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She wanted to cry and she had no idea what the hell had just happened.
“Are you okay, Miss?” the taxi driver asked as he pulled away.
Hell. No.
“I’m great,” she answered woodenly, eyes on her hands. “Never been better.”
She said no more because there were no words. How could she vocalize the paralyzing emotion inside of her? She didn’t say anything to Lisa when she walked through the door of their apartment. She gave her roommate the hand and headed for her bedroom, the beautiful dress she’d been so excited for Tucker to see catching the door when she slammed it shut.
Some incoherent sound welled up from her chest, and she yanked on the material so hard that the dress ripped. Staring down at the tattered end, she sank to the floor, shaking, the ball of emotion in her chest threatening to break free.
What. The. Hell.
She’d been lookin
g forward to this night all week and now? Now it was done and over, and it hadn’t even begun. It had crashed and burned and—her hands flew to her cheeks—it had crashed and burned in en epic way.
“Oh God,” she whispered.
Abby Mathews didn’t do meltdowns. Not even when Allison Getty had snapped inappropriate pictures of Abby in her underwear and sent them to members of their high school football team. Not even then.
Jesus, she’d just had the most intense fight ever, right in the middle of the Terrace Room at the Plaza. What would Tucker’s family think?
A knock sounded at her door and she froze.
“Abby, you gotta let me in.” It was Tucker.
Seconds ticked by, seconds that turned into minutes.
“Abby, please. We need to talk. I…we really need to talk.”
She glanced up at the door and felt a spark of heat hit her in the chest. Something was still alive inside her, and it was that something that forced Abby to her feet. It was that something that let her open the door.
And it was that something that twisted hard, until she had to look away from him. Moving out of the way, she let Tucker into her bedroom and then closed the door again.
“I’m surprised Lisa let you into the apartment.” Good. She sounded normal. Calm even.
“A hundred bucks will do it,” he answered and her eyes shot up to his.
“Just kidding,” Tucker said softly. “I told her that I wasn’t leaving and I’d sleep on the front doorstep if she didn’t let me in.”
“She should have left you out there.”
“It’s cold.”
“I know.”
“Actually, it’s November so it’s more than cold. It’s freezing.”
“Good. Even better.” Abby tugged at a knot in her hair, afraid to ask but just as afraid not to. “What the hell just happened, Tucker?”
He cleared his throat. Ran his hand through the hair at his nape, hair that he’d let grow out. Hair that only last night she’d gripped between her fingers when they’d made love.
Damn. They’d been so close. As close as a man and woman could be without…
Without saying the three words that could bring them even closer. I. Love. You.
Suddenly overwhelmed, Abby turned away and muttered. “Never mind.”
