Page 92 of Old Acquaintances

Tucker exhaled and I might have even seen a shine in his eyes that matched mine. He finally said, “You are notagirl.” He turned to look at me. “You arethegirl.”

I asked, “Was that different for you?”

“Yeah. Of course, it was.”

“Because we’ve known each other our whole lives?”

“No, because…” He licked his lips. He turned on his side to face me and his hand brushed the side of my face. He held it there, warm on my skin, and inched closer to kiss me gently on the mouth. When Tucker pulled back, he said, “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. Can we just go to sleep?”

I nodded. The only thing he said that I understood was,I’m sorry.I had the impression that I wasn’t meant to understand the rest. Whatever went through his mind stayed there, just like his hand on my cheek.

The few times I spent the night in Johnny’s small dorm bed, I laid on my side facing the wall and he slept on his back, not touching me at all. Now, staring at Tucker, I couldn’t fathom falling asleep without his arms around me. Neither did he, apparently.

He rolled onto his back, scooping his left arm under my shoulder blades. He tucked me to him, my head resting on his shoulder, my arm draped across his chest. His fingers moved gently against my back, and I closed my eyes, falling asleep to the sight of him staring, wide-eyed at the ceiling.

When I woke, I was on my side, Tucker spooned behind me. My arm clasped his to my chest, his hand resting on my boob. Our legs were tangled up together, and sunlight peeked in from the window behind us.

“Tucker?” I whispered, turning my head.

He grunted, his eyes were still closed. He moved his nose into my hair, breathing in. He pulled me tighter to him and I felt his hardness between my legs, the events of the night flashing through my mind. His hands, his mouth. My legs moved together, creating some friction, trying to free the ache in my pelvis, when Tucker absently shifted his hips into me.

“Oh fuck,” he said, eyes flying open. He released his hold on me and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

I turned around and sat up.

He groaned and his eyelashes fluttered, a hand reached for my chin. “I forgot how beautiful you are in the morning.” His fingers slid up my jawbone and covered my face. He pushed it away gently. “Don’t look at me.”

I smiled.

He sighed, darting his eyes between mine, and said softly, “You’re making it worse.” He looked at his baseball shirt, staring at my nipples through the cotton, then blinked rapidly andasked, “Um, are you – are you okay?”

I knew what he was asking. I nodded.

“I need you to say words, Ella.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m good.”

“Okay.”

I glanced at the door. “I smell coffee.”

“Ritchie. I’ll go get you some.” He sat up and stretched. He hinged forward and immediately sank his mouth into the side of my neck. He pulled back, grimacing. “Sorry. Sorry.”

As Tucker rolled off the bed and walked to the door, I looked at our clothes on the floor. The condom wrapper beside my boot. The bedroom door was open, so I listened to him and Ritchie talk, and I walked to the bathroom where there was further evidence of our night knotted up in his trashcan.

I’d had sex with Elijah Tucker.

And I really wanted to do it again.

People do things with their friends all the time and it doesn’t mean anything romantic. I wondered if we could be like that. Tucker and I, casually having sex. Would he be gentle and adoring every time or would each time be new and exciting? He did things to my body that I didn’t know were possible. He knew what he was doing, and I wanted to experience it all.

I steadied my breath and tried not to think about it before walking into the kitchen, afraid that he could tell with one look that I wanted him again.

The oven clock read 10:30. Ritchie leaned against the kitchen counter, showered and sharply dressed.

I’d met Ritchie several times at that point, he had Tucker had become fast friends and he knew Johnny’s roommate Wyatt from high school. He knew I went to school several hours away and stayed overnight when I came to visit. He knew Johnny was my best friend, that I’d known Tucker since birth, and he would have no reason to think it strange that I just exited Tucker’sroom. I was well acquainted with Tucker in nothing but boxers and Ritchie wouldn’t bat a lash at me wearing Tucker’s shirt or being bra-less.

The first time we met, Tucker told him about me, “If you like girls who are ladylike and proper, you’re not going to like this chick.” I think I slapped him in the balls then, and he collapsed to the ground and groaned, “See?”

---