Page 45 of Never Say Never

“Make that two. And we’ll share a chocolate milkshake.” The smile that spreads across his face makes his eyes crinkle, and the effect it has is palpable.

Tucker is painfully good looking. He’s built like an athlete with his lean frame, flat stomach and broad shoulders. Add to that his steel blue eyes, his collection of tattoos and the fact that he’s famous in our small town for coaching the Outlaws, and he’s arguably the hottest guy in Reed Point. Our waitress certainly seems to think so.

“I’ll get everything out to you right away. Your dinner won’t be long.” She takes our menus, brushing her shoulder against his. She’s beautiful, and I’m annoyed by the wave of jealousy that roils in my belly. Tucker seems completely unaware, keeping his eyes on mine.

“Don’t let our pact stop you from getting her number.” It’s a catty thing to say, but I can’t help it. Women practically throwing themselves at Tucker brings out the spiteful side of me.

He flashes me a smart-ass smirk that heats my cheeks. The way he’s looking at me is enough to flare to life the pulse that has been lingering in my core since last night. An image of Tucker, naked, flashes through my mind. I have never been with a man like him before. It was like we were the only two people left on this earth. Feral. Consuming.

“Someone’s jealous,” he says, reclining in his seat. Tucker knows me better than anyone. I shift on the leather seat feeling as if he can read my mind. As if he knows every one of my secrets.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

I huff out a breath, crossing my arms over my chest. I take note of the way Tucker’s eyes drop to my chest. It’s impossible not to think about the fact that he now knows what I look like underneath my clothes. He knows my body intimately. I move my hand to my throat, feeling suddenly like there is not enough air in this booth, in this entire diner. Tucker’s eyes follow the movement, landing on the hollow at the base of my neck. It’s like he notices every little thing about me. Every movement, every breath, no matter how small it is. He cocks his head, his eyes returning to mine with that sexy-as-hell smirk still on his face. “Tell me how you feel about last night.”

Heat slams into my cheeks. The question throws me off guard. I’m tempted to change the subject or beeline it to the restrooms, but it’s a conversation I know we should probably have. “I still can’t believe we did that.”

“Me neither. It was better than I ever imagined.”

My eyes go wide at his words, at how forthright he is. I feel my stomach drop to the black and white checkerboard floor.

“So, you’ve thought about having sex with me?”

He cocks his head while I force myself to hold eye contact as I wait for his answer. He leans in closer, his voice low so that only I can hear him. “Of course I have, Dais. I’ve fantasized about it since we were 15 years old.”

My jaw falls open, my brain running in circles at the weight of his words. Tucker Collins just admitted to wanting me. I’ve wondered for years if the attraction was mutual, and now I know it was.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

His expression softens. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, feeling a little embarrassed. “Besides that kiss…” I pause, noticing the way his Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat. “You never really looked at me like you wanted me.”

“Two burgers, fries and extra pickles,” our waitress announces as she appears out of nowhere with our orders. “And I’ll be right back with that milkshake.”

Tucker flashes her a smile that could melt icecaps, and she bats her eyelashes in response. “Thanks very much.”

When she leaves, I glance at Tucker, who’s already busy dipping a French fry in ketchup. The moment between us is forgotten, so I move on as well.

“You really like ketchup.”

“I do.”

“What else do you like?”

“Pickles,” he says, scooping one from his plate.

“I hope not together.”

“My god, never.”

I grin, reaching for a fry.

“How about you, Dais? What do you like?”

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