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“A little before one he texted to say you had maybe tried to match him for one too many shots and he wasn’t in shape to take you home, nor did you have a firm grasp on where you lived.”
“Oh.”
“So I came, dropped him off and tried to get you to tell me where your apartment was. I know you live in the Mission, but you kept saying The big stupid Full House one on the street where hope goes to die. And while I’m sure there are a lot of places in San Fran matching that particular description, I wasn’t about to go to all of them and hope I let you out at the right one.”
“How considerate of you. And explains why you brought me here. But it doesn’t explain why I wound up in your bedroom and not on the couch or in the guestroom.” She looked embarrassed with herself for saying it, and Tucker wasn’t sure what answer she was hoping to hear. Did she want something to have happened between them, or was she hoping he hadn’t touched her?
“You asked for the grand tour when we got here, and I obliged. When you got to my bedroom, you announced it was the prettiest bedroom on the face of the planet and promptly passed out on my bed.”
“Jesus.” Emmy nestled her head in her open palms.
“You were very ladylike about it.”
“I’m sure.”
“So I covered you with the blanket and left you there. That’s it, end of sordid tale. Everything after that you know.”
“Did I, uh…” She rubbed her temples with her fingertips then looked at him directly. “Did I do anything to really, really humiliate myself?”
“Like try to take off my pants in the car, or offer to show me how you can do a backflip?”
Emmy’s whole face went slack with horror, and Tucker managed to maintain a straight face long enough he was sure she might die of shame before he laughed. “Only the latter, I swear.”
“Did I actually try to do a backflip?”
“No, you got distracted by my neighbor’s corgi. Can you do a backflip?”
“I was in gymnastics in high school, but it’s been easily that long since I’ve tried.”
“Impressive. Next time you get tanked, I’ll need to let you show me how bendy you can get.”
“Not very anymore.”
“I bet you’re plenty bendy where it counts.”
She sputtered into her coffee mug, but when she didn’t respond with outrage or by immediately scolding him, he put his own coffee down and moved to clear the space between them. The kitchen was a good size for a condo, but there still wasn’t a hell of a lot of distance for him to cross.
Before he had time to reconsider the move, he had eliminated the gap and his thighs were up against her knees. She stared up at him, hazel eyes wide with wonder, her lips parted slightly.
“Hi,” he said softly.
“Hi.”
“You can tell me to stop.”
“I know. I’ve done it before.”
“Are you going to now?”
“I don’t know.”
It wasn’t exactly an invitation. “What are you worried about?”
“Right now? My breath, mainly.”
Tucker laughed. “And otherwise?”
“I worry about a lot of things.”
