Page 21 of Never Say Never

How would I feel?I’m not sure how to answer that. I can admit to the undeniable attraction I’ve always felt for Tucker, but anything beyond that—anything resembling a relationship—is hard to imagine.

Her question feels too big.

“He doesn’t.” When it comes to Tucker, the only thing I’m sure of right now is that I need space so that I can stop having these feelings for him. “Besides, we’re family. It just seems wrong.”

I’ve never told anyone about our kiss, not even Briar. I’ve kept that secret close to my chest for over 10 years and because of that it feels as if that brief moment belongs to me and Tucker only. Our secret. I have no delusions about what it meant, but every time I think about his lips on mine, I smile. There’s no way I could ever forget it.

Briar’s expression softens as if she knows there’s more to it than what I’ve told her. “For what it’s worth, babe, I think you’d be playing with fire with that one. You’re looking for love. A ring and a white picket fence. The whole deal. Maybe not right this second, but that’s the path you want to be on. Tucker seems like the type who would rather set himself on fire than commit to one woman. Why waste your time? Imagine if you did sleep withhim and then realized it was a mistake. Family dinners would get awkward real fast.” She stretches out the wordreal.

She’s right, of course. The rational part of my brain knows this, but there’s another part that gets excited at the thought of having Tucker’s arms wrapped around me, his naked body pressed against mine, him buried deep inside of me. But sleeping with Uncle Mark and Aunt Daisy’s son would be a surefire way to complicate our family dynamic.

“Daisy, are you okay?” Briar cocks her head at me, looking concerned.

I inhale, bringing myself back to the present and to my best friend. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I’ll go get some groceries. The fridge is looking pretty sad.”

“Okay,” she says. “If you’re sure. I’ll be in my room. I’m going to call my mom.”

I open the fridge to survey its contents, making a mental note of what I need to get. It’s Sunday, so maybe I’ll stop by the farmer’s market and pick up some fresh produce and bread before hitting up Whole Foods. I’m closing the refrigerator door when I hear a knock at the apartment door.

I swing the door open to find ocean-blue eyes staring back at me.Tucker.I’m speechless.What is he doing here?

I am not prepared to see him. Especially when he looks like that. God, he looks good. His tall frame fills the doorway. He’s wearing a gray Henley and a pair of jeans, his chiselled jaw covered in dark stubble.

“Don’t look so happy to see me.”

I stay where I am, careful not to give him an opening to come into my apartment. “Tucker, what are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d pick you up for dinner.”

“You what?”

He stares back at me as if I’ve lost my ever-loving mind, with the hint of a smirk that causes an annoying spark of arousal deep in my belly. “When did you say that?”

He gives me an exasperated look. “I told you at Dream Bean. I guess you were too busy hating my guts for it to register.”

Not picking up on my cue, he smiles as he squeezes past me and walks into the living room. I shut the door behind him and immediately feel the charge in the air. The room gets smaller, the air thicker, and I find myself wishing Briar would walk out of her bedroom to break the tension.

He stalks toward my couch, shifting the two mismatched throw pillows over before taking a seat.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to get changed so we can go to Mom’s for dinner,” he says before grabbing a book off my coffee table. It’s a National Geographic travel book that I found in this cute thrift store in Cape May. I had to have it when I flipped through its pages and saw the stunning photos of ancient towns nestled into Italian hillsides, narrow canyons carved into bright red sandstone, golden temples perched on lush, green mountains. I wanted to see it all.

I went to South America right after graduation, it was one of those Contiki tours. It was the first trip I took without my parents, and I had the time of my life. That was the trip that sparked my need to travel the world.

“Well, don’t get too comfy,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not going for dinner. I told my parents I’m sick.”

Tucker gives me a look. “You don’t look sick.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why would you tell them that?”

“I’m busy and I’m tired and I don’t feel like going,” I lie with a shrug, hoping he will stop asking questions and get the hell out of here.

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