Page 5 of Drift

“Nope, just my bag.”

He got Amanda’s keys off the key holder, and sunlight nearly blinded him as he went outside, so he pulled his cap down to ease the sting before heading over to his BMW. Amanda’s Nissan sat next to his, and he didn’t envy how hot and exhausted they both looked, melting away in the heat.

Something hit the drive, close to his feet, and for a moment, Tucker twisted around. Another hit came, a stone on driveway, and as he caught a pebble dance away, he glanced up, towards the neighbour’s roof. A run of giggles and feet on pathway came at the end of the drive, winning his attention more, and two girls, one fifteen, the other maybe touching nineteen, they stopped on the road, just beyond the pathway, phones in hand as they huddled in close. Despite wearing basic jeans and a crop top, the eldest carried Asian heritage beautifully, all topped off with a Japanese red cheery blossom hair clip that almost managed to tame the long black strands.

Too much focusing on the cherry blossom clip, Jase. Christ, it’ll get you arrested.Look away.He winced. Botanist by heart. He really was just taken by the startling cherry blossom clip.

Tucker rolled his gaze. They stood right next to each other but still seemed to talk through text as the Japanese girl in the crop top let out a laugh that had Tucker smiling. It carried that “It’s still summer, I don’t give a damn” ease to it as sound from a TikTok video or whatever social platform they watched drifted over as well.

Crop Top’s younger friend flicked through to something else, then held her phone up high, bracelets clinking and catching the light as she rested her head on Crop Top’s shoulder. Either she snapped a photo of them both, or she started a recording. Tucker wouldn’t have minded, but they had their backs to him, with an angle to her phone that could put him in the picture too.

That made him cough very uncomfortably. “Hey, ladies.”

Crop Top glanced back, her smile falling as Phone Girl who’d snapped the picture shifted a little behind her, hiding her phone. She was smaller, more mousy in looks and… Christ, he hadn’t meant to scare either of them.

“Any chance you could delete that for me and just move over to the park there to take that? Just for privacy?” He tried a softer look. “Please?”

Crop Top folded her arms, all Japanese attitude looking to come out, then Phone Girl quickly shook her head and whispered something before looking Tucker’s way.

“Oh, sorry, Mr Hughes. Sure.” Crop Top bit at her lip, nerves showing through, and her English was perfect, even carrying that slight cockney twang. “Don’t tell Mrs Hughes, okay?”

Huh? They were more scared of Amanda than… him? That was a first. Theywerestudents, though. Or knew of Amanda at least. Maybe, Crop Top did look a little old for high school. He wasn’t Mr Hughes, though. Only they wouldn’t know that. Him and Amanda, they’d not gotten around to marriage, because they were so comfortable with life as it was.

Tucker slipped the car key in the lock. “Mum’s the word,” he said, winking over.

Crop Top nodded, and she took her friend’s phone and messed with it a moment. “Deleted,” she said not looking up for a moment. “You wanna make sure, sir?”

He shook his head. “Your phones, your privacy. This is just my home, my privacy, okay?”

He got a nod back, a slight blush. “Got it.”

They headed away, lost again to whatever they’d been watching, and Tucker snorted a smile. “Well that could have gone a lot worse.” He made a grab for the car handle.

“Shit.” Yanking his touch away, he sucked at the scratch he got to his finger. It stung, but only because it had caught him off guard. Pricks he was used to, both in and out of the garden.

With a wince, he ran a touch under the handle again, more careful this time, but only smooth plastic met his touch. Not much damage had been done to his finger, just a pinprick. It bled a little, and as he crouched down, checking the ground, he kicked himself for going all kid and sucking at the wound.

The blocks to the driveway stayed clear bar a few pebbles, but closer to the right driver’s side tyre, a small thorn played innocently on the floor.

Tucker picked it up with a sigh and turned it around a few times.

Pyracantha, or firethorn. They really weren’t as evil as the name suggested. An ornamental shrub, the berries were just starting to come through, and the spikes they came with were no taller than a small fingernail.

Tucker stood and shook himself down, more his sleeves, and true to form, a few more fell free, tangled in his jumper.

“Cheeky beggars,” he said, sucking at his finger again. They weren’t poisonous, but—“Buy me dinner first next time, okay?”

He grabbed Amanda’s bag from the passenger seat, then carefully picked up the thorn before locking the car and trashing the thorns in the brown compost recycling bin sitting on the drive. Then he headed back in and gave Amanda her bag before hitting the shower.

“Hey, you died up there?”

Hearing Amanda’s call, Tucker stepped out of the shower, loving how a colder breath played around his soaked skin. From Amazon’s Alexa in the bedroom, “Every Breath You Take” by The Police drifted through, and away from the dirt of the garden, Tucker hummed along with someone watching as he towel-dried his hair. He couldn’t remember asking Alexa to play it, but as his boxers, jeans, and jumper were piled in the washing basketin the corner, fresh clothes folded on the toilet seat, he kind of figured who’d been up here with him and had requested it as she’d no doubt got an eyeful.

He liked the choice: boxers, shorts, no T-shirt. He wasn’t God’s gift by any standard, already homing a dad-bod despite having no kids to cement it. Hair was wild, like someone had planted him and left him to grow unattended, only a cap offering a way to tame it. He left all style and grace to Amanda, and he hoped… hoped to god any kids they did have came out with her looks, with maybe his ability to cook.

A tickle came at his thumb, and he glanced down at his hand, wondering if the touch attached itself to some deeper hurt over needing a kid standing next to him.

“Well look at you there, huh?”

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