Page 138 of Old Acquaintances

I’m always nice to you.

I’d always rather be with you.

God, you’re perfect.

I listen to Tucker nestle in beside me, breathing behind my ear, his hold on me both soft and stable. He’s relaxed, and my eyes flutter shut.

It’s scary, but thrilling, to know him for thirty years and see him anew. His image shifted in my mind so many times that he was a new person with every gentle, loving thing he did, but he hadn’t transformed. That was Tucker all along. The entire time. He unfurled bits of truth as he learned it for himself. He has always been this kind, this loving, this warm. Had he not been in my life, I would be different. He lit fires and calmed fears and rescued me.

Would he be different without me?

I open my eyes. He’s almost asleep now. His breath is rhythmic. With his closed mouth and strong nose and disheveled hair, he’s so Tucker and so Elijah. Part of him exists in the world, but the rest of it belongs to me.

Did it start in college, did it start at puberty, or did it begin in the hospital room, held side by side in our mothers’ arms?

I whisper, “I love you, Eli.”

Not quite asleep, the side of his mouth smiles.

He thinks it’s part of the game.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Today

“What now?” I mutter to Tucker when we wake up.

I’m facing him, his right arm wrapped around my body. His eyes drift open, his mouth closes. I drag my fingertips delicately along his face and he massages my side with smooth, careful swipes of his palm.

With a full, tired voice, he croons, “Well…we could do itagain.”

I sigh. “Okay. And then what?”

“I’ll probably brush my teeth.”

“Okay and then what?”

He smiles and kisses me with a closed mouth. After a moment of deep focus, he cradles my jaw and kisses me again. He says, “You know what sixteen-year-old me and eighteen-year-old me and twenty-two-year-old me wanted more than anything?”

“Hm?”

“To kiss you whenever I wanted.”

“And what does thirty-year-old you want?” I ask when he moves his lips to my neck.

He snaps upright. “Oh fuck, are we thirty?”

“In…” I reach back for my phone. “Fourteen hours.”

“Well, that snuck up on me.” Tucker runs his hands down my breast and caresses my stomach and runs his nose along mycollarbone. He whispers. “Happy almost birthday.”

Laying flat on my back, I grapple for his neck and pull him tight against me.

“Ell?” His hands slide between my back and the mattress.

“We could stay here forever,” I mutter. “Squatters rights.”

“I think Airbnb would disagree.”

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