Page 116 of Just One of the Groomsmen
“Addie—”
“Please, Tucker.” Her voice cracked, and pain lanced his heart. “Please just go.”
…
Addie woke up and looked at the empty spot next to her, and then she immediately wanted to throw the covers over her head and give up on the day.
Last night she’d asked Tucker to leave, and he’d kissed her goodbye on her forehead, way too softly, and it felt way too final.
Then she’d cried some more, because apparently dating her best friend had turned her into a girl who cries over a boy, and she didn’t even know what they were anymore, and that made her want to cry again, so she wasn’t going to think about that right now.
Last night, sorrow had gripped her, not leaving room for much else; this morning, she felt like an idiot on top of her turmoil.
She’d thought she and Tucker were getting serious. That they’d been on their way to something that might surpass serious.
That was a problem she hadn’t foreseen about being friends first. Everything automatically seemed more intimate because you already knew each other so well.
Part of her realized she had to go for the job—a big part of her—but she’d also hoped Tucker would tell her that he didn’t want her to move.
Instead he’d immediately encouraged her to go for the job that would take her hours away from Uncertainty, and while she told herself that his words didn’t mean he didn’t want to try to make them work, it still felt like that.
This was fun while it lastedwas what she’d heard.
I don’t want to get serious with you.
Don’t count on me, and don’t count me in.
Her friends were good-looking guys who got hit on a lot. Not a newsflash by any means, but experiencing it last night while caked in mud, her insecurities flaring, took it to a whole new level.
She’d already been wondering how she could compete with that, and if she was over two hours away…well, that’d be that.
Say she didn’t get the job. Then she’d get to remain in her beloved hometown, but she’d get to do so with the knowledge that a few hours could make or break her and Tucker.
That wasn’t any better.
Now she had to go on with her day and pretend the illusion of her happy, far-from-lonely life where she was crazy about her boyfriend hadn’t been shattered. Not just pretend alone in her house, either, because once the clock struck six, she forced herself into her truck and started the drive to Tucker’s place so she could fake being okay in front of all her friends.
Big freaking yay for poker night.Good thing I’ve had so much practice perfecting my poker face.
Since the thought of another one-on-one conversation where Tucker conveyed how not-serious they were made her want to vomit, Addie purposely showed up ten minutes late.
Everyone was already settled, as she’d hoped they’d be, and she slid into her usual seat to the left of Tucker.
“You clean up nice, Murph,” Shep said, and she smiled at him.
“Thanks. How’s the ankle?”
“Black and blue and hurts like a bitch, but I think I can at least walk down the aisle in two weeks.”
She urged him to lift his pants leg so she could check on it. She grimaced at the swelling and colors but also thought he’d be mostly healed by the wedding.
“What did Lexi say?” she asked, tossing in the ante so the game could get going.
“I’ve only talked to her on the phone since it happened, so I didn’t exactly tell her.”
Addie shook her head. “Of course you didn’t. You know she’s gonna find out.”
“Tonight when she comes over, I’m sure.” Shep tossed a couple of chips into the center of the pile. “I was hoping if I gave it extra time, it’d miraculously heal some more.”
