Page 87 of The Long Game

“We?”

“I’m not leaving you alone in a house without electricity and in a fucking blizzard. What happens if it snows ten feet, and you’re snowed in?”

“A bit dramatic don’t you think?”

“Maybe, but I’m not missing my chance to use my body to keep you warm.”

“Anyone ever told you you’re quite the opportunist?”

“I’d say hopeless romantic.” He smirks as he takes a flashlight and heads upstairs.

He disappears to the second floor and I try to take the reprieve to get my head straight.

A few minutes later, I hear the large bang of the guest bedroom door and the sound of something being dragged. Tucker’s loud footsteps echo up the hall and the second I get sight of what he’s doing, I shake my head. Of course, he would.

“What are you planning on doing with the guest bedroom mattress?”

“We’re sleeping on it tonight,” he informs as he pulls the queen mattress around the couch and lays it out in front of the fireplace.

“You should have grabbed my bed. It’s a king.”

“It’s too big. I would have opted for a twin, but you don’t have any up there.”

“You want to sleep on a twin? You’re the size of a small elephant.”

“Ouch, Lex.” He shakes his head. “I have fond memories of us on a twin.” His eyes find mine and memories of the lake house fill my mind. All the things we did those few days together. The things he taught me – the things we learned together – giving him my first time. I have never regretted giving that to him. Notthen and not now. Not even with how things have gone down since.

He walks back upstairs and comes down with blankets and pillows. “Why don’t you get ready for bed. I’ll get everything ready down here.”

I do as he suggests and although it’s freezing upstairs, I take my time getting ready. Not just physically but also mentally.

We still have to discuss what happens after tonight.

I walk back down the stairs, bundled up from head to toe, toothbrush in hand. I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water, since we have no running water.

Tucker grabs his toothbrush out of his bag and meets me at the sink to share the water. We stand there, side by side and staring at each other while we brush our teeth, no words exchanged, no light besides the flicker of the fire bouncing off the walls.

Now that I’ve warmed up, I take off the parka I was wearing and crawl into the makeshift bedroom he has all set up for us in a pair of thin cotton baby pink pajama pants, a thin camisole, and the bra I was wearing since this morning. I sit facing the fire. I have to admit, the bed he made for us is cozy. With a little staging, this scene is Pinterest worthy.

He walks to the front of the fireplace and pulls off his jeans. I’m not sure how a man with glutes and an ass like that finds a pair of jeans that fit.

He walks back over to his side of the bed in a pair of boxers and t-shirt and climbs into bed facing the fire as well, his long legs reaching out the length of the mattress as he crosses his ankles.

“Want to play a game?” Tucker suggests.

“A game?”

Better than the nerve-racking conversation we need to have, I suppose.

“Yeah, Truth or Dare?”

“Ok.”

“Truth or Dare, Lex.”

“Truth.”

He takes a swig of his beer. “How did you feel when you heard I bought the McKinny house?”

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