“I don’t care if they are here or not, we are fucking ordering food.”
“Geez, Tuck, you act like I made you eat tofu and seaweed all day.”
“You did, didn’t you?”
He pulls me out of the truck, practically dragging me into the diner. If I wasn’t on such a lust hangover, I’d be a little shit and drag my heels the whole way. He heads straight to the counter to order while I use the restroom to wash up.
I shake my head at my goofy face reflecting back at me as I soap up my hands. I’ve never in my life looked so ecstatic and overwhelmed by one person. It makes me giggle harder at the insane day I experienced with Tuck. A light squeak invades my happy moment, and I turn around to see a dark-haired stranger staring at me.
It’s enough to spook spiral me back into reality where I have no idea who the enemy is. Quickly, I dry off my hands and rush back out into the main area of the restaurant and find Tuck, who is already eating. I fucking swear he has the waitresses and cooks wrapped around his little finger.
“Happy?” I ask, looking down at him.
“Now I am.” He drags me into his lap as he chows down on his food.
He’s so intent on eating, I’m afraid I may lose a finger if I snag a fry from his plate. Moments later, a server places a chef salad in front of me and I grin stupidly at it, realizing Tuck knew better.
“Thank you.” I pet Tuck’s thigh before digging in.
“What the hell?” Sophie stands before us with her hands perched on her hips.
I shrug. “You know that no one gets between Tuck and his food.”
“Bitch.” She plops down on the bench opposite of me.
I slide my plate over to the center of the table and let Sophie pick off her favorite parts.
“What did you guys do today?” I ask around a mouthful of food.
“You know.”
“Okay, okay, shut up now.”
Lane sits down, and Tuck doesn’t share a damn lick of his food.
Chapter 29
“Three more. Blue, you said you wanted defined thighs. Deeper.”
“Really, Tuck?”
Every muscle in my upper thighs quivers and quakes, but I settle lower into the squat each time. Even though this man can make it sound dirty as hell when he says deeper, I focus on the actual movement of the exercise. He’s been working my ass over in the gym, prepping me for nationals, which is weeks away.
I’m pretty sure this is how Tuck entertains himself in the off-season, and now he has a victim to torture. I won’t complain since we spend all of our free time together, and I’ve conned my way into him doing my homework ninety percent of the time.
“Leg press machine.” Tuck adds weight after weight.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Nope. Four sets, and then you can go home and ride me for your cardio.” Tuck pulls me into his sweaty torso and kisses my lips.
“I hate you sometimes.”
I know it’s a losing battle to argue with the man, so I settle down onto the seat, and adjust my sticky skin against the red vinyl and dig in. I’ve learned to not dare cheat on a set, or he’ll make my ass do it over. I power through each set, only resting seconds in between intervals, and even surprise him on the last, pushing myself to failure and easily exceeding twenty reps.
“Damn, someone must be very eager for their cardio.” Tuck steps over, straddling me, while he stares down with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Maybe, but I don’t think I can walk.”
He reaches to pull me up and easily whips me into a standing position.
“Go get your stuff or I’ll fuck you here.”
I try to walk away from him and can barely keep my rubbery legs steady. My shorty short spandex shorts are riding up my ass, so I dig one side out as I hobble off to the locker room. I’m pretty sure everything about me right now gives a new definition to hot mess.
When I look up after I steady my sea legs, I come face to face with Captain Asshat. My heart stops and my legs shake harder, if that’s even possible. I try to walk forward, but am halted when I find myself staring into his eyes. Fear grips my common sense, making it impossible to process if I know those eyes, but I keep staring straight into them. He’s talking, but I don’t listen as I stare.
In slow motion, I watch his hand raise to my shoulder and land on my bare skin. Chills run down my spine, and yet I keep staring into his eyes.
“Excuse me, Blue.”
As quickly as he appeared, he’s gone. My body was braced for the worst, but nothing came. I spin around looking for him, but the gym is empty. Did I just imagine that whole thing? My feet finally come to the party, and I scurry into the locker room, snatching my bag and heading for the checkout counter.
Tuck’s in a heated argument with the clerk at the desk, immediately answering my question whether it was a dream or not.
“He’s not allowed in here. I’ll be calling management.”
Tuck spots me, and I know a shit storm is about to ensue. If I thought I’d seen the man dark and upset before, then that was nothing. The veins running along his hairline are popped up, and his face is shades of deep red. He clutches my hand and drags me from the gym.
“We won’t be fucking back,” he hollers over his shoulder as he slams the glass door as hard as he can.
His fit of rage is doing nothing to calm me down or steady my legs. Tuck tugs on my hand one last time when he steps out into the parking lot and I fall to the pavement.
“Tuck,” I scream, but it’s too late as my skin is once again torn.
“Son of a bitch.”
He picks me up and carries me the rest of the way to the truck. With each step I feel the blood trickle down the front of my shins. When he sets me on the passenger side, I don’t attempt to slide to the middle, but stay put and go for my gym towel. I let it soak up the blood flowing from my kneecaps. When I hear his door shut, I don’t look up at him.
“I’m sorry, Blue, I’m just fucking livid and didn’t mean to make you trip.”
“You pulled me fucking down, Tuck.” My voice is shaky.
“I’m sorry.” His arm wraps around my shoulder as I feel his body come closer to me.
“Don’t touch me.” I press the towel deeper into my wounds and face him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Blue.” The hurt look on his face doesn’t even faze me as I completely fall off the cliff of sanity.
“That was him, Tuck. Fucking listen to me. That was the guy who attacked me. It was him. Are you fucking listening to me?”
“What?”
“Just fucking take me home.”
“Blue, you have to talk to me.”
“Oh, really?” I whip around to face him. “I need to talk to you. You, the man who just pulled me down on pavement and made me bleed again? I don’t think so.”
“Blue, are you serious right now?”
“Take me home.”
Tuck tosses his hands up in the air in surrender, and then the next sound is the squealing of his tires zipping out of the parking lot.
“Tuck, stop driving like a fucking lunatic.”
He doesn’t respond or let up on the gas pedal.
“I’m sorry.” My fist pounds into the dash. “I never had the courage to tell you the guy on the news wasn’t the attacker. I wanted it all to go away, but it hasn’t. It haunts me every fucking night and every second I’m not with you.”
“Are you sure it was the guy at the gym?”
I shrug because now I don’t feel sure about anything.
“Blue, fucking talk.”
“I don’t know.” My scream is deafening and dangerous. “I just know it’s not the guy you think it is, and…”
“And what, Blue?”
“Nothing.” I collapse into a ball in the front seat, giving in to all the fucking emotions from the day.
“Do you not trust me?”
“I do.” Tears roll down my knees seeping into the fresh cuts on my skin.
“I can’t help you if I don’t know.”