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CHAPTER NINE

TUCKER

Sometimes with Jonah on my arm, it literally felt like the blind leading the blind. I couldn’t really blame him for his restaurant choices because it wasn’t exactly like he could check the aesthetics of the place, but he seemed to have a goddamn sixth sense for picking these intimate, low-light spots where I couldn’t see dick.

Luckily, the hostess was wearing a bright white shirt, and she was easy to follow. Unluckily, the chairs were almost the same brown as the carpet, so I knocked Jonah into them like four times.

“Here,” he said, shoving his cane at me.

I took it but didn’t use it and knocked him into a fifth chair.

“I’m going to literally jam the cane up your ass if you don’t use it,” he snarled.

I put it in front of me and managed to avoid the obstacle field that called itself an Italian restaurant until we got to our table.

“Your server will be with you shortly,” she said. I let Jonah go to find his own chair while I took mine. He and I snagged the window seats and left the one on the edge open for Ford, who was running late, according to his last text.

“Yo,” Jonah said, turning his head to the side.

The hostess paused and looked unsure.

“He’s talking to you. He’s just being an asshole about it,” I told her.

Jonah at least had the grace to look apologetic. “Can I get a braille menu?”

She looked a little startled. “A what?”

“Little bumpy dot things for blind people,” he said, waving his fingers in the air like he was reading it.

Her cheeks pinked. “Right. Um…”

“I called ahead, and the guy I spoke to said you keep them at the front,” Jonah told her.

She swallowed, then turned on her heel and hurried off.

“She left, didn’t she?” he asked, turning back to me.

“Yeah.” My sigh was probably too loud.

“Bets on whether or not she comes back?”

I glanced over, and from across the room, I could see her bright white shirt next to another bright white shirt, which meant she was probably frantically asking someone about the menus. “I don’t feel like losing more money.”

“Vegas wiped you out, huh?” He grinned, showing off a missing molar where he’d had it knocked out a few games ago. His hands felt around the table, and I knew he was looking for water.

“They didn’t bring anything over yet,” I told him. “And actually, it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Apart from acquiring a husband,” he pointed out, “and maybe possibly getting dicked down and not remembering.”

My neck heated. “As far as I’m aware, all we did was kiss—and no, I don’t remember that either. But there was no dicking of any kind.”

“Bummer, dude. You need it.”

“Flipping you off,” I told him as I did.

He cackled and swiped at my hand. “Seriously though, I told Micah about it, and he thinks it’s all really fucked-up. You could sue this guy.”

“For what? Also being drunk and listening to my terrible ideas?” The thought of making Amedeo’s life harder than it was made me want to barf all over my shoes. Or over Jonah’s. It wasn’t his fault, of course. He didn’t know that Amedeo was maybe the most adorable man who had ever lived, but it still made me irrationally angry at him.

“You always blame yourself,” he pointed out.

I let out the smallest sigh. “Yes, well. It’s usually my fault. And after meeting this guy?—”

“Whoa, what? Hold your fucking balls.”

“It’s hold the phone,” I corrected.

He ignored me. “You met him?” He slapped his hands down on the table. “And I’m just hearing about this…why?”

“Uh. It wasn’t any of your business?” I said.

Before I could go on, a tall woman with dark hair approached. It was too dim for me to make out details of her features, but I could see her holding a thick menu, and when she spoke, she sounded nervous.

“Braille menu?” She directed her question at me since most people thought I was the blind one. My cornea was scarred to hell, and everyone was surprised I could see anything out of it.

“That would be me, darlin’. Right here, thank you,” Jonah said, doing a little sensual pat on the space in front of him.

She swallowed heavily as she set it down. “Can I start drinks?”

“Scotch,” Jonah said.

“No. Do not give him scotch. Doing that is like giving a Mogwai food after midnight.” She shot me a confused stare. “It’ll turn him into a gremlin.”

Jonah grinned and shrugged.

“Three waters,” I said. “And the gremlin will have a sweet tea.”

She swallowed heavily again, said nothing, and nodded before walking off.

“I think you broke her,” Jonah said.

“No, you did. Stop doing your weird flirting for like ten seconds.”

He scoffed but set his hands on the menu and began to read. “Why didn’t you tell me this place was expensive,” he groaned.

“You picked it.” I held the menu up close to my face and scanned the appetizers. Jesus, seventeen bucks for calamari? “I’ll get soup and water.”

“Nah,” Jonah said. I felt a dull thud and realized he’d kicked my prosthetic shin. “It’s on me today. You came down with amnesia and got a random weirdo stranger for a husband who stalked you. You deserve a nice meal.”

I hated that he was technically right. I had alcohol-induced amnesia, even though that was my fault. And Amedeo was random and a little weird, but that was part of his charm. I had no business crushing on him, but it was hard to help it.

God, I kind of missed him. We were supposed to be together today, but his work had him canceling on me, and I felt a little rejected. I believed him, but a small, quiet, ugly part of my brain kept saying it was a lie. That he was just making excuses not to see me again.

My phone buzzed loudly, interrupting my spiral, and I held it close to my eye to read the name on the screen. “It’s Ford.” I didn’t bother reading it. He was a huge stickler for not texting and driving, so I knew if he was texting, he had to be in the parking lot. “He’s here.”

“Took him long enough,” Jonah grumbled.

The server appeared right then with drinks and set them down without a word. The only real mistake she’d made so far.

“Tea is at your two o’clock. Water is beside that,” I told him.

He pulled a face as his fingers settled over one line of braille. “Why do they do that?” It was rhetorical, so I didn’t answer him. “Anyway, I think I’m gonna carbo-load for the game tonight. Oh, which reminds me. This is a bribery lunch.”

I stared at him. “Uh? What could you possibly need to bribe me for?”

“A job.”

“You have a job. You literally work with me.”

He scoffed and folded his hands under his chin. “Am I giving you puppy dog eyes?”

I squinted. “Sure.”

He grinned. “Great. I want you to be the new coach for the Legends.” The Legends, meaning his team. His professional para-hockey team. With a professional salary and everything.

I made the mistake of taking a drink when he asked that, and I spit water all over my front. “What happened to Reid?”

Reid had been the Legends’ coach for as long as I’d been around. He was a good guy—he’d been in the AHL until a well-timed puck at a practice clocked him across the rink when he wasn’t wearing a helmet. His blindness was cortical and took him out of the running of ever getting picked up by the NHL.

But he understood the game better than most people.

“He and his wife are having fucking triplets, bro. Three babies. They’re moving to be closer to her parents so they don’t throw themselves into the sun when all three of them get that…crying disease. Cholera?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not called that,” I said, though I didn’t know anything about baby crying diseases. “And shit. That sucks.”

“Yeah, but it could be worse. I put your name in, and Reid thinks it’s a great idea.”

I grimaced. “Dude, I don’t—” I didn’t get the chance to tell him I thought it wasn’t the best idea because I was not as great vertically on skates as I wanted to be, because right then, Ford walked in.

And he wasn’t alone.

I couldn’t see much in the low light, but for some reason, I knew he was with Amedeo. Maybe it was the way he was slouched. Or how the wild, dark spot above him was his hair. Or maybe I’d developed some superpower where I could just sense him.

Whatever the case, I went totally silent, and my heart began beating like a snare drum against the inside of my ribs.

“Hello? Did you just fucking leave?” Jonah almost knocked his tea over as he reached for me. I squeezed his wrist to let him know I was still there while I figured out how to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.

“Ford’s here.”

“And? Why do you sound like you just took a hockey stick up the ass?”

Of course he had to say that right as Ford and Amedeo made it to the table. He—my husband, my fake husband—looked terrified and unsure.

“Hi. I brought a friend,” Ford said cheerfully. “Tuck, I believe you know your wayward spouse.”

Jonah’s entire body lit up, and he turned toward Ford’s voice. “I’m sorry. You brought him? Are you serious?”

Amedeo swallowed thickly. “Um. I can go, if?—”

“No!” Without thinking, I leaned over and seized his wrist, tugging him down to the chair. “Sit.”

He did, his knees collapsing as if on my command. Helpless, I looked over at Ford, who shot me an amused glance and settled next to Jonah, leaning over to kiss him on the temple.

“Hi, babe.”

“Tell. Me. Everything ,” Jonah breathed out.

Amedeo looked totally panicked, but before anyone could say anything, the server appeared again with another menu.

“Extra guest?”

“Sorry, I can—” Amedeo started again.

“Yes, please,” I interrupted quickly.

She set it down, then looked nervously at Jonah before saying very loudly, “Do you need help with your menu, sir?”

He flinched and immediately knew she was talking to him. “You know, I am curious about a couple things.”

“Of course. You, ah…you’re—” Her voice was still so fucking loud. “You’re legally blind, right?”

Jonah’s hand flew up in a stopping motion as Ford smirked. “Holy shit, be quiet! Come here. Quickly,” he told her, waving her over frantically. “I don’t have much time.”

Oh God. Here we go. I looked over at Amedeo and saw his face full of trepidation.

The server hurried behind Ford and bent closer to Jonah. “I’m here.”

“Okay,” Jonah said, leaning back and cupping the side of his mouth like he was telling a secret, “the truth is, I’m illegally blind. If I get caught, they’re going to arrest me. And if I get convicted, they’re going to force me to take my eyes back and make me see again! So keep your voice down.”

“Oh my God, I’m so… oh .” She stopped and backed up. “You’re joking.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh. “The truth is, I was born without eyes. No one’s ever told me if that was legal or illegal, but I get in trouble a lot, so I just assumed I’m not on the right side of the law. And I might not be able to see it, but I know for a fact my face is way too pretty for prison.”

She was dead silent.

Ford made a soft choking noise, and I stepped in. The server had been shamed enough. “Another water, please. And—” I turned to Amedeo. “Babe. You want something else to drink?”

He blinked. “Me? I’m babe?”

“You’re babe,” I said with a tiny smile.

His mouth twitched. “Oh. Uh…Diet Coke?”

I smiled at the server. “He’d like a Diet Coke. Extra crispy.”

She looked like she wanted to give her table away, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. Without another word, she walked off, and when another beat of silence passed, Jonah settled into his chair.

“So,” he said, clasping his hands, “now that we’re done with the theatrics, tell me—who are you, and why did you decide to stalk my best friend?”

* * *

After Ford threatened to fist-fight Jonah for having the nerve to call himself my best friend, and after I threatened to fight him for calling Amedeo a stalker, and after a new server returned with a Diet Coke filled to the brim with that good crunchy ice, we finally ordered.

Amedeo got a cup of soup with a side of baguette, which had me worried. Now that he was right up beside me, I could see he was pale, and when he lifted his hand to grab his glass, I noticed he was shaking.

Ford shot me a knowing look, but I wasn’t going to talk about any of this shit in front of Jonah. He was one of my best friends, but he was also a bigger gossip than Ford.

“So. Since we’re not going to talk about the elephant in the room,” Jonah said over the calamari that had finally been delivered, “let’s get back to coaching.”

“Ooh, are we talking shit about the new guy?” Ford asked.

Jonah’s brows shot up. “New guy? Oh wait, your guy? With the hot French accent?”

“Don’t ever let Bodie hear you say that,” Ford warned.

He scoffed. “Bodie doesn’t scare me. He needs to dislodge the stick from his ass and give the dude a chance. But no. This isn’t about him. I’m actually trying to recruit Tucker.”

Ford looked horrified. “Fuck you, dude. He’s ours .”

“Not to play. To coach. Reid and Sarah are moving, and everyone who’s applied so far sucks ass,” Jonah whined. He fell over and dropped his head to Ford’s shoulder. “Tucker’s the only one who can do this.”

“ Just him? What am I? Chopped liver?”

“You have too many eyes,” Jonah muttered. “Please, Tuck. I’ll give you a hundred blowjobs a month!” Amedeo choked, and Jonah immediately turned red. “Oh shit. I’m so, so fucking sorry. I forgot you were there. You’re so quiet. That’s really annoying, by the way.”

“I’m sorry,” Amedeo said and sounded like he meant it.

“Stop being mean to him!” I demanded.

Amedeo cleared his throat and stood up. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”

“I’ll come with.” I shot up, using the table to steady myself. I needed to fix this before he panicked and ran. Jonah was just being himself, but Amedeo hadn’t been given the crash course in the Adams brothers’ bullshittery.

“Um.” Amedeo hesitated. “I promise I don’t need help.”

“Yeah, no. You look like you do, so don’t argue,” I insisted and grabbed his elbow. “Help me through the room so I don’t fall on my ass.”

He seemed entirely confused, but he still let me hold his arm until we got into the bathroom, which was bright enough for me to see all of him. He hovered near the urinals, but he didn’t move to unzip.

“You don’t need to piss, do you?”

He flushed. “I thought maybe you’d want a minute with your, ah, friend. I don’t want to make it awkward. I mean, he knows we’re not really married, right? So if you want the…uh…t-time together…”

“Oh my God, no . He wasn’t serious,” I told him, stepping closer. “He’s never sucked a dick in his life. That’s just how he is. We’re not a thing.”

Amedeo ducked his head. “He’s good-looking, and you’re gorgeous. It kind of makes sense.”

I scoffed. “Trust me, it doesn’t. He’s a good friend, and I might take him up on his job offer because coaching peewee pays jack shit, but no. No blowjobs. Not from him.”

Biting his lip, he kept his gaze down. “Okay. Just know that if you want to hit on someone, I won’t get in your way.”

I hated him for saying that, even though I had no right to. We weren’t a thing. And yet… He didn’t flinch as I stepped closer, and he didn’t do anything other than lean in when I put my hand on his shoulder. “You’ll never be in the way.”

He swallowed heavily. “If you say so.”

There was something in his tone—something heavy. I had a feeling it had everything to do with the fact that he was trembling and hadn’t ordered more than a rabbit would eat.

“Deo, sweetheart, are you okay?”

He blinked rapidly like he’d been startled. Maybe sweetheart was too far, too fast. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Yeah, he was lying. “Can I ask how you ended up with Ford today?”

His gaze shot up and met mine, his ears now pink. “Oh. Uh…we just ran into each other, is all.”

That didn’t sound right. Ford had been on the road all morning. “Where?”

Amedeo glanced away.

“Did he show up at your place? Oh my God, I’m going to fucking kill him if he?—”

“No! No.” He swallowed and looked back at me again. “He saw me on the side of the road having just a-a tiny, b-baby panic attack. I tried to tell him I was fine, but he said you’d kill him if you knew he’d left me there.”

I stepped in closer, and I didn’t realize I was boxing him up against the wall until I heard a dull thud, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Not if the way his flushed cheeks were getting darker by the second. His lips parted on a soft, panting breath.

“He was right,” I murmured, my voice low. “I would have murdered him if he left you there to panic on your own.”

Amedeo licked his lips, and I wanted to chase the path of his tongue with my own. “I was fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look like you need a—” A tongue in his mouth. A good, distracting orgasm. A cuddle, maybe? Anything to take that expression off his face.

“A what?” he whispered.

I couldn’t stop myself. I curled my hand against his jaw and stroked my thumb over his flush-warm skin. “We had a kiss, but neither of us remembers it.”

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“Want to try again?” Fuck, I was not usually this bold. Not ever. But something about the way Amedeo looked at me made me feel like I could take on the goddamn world. I pressed my chest to his, and I could feel the inhale and exhale of his trembling breath.

“You won’t forget this time?”

“I’m as sober as a…a…thing that’s really sober,” I told him.

He burst into a quiet fit of giggles, and his hands flailed out before settling on my waist. Christ, they felt good there. It sparked a hidden memory—no real images but the echo of what had been that night in Vegas. His touch was so familiar, and I wanted more.

I liked him, God help me.

God help us both.

Tilting my head down, I asked, “Do you want this?”

There was a long beat—hesitation enough that I started to worry, and then he nodded. “I really do. I’m just nervous.”

“Me too.”

He scoffed. “Right.”

“Trust me…I don’t do this a lot. But I like you. And it doesn’t have to be anything, you know. I get that you just got out of a relationship, and I’m not proposing marriage here. But we could do this, if you want. And more.”

“And more,” he echoed. It wasn’t a question.

I licked my lips, then lowered my head more. We were very nearly touching. All he’d have to do was lean forward. “For now, a kiss.”

“Okay,” he said, and then between two short breaths, the distance between us evaporated, and I had his mouth on mine once more.