I felt it.
The connection is there, alive and strong; I know it is.
Right on cue, my phone vibrates across the kitchen island. Picking it up, I see a message from Tucker.
What are you doing?
Closing my eyes, I try to silence my racing thoughts.
It's time, Brooke. Stop letting life pass you by.
If you want Tucker, go and get him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TUCKER
Send me your address. I’ll bring dinner.
My eyes practically fall out of my head when I see Brooke’s response to my message. She’s been quiet these last few days. Outside of a few brief responses to my texts, she’s seemed distracted. As hard as it’s been, I’ve not pushed her. I’d love nothing more than to go to her, to ask her what’s wrong, but I know she’s still skittish around me.
I send her directions to my apartment, but I tell her not to pick up food and that I’ll order something for us. She replies telling me that she’ll be there in an hour, and that’s when I start to freak out. She’s coming here, to my home. That’s not a line we’ve crossed so far. We’ve only seen each other face-to-face a handful of times and we’ve been in public around other people. Even then it’s been hard not to come on strong with her. I’ve had to battle the urge not to reach out and touch her sometimes. A few times I’ve caved and brushed my hand against hers, or moved a strand of silky hair away from her face. I’m not sure how I can restain myself once we’re alone, and the last thing I want to do is scare her away by pushing her too hard too soon.
Trying to distract myself, I quickly pick up the place. Luckily, I have a cleaner who comes in a few times a week, so it’s not too bad in here. Taking a quick cold shower, I’m dressed and trying to talk myself out of changing the bedsheets when the buzzer goes.
Nerves tickle at my stomach as I walk over to open the door.
What if I fuck this up?
Swinging the door open, I’m taken aback by the beautiful sight before me.
Brooke, in one of her usual short summer dresses, long legs on show. Her golden hair is down, soft waves that frame her gorgeous face. She stares up at me, her wide eyes full of what I think might be uncertainty. Her teeth are clamped down on her plump bottom lip.
Not a word is said as I open the door wide so she can step inside. There’s an odd vibe in the air, and I can’t shake the feeling Brooke is locked inside her own thoughts.
Closing the door, I follow Brooke inside. She doesn’t look around, just keeps walking until she stands in front of the wall of glass that looks out over Beverly Hills.
“Are you happy, Tuck?” she asks softly, not turning to look at me. My eyes find hers in the reflection of the glass.
Do I answer that honestly? Do I tell her that I’ve found some moments of contentment over the years, but I don’t think I've ever been truly happy since she left? I’m still trying to formulate an answer when she continues.
“Duke asked me that today, and I couldn’t answer him. I wanted to say yes. I’m supposed to be happy. I’ve got great friends, an amazing family, the job of my dreams. But still, there’s a hole inside me. One I've never been able to fill.”
“Brooke—”
“It’s you,” her whisper is agonizingly low. I give up trying to hold back. Stalking over to her, I take ahold of her arm and turn her to face me, needing some kind of connection between us. “I know it was me. I was the one to walk away, but I missed you every day.” Her admission kills me; she blames herself, but it was me. I was the selfish prick that ruined what we had.
“Baby, there hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought about you. Wondered where you were. Missed you.”
The kiss catches me off guard. Her lips slam against mine and just like that, the past fades away. My arms circle her waist, pulling her close. Her hand slides up my shoulders, into my hair as she tries just as hard to get me closer.
There's nothing tentative about this. We meet each other lick for lick, but it’s not a battle for domination—it’s an exploration. It’s a reminder of what we are to each other. Everything about the soft stroke of her lips on mine feels right.
We stay like that, wrapped up in each other for what feels like mere seconds, nowhere near long enough. Letting my hands roam over her, I bask in the familiarity of the feelings coursing through me. Her body might have changed in places, but I still feel her. My Brooke.
Gripping her thighs, I lift her so her legs wrap around my waist. “Tell me you want this,” I ask, not letting my lips move far from hers. Her limbs tighten around me, and I feel her nodding. It’s not enough; I need the words.
Easily finding my bedroom, I kick the door open and gently drop her onto the bed. She stares up at me, her chest matching mine in its deep, uneven breaths.
“Tell me. I want to hear you say it.” The words are little more than a growl. I’m strung too tightly right now for them to be anything else.
“I want this. I want you, Tucker.” That’s all it takes for my thinly held together restraint to snap. Brooke’s dress goes up and over her head, and at the same time she makes a grab for my belt. Pushing her hands away, I take a step back from the bed.
“I’ve waited a long time for this. Let me see you.” She’s a vision. A stunning vision in white lace panties, spread out for me to worship. “Fuck, Brooke.” Just looking at
