Page 43 of Never Say Never

Tucker insisted on driving me back to my apartment and he seemed disappointed when I jumped out of his truck as soon as he pulled up in front of my building. I’m sure he was hoping for a round two, but I felt like I needed some space to come to terms with what had just happened between us. I also knew I wouldn’t survive the post-sex hug goodbye. The only way this is going to work is if we keep that line drawn in the sand. There’s no other way.

I grab my water bottle and shove my phone into my belt bag. I’m hoping that a walk will help me clear my head. I pull my hair back into a quick ponytail and lace up my runners, then I’m heading for the door. Briar is on the couch in the living room, feet up with a bowl of pasta on her lap.

“You sure you’re not hungry?” she asks. “I put the leftovers in the fridge if you want them.”

“Thanks, I’ll probably eat later,” I say, the constant, nervous flutter in my belly leaving me with zero appetite. I haven’t told her about last night yet. When she asked me about it, I told her I just needed some time.

“Okay. Well, enjoy your walk. It looks like you could use it. We’ll talk when you get back?”

“Promise.” I nod.

“Taking anyone with you?”

“If that’s your sneaky way of asking if Tucker is coming, you’ll be happy to know that he’s not.”

She shrugs. “I’m actually kind of invested in this whole frienemies-to-lovers story you guys have going.”

I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “You read too many of those smut books, Briar.”

“Got that right. All the cool girls do,” she says with a snort as I open our front door. “I’ll be right here on this couch when you get back and I want to hear every dirty detail.”

“I can’t wait,” I say with an eyeroll before shutting the door behind me and heading in the direction of the beach. My walk takes me past the cafés and shops of First Street, past Bloom, my favorite flower shop, and Buttercup Bakery a little further down—their signature lemon cupcakes are to die for. Briar and I stop in there at least a couple of times a month.

Soon, I’ve reached the boardwalk of White Harbor Beach, the largest and busiest beach in town. White Harbor is where you’ll find the crowds of tourists who flock to Reed Point each summer. Locals know to stay away, choosing quieter spots like Haven Harbor, where Tucker and Holden have their place. I will be staying far away from there though tonight not wanting to risk running into Tucker.

I breathe in the salt from the ocean, my runners echoing off the warm concrete in the late afternoon sun. I look down the sand to the bluff a mile or so down the beach and it reminds me of him. As kids, Tucker and I would hike the bluff trails to the lighthouse at the top. We would race up the steps to see who could get up to the viewpoint the fastest, then we’d sit up there and watch the sun go down. I would rest my head on Tuck’s shoulder, staring out at the purples, reds and pinks that danced along the horizon.

I haven’t been back there for 10 years, but my feet take me there tonight. Before I know it, I’m at the mouth of the trail, my mind flooded with memories. I’m an only child, but I’ve never felt like one. Growing up, Tucker was the sibling I never had. The big brother who would have done anything for me. And he did. He watched over me, protected me. I guess that’s why the loss of our friendship was so painful. It had always felt like there was an invisible tether that joined us together, but then one day it just snapped. As the years went by, I had to accept the fact that Tucker would never be part of my life again, not really. We’d see each other at family dinners, we’d be pleasant enough for ourparents’ sake, but we’d never be close again. But now here he is, and I feel whole again. I feel happy. And I want more.

I pick up my pace on the trail, willing myself to stop these constant thoughts of Tucker. I look around at the tall grass, the pink and purple ombre sky, the glimmering ocean below. This view will never get old. Eventually I reach the lighthouse and start climbing the stairs. When I reach the top, my heart is pounding and my head is clear.

I sit down on the stone gallery deck, my back propped up against the wall and pull my knees into my chest. The night is unseasonably warm for the middle of fall, high sunlit clouds blanketing the coastline like an overprotective mother, waves crashing into the jagged coastline.

I’m lost in my thoughts, staring at the sailboats dotting the turquoise sea below, when a noise startles me. My gaze slices to the stairs just in time to see Tucker reach the top of the lighthouse.

“Daisy… What are you doing here?”

My eyes stay glued to Tucker as he closes the distance between us. I swallow the nervous urge to laugh. I came all the way up here to try to get Tucker out of my head, and now here he is, standing right in front of me. The universe seems to be conspiring to put this man in my path at every opportunity.

“I felt like going for a walk after work, and I guess I lost track of time.” I try to appear unaffected by his presence, but even I can hear that I sound nervous and a little out of breath. Seeing him makes me want to be back in his arms, back with his warm body against mine. “What areyoudoing here?”

“Needed to clear my mind, and this place, um…I haven’t been here in a long time. It’s always felt special. The last time I was here I was with you.”

His response throws me for a loop, and my lips tip up at the corners in a half-smile. “Wanna sit?”

“Love to.”

Tucker sits down next to me, folding his long legs in front of him. Energy crackles between us, my body hyper-aware of his. The urge to nuzzle into his side like old times vibrates through me. Instead, I wrap my arms tighter around my knees, forcing myself to resist.

“How was your day?” he asks, flicking a glance my way. “Anything exciting?”

“Nope, not unless you consider a peanut M&M lodged up the nose of a 12-year-old boy exciting.”

Tucker snorts. “Does that really happen?”

“Are you serious?” I look at him with raised eyebrows. “I have seenwayworse than that. You don’t wanna know.”

“Do you remember that time you went face first over your handlebars? You had a goose egg on your forehead the size of a grapefruit. I thought you were going to die.”

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