Page 91 of I Wish You Were Mine

My turn to narrow my eyes at him as I let out an exaggerated sigh. “What an asshole you are, being right and shit.”

“I am right. And I can be an asshole, as you well know.” He reaches under the blanket to grab my calf, giving it a squeeze. “Finish school, Tiny. It’ll suck, but you’ll be done before the baby comes. Just because you don’t know what you’ll do with your degree now doesn’t mean you won’t eventually find a way to use it. Maybe you go into education, maybe you won’t. But I think you’ll regret quitting before you figure that out.”

One benefit of dating an older guy: his wisdom. Tuck has a point. As Mom is so fond of saying, you don’t know what you don’t know. Maybe welcoming Tuck into my life—which would mean welcoming the literal village he comes with—is the key to figuring out my career.

My future.

“It really will suck.” I pick at the blanket. “One and a half semesters left. Ugh, I want to vomit just thinking about it.”

“You were a varsity athlete who somehow also managedto ace all her classes at Chapel fucking Hill. You did that, so you can do this.” His hand creeps higher on my leg. “Especially when you have me to help.”

Grinning, I shake my head. “Thatisn’t going to help. That’s a distraction.”

“Sex clears the mind. Stirs up the imagination. Maybe that’ll help us figure out how you can use your degree in a way that lights you up.”

It’s theusthat gets me.

That makes me get up on my knees and shove Tuck back against the seat and crush my mouth to his.

“Why”—I bite his lip—“do you”—I slip my tongue into his mouth—“have to be so fuckinggood?”

He grabs my hair and yanks it, baring my throat to his lips. “I’m older than you, remember? I’ve had lots of practice.” He sinks his teeth into my neck before soothing my skin with his tongue. “Now tell me how much you owe.”

I spend the night with Tuck. Again.

I come multiple times. Again.

Again, I sneak back to my apartment in the morning without Katie noticing. I shower and do some studying. It’s less painful than it usually is, maybe because I’m still floating from the great sex and better date I had with Tuck last night. Or maybe because I’ve internalized the many good reasons he laid out why I should finish my degree, and my gut is no longer at war with my head.

Whatever the case, I lean into it, and manage to bang out a paper by the time lunch rolls around.

Tuck texts me, asking if I’d like to join him and Katie for lobster rolls. I’m out the door five minutes later, drawing up short when I see a white fabric basket sitting on the staircase’s top step.

My heart flutters as I take in the basket’s contents. A packet of ginger candies, which I’ve read help with nausea. A tub of something called belly butter, along with prenatal vitamin gummies, a bath bomb, and a bag of Reese’s pumpkins.

But it’s the card I’m drawn to. A piece of green construction paper folded in half, it’s decorated on the front with princess stickers and dinosaur stamps. Reaching down, I open it and a piece of paper falls out.

Scratch that. It’s a check. It’s made out to me for an obscene amount of money and signed in Tuck’s spidery scrawl.

In the subject line:Student Loans - Paid.

I never ended up telling Tuck how much I owe. I knew what he was getting at—I had a feeling he’d do something like this—so I kept my mouth shut. Actually, I opened it and went down on him, and he seemed to forget about my loans.

Only, he didn’t. Instead, he wrote me a check for way, way more than I owe in the hopes the amount would cover it.

“You bastard.” I hold my mouth in my hand as tears fall out of my eyes left and right. “You thoughtful, generous, stupid hot bastard.”

I run down the stairs, breathless, and charge into the house. Heading up to the kitchen, I hear Katie telling Tuck she doesn’t like peas or lobster but she’ll eat the bun he gave her, and can he please put butter on it? Also, can she have a treat if she eats it all?

“No treat unless you eat your vegetables too,” Tuck replies.

My footfalls are loud on the steps. Katie gasps. “Mare! Did you get our care package? I wanted to knock on your door, but Daddy said you were doing work for school.”

“I did get the care package!” I cross the kitchen to wrap Katie in a hug. She clings to me like a baby monkey, so I lifther onto my hip and kiss both her cheeks. “Thank you very much. I loved it. Well, most of it.”

Katie frowns. “Mare, why are you crying? Is you not feeling well?”

“Because—”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com