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As Ramsey stood, Houston stepped between us, turning to me. “You come over here to harass the guys?” He shook his head. “Bad form.”
Over the top of his shoulder, I caught Tucker’s steady gaze, impenetrable to me in the moment.
I met it and held. “Maybe I just came by to say hello to my favorite rivals. Buy them a drink as a token of a game well played.”
Cullen snorted. “Fat fucking chance unless you’ve had a lobotomy in the last couple of months. Since when have you ever been gracious?”
It stung. I had a split-second flash of our freshman year in college, Cullen, Houston, and me laughing and cutting up after practice. Even then, I think we all suspected we were good enough to go all the way.
And now I was standing here being a raging ass because I was fucking jealous.
I glanced over the group and opened my mouth to apologize and make good on my offer to buy them drinks. Hell, I’d just buy their entire night. I didn’t understand what the fuck was happening to me.
Tucker’s big paw clapped down on my shoulder. “You need to go.”
“Or what?”
“Or you’re going to regret it like nothing else in your life, I promise you that.”
I perked a brow. “You’re telling me to leave?”
“I am.” I didn’t like the look in his eyes. It was closed off, unreachable. Like a stranger. “Right fucking now.”
My stomach clenched. One second, two, three, we stared at each other. His hard expression didn’t waver.
Shit, I’d really fucked up this time.
I put up my hands in a placating gesture as I pasted on a smile. “Better luck next time, gents. Sorry about that pass, Garrett. You’ll get it next time, I’m sure.” I spun on a heel, flashing a peace sign as I went. If Houston hadn’t been there, I suspected I would’ve been tackled by Ramsey or Garrett. And I supposed I would’ve deserved it, too.
But it was Tucker’s eyes I couldn’t let go of.
My phone chimed the second I exited.
Tucker:The fuck is wrong with you?
Everything, probably. I considered that question as I started down the sidewalk and opened the app to call for another Uber as I walked aimlessly. I needed the air anyway. I wondered what Tucker would say if I explained that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about those Christmas lights. Or him. That the stupid texts we sent to each other, that lying next to him in bed, made me feel something I’d never felt in my life. How did you write that into a text?
Before I could reply, he messaged me again.
Tucker:Where are you?
Me:Heading home.
I was still trying to figure out how to answer Tucker’s earlier question when a white SUV pulled into the bike lane and the window rolled down. My Uber driver.
I watched my phone the entire ride home, but Tucker didn’t reply, which I supposed meant he was done with me for the night. Possibly longer.
But when the driver pulled up to my house for the second time that night, a shadowed figure stood up from where he’d been sitting on my front porch.
Tucker.
He stepped back into the shadows as the driver’s headlights splashed across him.
“Hey,” I called out, as I got out of the car. “Sorry about earlier—”
Tucker lifted his hand, cutting me off. “Not a goddamn word until we’re inside.” He glanced meaningfully at the Uber driver, so I glanced back at him, too, and waved him off before opening my door.
Tucker followed me inside, and the second I locked the door behind him and whirled around, he was in my face. “Were you trying to out us, showing up like that?”
