Page 32 of Old Acquaintances

He sucks in air.

Serena stands and waves everyone out of the room. Callie leans into the doorway and says, “Put your bathing suits on! I’m making tacos for dinner and Wyatt’s making margaritas and we’re going to hang by the pool! It’s heated.”

I sigh. “Tucker will be staring at my boobs long enough to light us all on fire, but that sounds great.”

The door shuts behind them. We both stand in the quiet, looking at it. Now I’m the one questioning how much it will cost to change my flight.

I spin around to the bed. It’s concerningly small. I wonder how queen-sized itactuallyis. Queen-sized must be an acceptable median term for anything bigger than a racecar bed,like how broad the range of six feet tall is on a dating app. “You should sleep on the couch.”

He scoffs, coming up beside me. “Youcan sleep on the couch.”

I pick up my bag from the floor and drop it on the center of the comforter, staking my claim. “I’m the girl.”

“Since when?” He throws himself on the mattress. He shoves my bag to the side.

“Why don’t you have any manners?” I cross my arms. “Letting me have the bed is the polite, gentlemanly thing to do.”

He lets out a laugh and kicks his shoes off. “I won’t fit on either of those couches. Besides if you think I’m such a sexual predator, feel free to create your own safe space in the living room.”

“Am I wrong?”

“About?”

I unzip my carry-on and take out my bikini top. “You ogling me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He rolls his eyes.

“Really?”

He stares at the ceiling. I want to tell him: there are no answers up there. You can’t read from a script. There’s no playbook for what we’ve been to each other, what we’ve done in beds. Besides, I know one single thing for certain about Elijah Tucker: he’s attracted to me. It’s an unwavering fact, like how candy is unhealthy and you’ll be blinded if you stare at the sun. If anything, I’m more toned and mature than I was at sixteen, so if he thought that was the best version of me - watch out.

“I know you, Tucker,” I taunt. “There will always be a little piece of you obsessed with me.”

He clucks his teeth. “Please.”

“You and I cannot just share a bed for sleeping.”

“You’re so sure yourself, huh? That’s sad, actually. The levelof misplaced confidence you have in your ability to tempt me.”

I pause. “100 bucks says you sleep on the couch tonight.”

He leans back on his elbows. “And why would I do that?”

“Because you can’t keep your hands off me. You won’t be able to trust yourself around me.”

“Oh, I can keep my hands off you. I just don’t want to. My hands like messing with you. It doesn’t mean any other bit of me wants to join the party.” He smirks. “And how exactly are you going to get me to give up the bed? Seduce me until I don’t trust myself? Or are you just going to pee in it?”

“The first option is the easiest, so…” I sweep my hair over my shoulder. I drag my fingers through it, knowing the exact pressure points to hit to turn him to goo.

The look on his face is one I know well, but for many years pretended to ignore or explain away. He watches me, annoyance pooling between his eyebrows, altering the expression he’s fighting against, and scratches the back of his neck, saying, “I haven’t seen you in years, Ella. What makes you think I’m still obsessed with you?”

I smile. “Because you just used the wordstill.”

Tucker pinches his lips, having given himself away. He gets to his feet and walks over to me.

“Looking at your boobs is an instinct. Okay? It’s like…noticing a single dark cloud on a sunny day. You can’t not look at it. It doesn’t mean I want you.” He pauses. “It’s like you’re the stale end slice of white bread that you can’t really do anything with and it’s not much to look at, but it’sstillbread, so I guess in a pinch it would do the trick, but you don’t really want it.”

I narrow my eyes.

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