Page 18 of Never Say Never

But as stressed as I am, Tucker looks worse. His eyes are tired, lacking their usual intensity.

“Are you okay?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I’ve known him long enough to know he’s lying. “Are you gonna make me drag it out of you?”

“Drag what out of me?”

“Whatever it is that’s eating at you.”

“Just a big game tonight. I guess I’m wound a little tight.”

“It’s going to be great, Tucker. The Outlaws play their best ball under pressure. And they’ve got a great coach,” I add.

“That they do,” he says with a smirk, that playful spark returning to his eyes. It hits me square in my chest, but I refuse to get sucked in by him.

“Get over yourself.” I roll my eyes at him as I shove my phone in my back pocket.

“So, are you coming?”

“Where?”

“To the game tonight.”

Normally I wouldn’t hesitate, but I’m not sure going to cheer on Tuck’s team fits with my self-imposed Tucker Collins detox. Faking a headache might be the better idea.

“I’d like to, but I have a list a mile long of things I need to get to.”

“Daisy—”

“The groceries aren’t going to buy themselves,” I deadpan, crossing my arms over my chest.

He tilts his head at me pointedly, eyebrows raised. Something about the way he looks at me feels so familiar, like we have shared a moment like this a thousand times before. Nomatter what has happened between us, no matter what else is going on in our lives, Tucker and I know each other almost as well as we know ourselves. He pushes my buttons, and I allow him to get under my skin. It’s what we do. But underneath all of that, we are a constant in one another’s lives.

He waits for me to say something, not breaking eye contact. Wordlessly, I stare back until he caves and breaks the silence.

“It’s a big game, Dais. I really hope you’ll be there. But if not, then I’ll see you when I pick you up for dinner on Sunday.”

Just then, the barista calls Tucker’s name, placing our drinks on the bar. He picks them up and turns to me, his eyes catching mine as he smiles. It’s not forced or awkward. It’s the smile I remember from when we were kids that assured me, we were okay.

I smile back as I reach for the cup in his hand, and his fingers brush against mine as I take it. My skin tingles at the contact. He pauses, his eyes dropping down to my lips before returning to my eyes.

Neither of us move. This can’t be happening. He isn’t going to kiss me in the middle of the coffee shop. Or is he? My heart drops to my stomach.

Tucker reaches out and softly places his hand on my forearm. “Daisy.”

The years since that kiss seem to unravel and I am back on that day, on his parents’ couch, when I was just a girl, and he was everything I ever wanted.

I’m not sure which of us breaks eye contact, but I manage to speak first. “I think I should go,” I say quietly. I watch Tucker’s hand fall from my forearm and pretend I’m not affected by the loss of his touch. I yank my purse up onto my shoulder, dismissing the pesky flutter in my belly. I need to get out of here before I give into temptation and break my pact with myself.

“I’ll see ya,” I say in a hurry.

“I’ll leave tickets for you and your parents at will call,” he calls as I slip out the door.

Then I’m walking away from him. I need air. I need to breathe. I need to be as far away from his damn blue eyes as possible.

The stadium is packedwith Outlaw fans wearing green and gold. The excitement coursing through the air so thick tonight it’s palpable, the whole place is buzzing with anticipation. I join the rest of the fans who are on their feet cheering wildly as the team files out of the tunnel one by one, followed by Tucker and the rest of the coaching staff.

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