn how to prevent what happened to me, I can stop it from happening to other kids.”

It was brave, selfless.

“You surprise me every day,” I said. He swallowed tightly, the silence stretching over us again. I don’t know why small talk felt so hard between us now. It was like the kiss had broken down a boundary, and now we didn’t know what to do with ourselves.

“What are you making for dinner?” He asked, cutting through the silence.

I looked around the kitchen, realizing I’d have to run into town—we were completely out of real food. The cupboards were empty except for some fruit and junk food. I chewed on my tongue and tried to ignore the way I wanted to have a different conversation with him, one that wasn’t about baseball or dinner.

I just needed a minute where someone wasn’t expecting something from me.

“Sundaes,” I declared and plastered a smile on my face. “Put a sweater on, it’s still chilly outside.” I pointed to his light t-shirt and grabbed my keys from the hook by the back door.

Josh stared at me for a second before grabbing his hoodie and following me out to the garage. I could feel his judgmental smile between my shoulder blades when I wandered around to the passenger side and opened his door for him. My fingers gripped the frame as he climbed in quietly, hauling the hoodie over his shoulders and messing up his chocolate curls. I wanted to put my fingers in them, to remind myself of how soft they can be even when Josh is so hardened and angry. The feelings were so contradictory and yet…

“What?” He snapped, but there was a hint of softness to the angry question.

I wanted to say nothing, to brush off the way I felt every time I looked at him lately, but I couldn’t ignore the feelings that coursed through me.

“Promise not to punch me?” I asked him with a smile that clearly made him nervous because he cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on me.

“Nope,” he said. I should have expected that response.

“It’s worth it anyways.” I shrugged slightly. "You look cute when your hair is messy, those days when you forget a hat.”

Josh’s cheeks flushed with color, and he grumbled something under his breath before grabbing the door handle and shutting the door on my face.

“At least it wasn’t a punch,” I chuckled as I walked to the driver's side.

“Push this,” I said, handing him the cart and walking ahead of him into the grocery store. Josh leaned over the bar of the shopping cart and lazily walked along behind me. Every so often, I’d turn around to see if he was still following me in his hoodie and jeans, mindlessly looking around at the shelves.

It was odd to see Josh in such a mundane light.

“What are we here for again?” He asked as we circled into the freezer section.

“Ice cream, sprinkles, toppings, syrup…lots of syrup.” I opened the door and grabbed a pail of vanilla and a pail of chocolate before tossing them both into the cart.

“You really are an overgrown child, aren’t you, Tuck?” He asked.

“Are you gonna look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t like ice cream?” I asked him and grabbed a pail of strawberry, just in case.

“I don’t like ice cream.” He shrugged.

“Liar, you’re a tiny bundle of angry lies.” I put my hands in the air.

“Get it off your chest.” Josh laughed, and his smile was bright across his face.

“Are you laughing at me right now?” I said, leading the cart toward the candy aisle.

“You’re not preparing for war, Tuck. You’re shopping for candy to feed a championship college baseball team ice cream sundaes for dinner…” he followed closely, and the sound of him teasing was warm and familiar. I missed it. The mockery. He had been so tense and quiet for the last few days, hearing the ridicule back in his voice and seeing the smugness back on his face made me feel better about everything.

“Don’t diminish the sundaes, tough guy. Just because you don’t know how to have fun doesn’t mean you can make everyone else miserable!” I called out and collected a few bags of candy into my arms. “Catch.” I tossed them in the direction of the cart, and Josh zig-zagged to catch them all.

“I’m not making anyone miserable,” he groaned as he walked closer.

“Me, I’m miserable.”

Josh rolled his eyes. “Yah, you look real miserable, Tuck.”

“You know I hate when you call me that, right?” I reminded him, and he just shrugged. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”

“It makes your ears turn red,” Josh said, and for a moment I thought he was teasing me, but then I turned to look at him again with a bag of marshmallows in my hands. There was a genuine smile on his face, and the urge to kiss him returned, even after trying so hard to push it down.

“Can’t be worse than Franklin,” I sighed.

“You have a point,” Josh laughed and took the marshmallows from me. “The banana ones,” he said, pointing at a hot pink bag that contained those synthetic chewy banana marshmallows. “What’s with Franklin anyways?”

I chucked him the banana candy and sighed. “It’s my grandpa’s name. I think they meant me to be more Prince William and less Prince Harry.”

Josh’s face scrunched up. "What?”

“So everyone else is allowed to make obscure pop culture references but I’m not?” I groaned.

“Well, they make ones about Star Wars… you’re talking about the royal family…” Josh laughed loudly. "Sorry, sorry.” He put his hands in the air, mocking surrender when I glared at him. “Never took you as a Queen Elizabeth junkie,” Josh teased.

I turned away from him so he couldn’t see the enjoyment that flashed across my face at the randomness of the conversation. It felt unforced and normal. Nothing like anything we’d done before.

“So why do you know so much about them?” he teased.

“Knowing the difference between Diana’s sons hardly makes me an expert.” I avoided his intense stare, searching the shelves for more candy.

“Oh my god, it’s not the Royal family, you’re a fucking Downton Abbey dork!”

“Lower your voice.” I chucked a bag of chocolate chips at him, and he caught it with a grunt.

“Admit it, Tuck!” He got louder. “You get riled up by those spoiled British brats!”

“They’re the Royal family, Joshua!” I scoffed. God, I loved that show.

“Ha!” Josh burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the aisle as I stepped closer and braced my hands on either side of the cart to stare him down. “I’ve never watched. It’s too much drama for me.”

“Seriously?” I huffed, realizing that I gave myself away.

“Say it,” he lowered his voice, and his lips pressed into a serious line. “ Please , Tuck.”

“I’m a Downton Abbey dork.” I caved the second the word left his lips and hated how easily he pried it from me.

“I’m surprised you weren’t disowned sooner.” His smile returned, along with the light in his eyes. He paused and then opened his mouth again. “Have you talked to them?”

“Uh…” I let go of a nervous breath, “no.”

“Why not?” He asked me as I dropped the syrups into the cart and led him to the fruit aisle.

“Saying it out loud didn’t make me more ready to be shunned.” I rolled my eyes and grabbed some bananas.

“It’s their loss, Tuck.” There was conviction in his voice that I wasn’t expecting but it made the breath catch in my throat.

“I have dinner with them tomorrow,” I said and grabbed a package of strawberries. “Fruit,” I shook it at him.

“Sundaes can be healthy,” he mocked me. “I forgot you guys have Sunday dinner rules,” he said in an almost sad voice.

“Ella will be home, Arlo usually doesn’t get far from her and I think he’d rather commit a serious crime then bring her over to his dads, so if you don’t have plans they'll take pity on you,” I explained.

Josh nodded but I could tell that the idea of family dinners on Sundays would eat at him. I couldn’t imagine he would be rushing back into Lorette to have dinner with his mother any time soon. It made me feel a little bad to leave him sitting at the Nest but I also wasn’t in the position to bring him to mine.

That would be like bringing spectators to my death.

“I think we have enough.” I looked over the cart, ignoring the guilt that ate at me. “Let’s get back before the ice cream melts."