Page 73 of Absolutely Pucked
“Not until years later, but yeah.” Tucker let out a laugh that only sounded a little better. “Our lives were complicated. Our parents fucking sucked, and for me, it felt like eat or be eaten. He took the brunt of that sometimes. But he wasn’t very nice to me back then either.”
“No.” I could imagine he hadn’t been very nice at all. Not after that.
Tucker glanced over at me. “Is whatever you have going on about your family?”
“My—oh. No. Fuck them,” I said, waving him off. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately about whether or not people deserve second chances. Like, if you do something monumentally fucked-up, but you’re sorry about it—do you get a second chance?”
“I don’t know,” Tucker said. “I had second chances. Sometimes third and fourth chances too. Boden had every right to hate my guts for being such a little shit when we first met, but he never did.”
No. Boden loved us both too much to ever feel that way.
“If it’s you,” Tucker said after a long beat, “and if it was me, it wouldn’t matter.” He paused for a beat. “Isit me? Did you hit on Deo or something?”
I burst into startled laughter. There was hope blooming in my chest, but I was too afraid to embrace it. He would forgive me for a lot of things, but this? “You know I’d never hit on him. He’s not my type, and I’d rather see you happy.”
Tucker’s face settled into something softer. “I am happy. I am so fucking happy, bud. Like…I don’t even have the words. And I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be an insufferable prick about all this.”
“No,” I told him. I yanked him by the back of the neck and knocked his forehead into mine. “I want that for you. You have no idea.”
He nodded, then eased back away from me. “Whatever it is—when you’re ready—you can tell us. You know that, right?”
I did. But I also knew he had no idea what he was asking for.
“Thanks.”
He nodded, then kissed my cheek before grabbing the door handle and letting himself out. I watched as he made his way toward the house, my breath stuttering in my chest, my eyes and throat hot from all the guilt…and also the lack of it because minute by minute, falling for Killian was starting to eclipse all those bad feelings.
I would still choose Tucker.
But only for now.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
KILLIAN
I wantedhim to tell Tucker. I needed him to tell Tucker. I couldn’t keep living in this fucking limbo. Lying in the bed, listening to them laugh, was gutting. Hearing my brother’s voice had been almost too much because I knew that tone wouldn’t last if he knew that I was hiding in the back room.
With Ford’s goodbye kiss, I realized then and there that he was reaching the point where he might never tell Tucker the truth. I could see the bargaining in his eyes. He wanted this, and he wanted the life he was living. But there was no way to reconcile both.
I knew my brother too well. He was happier now, but he wasn’t a fundamentally different person. He was still the stubborn bastard he’d always been. When he had his mind made up about something, nothing could sway him.
I could show him a mountain of evidence about Delia and everything she’d said to me—I could have had cameras documenting my every step to prove that Ihadn’t swept into his hospital room and stolen her right out from under him, but it wouldn’t have mattered.
He decided for himself what was the truth, and I could either accept it, say my apology and leave, or I could put Ford in the worst situation he’d ever been in.
The echo of his kiss was still burning on my lips when I heard the front door open. I was still too afraid to venture out there. Almost all of his friends had keys to his place, and they were starting to get suspicious. But it didn’t take long for me to recognize his gait.
He appeared in the doorway a moment later with a plate of food. “How did I know you weren’t going to eat?”
“I was afraid Boden was going to come back,” I confessed, taking it from him. He’d reheated it, and I shoveled a few bites into my mouth before gulping down the water he’d also brought. Beside me, Ford was busy stripping down and taking his leg off. “How was the drive back?”
He said nothing for a long time. I didn’t watch—I knew I had permission, but I wanted to give him a few moments of privacy because it felt like I was taking up all of his space now. He slipped into loose pajama pants, then hopped over to the bathroom.
By the time he returned, I had cleared my plate, and he was standing in front of me, shirtless, eyes hungry, but the rest of his face looked conflicted.
“If you don’t want me to bring up Tucker again—” I started.
