Page 11

CHAPTER TEN

AMEDEO

He was kissing me. And I was kissing him back.

His tongue was warm and soft and demanding in the way that it moved against my own, like he was trying to learn the touch map of my mouth. His fingers gripped me hard, digging into my waist before letting go to coast a soft graze up my ribs.

My whole body twitched, and I let out a half giggle, which was partly from being ticklish and partly because I was nervous as hell. I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t expected him to want me back at all. I thought every kind thing he’d done and every invite he’d given me was out of pity.

I was pathetic, after all. I was self-aware enough to know and admit it.

Tucker pulled back, and his gaze searched my face. His eye—slightly foggy from the scarring—was laser focused. “Deo.”

God, I loved the way that sounded on his lips.

“Is this…I mean, should I stop, or?—”

“No,” I said, then panicked when he flinched back. I gripped him tighter, pulled him closer. “It’s fine. It’s good. This is good.”

He looked unsure, twisting his head around to look at the bathroom door. That was the moment I remembered we weren’t somewhere private. Whipping his head back toward me, he surged forward and gave me a hard, almost angry kiss. “Later,” he said against my mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

I had no idea what later was supposed to mean. Would this pick up later? Would we talk? Would he apologize and tell me this couldn’t happen the way I wanted?

I took a deep breath, and as it shuddered on the exhale, he twisted fingers into my hair and pulled me forward until my face was resting in the crook of his neck. He smelled so damn nice—fresh and clean and a little sweet. His arms were tight, his body a steady ballast, and my breathing quickly matched his own.

“We should get back before those assholes come looking for us. It’s bad enough that we got married in Vegas. They will never let me live it down if they catch us making out like a couple of teenagers in a bathroom stall.” For a moment, I thought he was ashamed. But then he trailed his fingers down my arm and linked them with mine. “Get me back to the table.”

I nodded, then hesitated. “I don’t remember if I ever asked you about your eyes.”

His shoulders sagged in the way that told me he was tired of answering that question. But he didn’t look upset. “In the accident, I lost this eye.” He pulled his glasses low on his nose and tapped his right one. I flinched, but it made a sort of clicking sound. “This one’s prosthetic.”

That made sense. It was a totally different color from the other.

“This one’s all scarred up. I can see out of it, but everything’s blurry as fuck even with my glasses, so when the room’s really dimly lit, like this restaurant, I tend to walk into tables.”

I frowned as he took my hand again and tugged me toward the door. “Why choose it?”

“Jonah did. He’s worse than me.” With that, he pulled us into the little corridor, and I took up the position walking ahead, getting us back to the table while being a little more careful than when we had walked away.

Ford and Jonah stopped talking abruptly as we approached. Jonah had his curled fists under his chin, a little smile on his face, and Ford was watching with raised eyebrows.

“Lovebirds,” Ford said.

“Fuck off,” Tucker replied with a smile. He settled into his chair, waited for me to follow suit, then turned to his friends. “If you embarrass Deo, I will set your beds on fire with you still in them.”

Jonah burst into laughter. “Cold.”

Ford just rolled his eyes, then met my gaze and winked. “I’d never. I like him a lot more than I like you.”

Tucker flipped him off but kept his attention on Jonah. “So. About the job. I accept.”

“Great. Only you can’t just accept. There has to be a vote. I’ll call the council, and we’ll set something up.”

“The council,” Ford said with a snort. “Listen to this motherfucker who thinks he’s the Queen of England.”

Jonah patted the top of his head. “I’d wear the crown a lot better than she did.”

I couldn’t help a smile or the warm feeling that was settling in my chest. They were so…relaxed. Happy in ways I didn’t fully understand. They were comfortable, like they were home, and I realized I’d never felt like that before.

I wanted it. I craved it like I’d never craved anything before. But this wasn’t mine. I was a visitor—invited in for a little while. A piece of furniture they would throw out after the week was up.

But that was fine. A little was better than nothing.

Tucker turned his head, caught my gaze, and smiled, and in that moment, everything felt okay.

* * *

Luckily, no one asked me about why I was upset on a bus bench for the duration of lunch. We ate, the guys talked hockey, which I couldn’t follow, and then they made plans to meet up before the game.

The conversation carried on as we all shuffled outside, and I turned my face up toward the pale sun and breathed in deeply.

“…around eight. You in?”

I realized Tucker was talking to me. “Sorry. I missed that.”

His grin was small and sweet. “We can meet up after the game, just outside the locker rooms at eight. You in?”

Oh. Right. I was invited to this game. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“You good to drive yourself there?” Ford asked.

I nodded. My flat tire had been changed, and everything was in working order. “Just send me the address and where I need to buy tickets.”

Ford laughed as Tucker shook his head. “Babe. WAGs don’t buy tickets.”

I blinked at him. “WAGs?”

Throwing his arm around me, Ford gave me a half hug. “Wives and girlfriends. It’s sexist or…exclusionary? Whatever. We’re not calling you a girl. Hockey’s just, like, notoriously hetero.”

Tucker made an irritated noise in the back of his throat and yanked me out of Ford’s grasp. “Stop touching him.” He leaned into my ear. “I’ll never call you my girlfriend or wife—unless that was something you wanted. But you are mine for the night.”

Mine ? My entire body went flaming hot. Shit. No one had ever called me anything like that before. No one had ever wanted to. But Jesus, the way he said it, low and rumbling against my skin? It felt too real.

“If you say so.” I tried to sound confident, but instead, I sounded breathless.

Tucker laughed and pressed a kiss to the hinge of my jaw. “See you soon, sweetheart.” And then he let me go.

I watched in silent wonder as Jonah took his arm, and the pair of them started toward the street. When they were nearly at the bus stop, the spell broke, and I turned to face Ford.

“You’re not giving them a ride?”

“If they wanted one, they would have asked. Tucker can be a little weird about people driving him.”

It made sense, I supposed. I didn’t know about his accident or the details about what happened when he lost his legs and his eye, but what I did know about Tucker was that he was fiercely independent. He was bossy yet sweet about it. He was everything Bryce had pretended to be but could never pull off.

“You like him,” Ford said.

I flushed. “He’s been very kind to me since all of this happened.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, but I’m gonna let you off the hook because this whole situation’s fucked.” He slung his arm back around my shoulder now that Tucker wasn’t there to growl possessively into my ear. “Let me give you a ride home, yeah?”

Right. Because I’d gone for a walk to get a bite to eat, and then Bryce had fucked my entire day. And now I had no idea where I was. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

“Anything for my favorite brother-in-law,” he said with a huge grin.

I didn’t bother to correct him.

The ride back to my rental was quiet, and though it wasn’t long because nothing in this town seemed to take more than ten minutes, it felt like forever. I realized I was dreading being on my own, and my stomach started to twist uncomfortably around my soup and bread as Ford pulled into the driveway.

When he slid alongside my car, he didn’t just idle. He turned the engine off and then twisted his body to face mine. “You can tell me to fuck off—because lots of people do—but are you okay?”

His question was so genuine I felt an inexplicable urge to shove a metaphorical knife in my belly and spill my guts all over him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He sighed. “I’m pretty good at reading people. Everyone says I should go into, like…what are those detectives who are in charge of interrogating criminals?”

Half my mouth lifted into a small grin. “I think those are just detectives.”

“Sure, right. Like on CSI or whatever. Anyway, I can tell you’re lying.”

I had no idea what to say to him. I was lying. I was not okay, and I didn’t know how to be okay. But I was the interloper here—the stranger who’d turned their best friend’s life upside down by marrying him in a drunken blackout, ghosting him in the hotel room, and then turning up weeks later to make sure we could get rid of the paperwork together.

“You don’t have to talk to me, but I am a good listener.”

I glanced up at him. He was young, but he had age in his eyes and wrinkles on either side of his forehead. He’d been through some shit—that was obvious—but I supposed all of Tucker’s friends had.

“It’s not important. Things in my life are just messy. I thought I could escape it for a little while, but I was wrong.”

“Is that why you were sitting on a bus bench having a panic attack?”

“It hardly qualified as an attack. It was a panic moment,” I said, hugging my middle. I wasn’t ashamed of having anxiety, but I was tired of people thinking that made me weak. Even if I might have been projecting on Ford just a tiny bit. “And yes, I…well.” I blew out a puff of air. “My ex called.”

His head tilted to the side, and I realized then that Tucker hadn’t told his friend about the fact that our little tryst—or whatever it was—happened while I was technically in a relationship. I was the cheater, and that shame was real.

And overwhelming.

“He’s not very nice. And he’s angry about what I did.”

Ford’s eyes widened. “In Vegas.”

Glancing away, I nodded. I should bear this shame publicly. “There’s no excuse for what I did. He has every right to hate me.”

“But?” Ford pressed.

I looked back at him. “But nothing. He does. Whatever he throws at me, I deserve it.”

Ford’s brow furrowed. “Mm, no. Sorry, bud, but I don’t buy that for a second. Cheating is fucking terrible, but I can tell this is so much deeper than you having a ho moment in a casino bar.”

I swallowed thickly, then shrugged. “Is it okay if we don’t talk about this?” Oh Christ, my voice was shaking.

Ford quickly threw up both hands. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I know this is none of my business. It’s just…” He hesitated, then let his breath out in a sigh. “Tucker really likes you, and I haven’t seen him like anyone in…well. Ever, I think? He gets his kicks in clubs when he gets bored, but he hasn’t dated since—” He stopped abruptly. “Did he tell you why he was in Vegas?”

“He probably did, yeah. Something about his brother?” I shook my head. “The memories are really foggy.”

Ford grimaced. “I’m going to let him tell you that story. It’s not really my place. But I can say that he was in a really bad way. Bodie and I were really, really starting to worry about him, but he came back different.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

Ford reached out and seized my shoulder, squeezing tight. “Different in a good way. Confused, yeah. But the moment he set eyes on you again, something shifted. I’m not saying this is, like, star-crossed or whatever?—”

“I hope not,” I blurted. He frowned. “Star-crossed means fated to die young or be apart forever.”

“Oh shit. Yeah, so I didn’t do the whole college thing,” Ford said with a sheepish smile. “I meant, like, soulmates or whatever. I’m not really a fate kind of guy. But I don’t think the two of you are bad for each other. Maybe you met at the right time. Whatever else happens…” He trailed off, waving his hand.

Whatever else happens , I repeated to myself. Looking through the windshield at the rental, I sighed. “See you tonight, right?”

In my periphery, I could see Ford smiling. “Give them your name at the box office. You’ll get good seats.” He squeezed my shoulder once more, and I knew that was my cue.

It was time to go. Whatever this feeling in my chest was, I could think about it later. For now, I would finish my work, ignore any attempts for Bryce to contact me, and hope that when it was all over, I wasn’t in more pieces than I had shown up in.