Waking Up (19 page)

Walking over to the ladies, I try to appear calm even though on the inside all my organs feel like they’re twisting around each other.  Christ, I feel like a teenager going to ask a girl to dance for the first time.  My palms are sweaty and I have butterflies in my stomach.  Clearing my throat, I look at Adriana. “Would you like me to bring anything inside while I’m heading in?”

“Look at that, Adri.  He’s hot and he’s thoughtful,” Mickayla slurs around the straw of her drink.  Hadn’t noticed she switched from wine.  Better watch out for her now.

Adriana shakes her head at Mickayla.  “No thanks, Tucker.”  I love how my name sounds falling from her lips.  I can think of so many positions I’d like to have her in and other ways I’d like to hear her say my name and not one of them is appropriate.  “Thanks for thinking of me.”  The smile she gives me almost drops me on the spot.  She really has no idea how much I’ve thought of her all day.  How much she affects me.  I smile back, at least I think I do, and turn to walk away when I see Alahna smiling at me.  A whole smile.  Holy shit.  I think I just stopped breathing for a second.

Victory is mine.

I smile as big as I can at her because… well, hell, I’m on cloud fucking nine right now.  I practically run for the house because I need a minute to revel in the euphoria of winning a round with Alahna.  My euphoria quickly ends when I hear horrible retching sounds coming from the bathroom.  I found Deidre.

Knocking gently on the door so as to not scare her. “Deidre, it’s Tucker.  Are you okay?”  Yeah, I know it’s a stupid question.  “Do you want me to get Kale or one of the ladies for you?”  I feel completely inadequate helping her, but I don’t want to leave her either.

“Can you get Kale, please?”  I hear her say softly.

“Sure.  I’ll be right back,” I say quickly.  Probably too quickly.

Walking as fast as I can, trying not to look panicked, I head straight for Kale and quietly tell him Deidre’s sick in the bathroom. When he breaks into a run for the house, everyone else knows something’s up.  Five sets of eyes train on me and I swallow, suddenly feeling parched.

I tell them Deidre is sick which sends the ladies scurrying for the house.  Preston and Blake tell me I’ve done good and that Kale is real protective of Dee.  They joke that I earned some brownie points with the girls, too.  I want to tell them if I were with Adriana, I would be real protective, too.  But I obviously can’t say things like that.  Not without getting my ass beat to a pulp.

Minutes later, the girls walk out with Kale and Deidre in tow.  Deidre’s looking a little gray and leaning on Kale.  She apologizes for getting sick my first night here which is crazy.  I tell her to feel better.

Kale shakes my hand and tells me he hopes to see me again soon.  That breaks through one of my walls, does something to me.  Hearing him say he’d like to see me again like a friend would say to a normal person.  Somewhere in my head I hear Adriana tell Kale she’ll pack up plenty of leftovers and drop them off tomorrow.  I see her pat Deidre’s head and hear her tell Deidre to rest, feel better, and she’ll check on her in the morning.  I hear everyone say goodbye to the couple, watch the handshakes, the waves, but I see it all in a mental fog.  As they walk away, I’m unable to say anything back to Kale.  I smile at him and hope that he knows what that meant.  

Shit.

I’m no good at this.  I’ve only got Eddie and before him, there’s only one person I ever let get close enough that I called him a friend.  

Why do I want to let these people get to know me?  The real me.

I’m a fucking mess.

Adriana and Preston go in to get the desserts.  I feel heat start in my stomach and rise to my face and it’s not a good heat.  It’s a pissed off heat.  I don’t know why I’m reacting like this and I’m not sure how to feel about being bothered like this.

Watching them walk out, I can instantly see there’s a problem.  Something to do with the key lime pie.  He’s asking her, none too gently, why she made it and she’s shrugging, but she looks ready to cry.  Motherfucker.  If he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t have to eat it.  Kinda rude, isn’t he?  I’m about to head over and ask if there’s a problem, but Alahna must have read my mind because she’s there, effectively ending whatever issue was going on.

I will find out what that was all about later when musclehead is gone.

“Anyone ready for dessert?” Adriana asks, but I can see she’s still shaken up.  Alahna can see it too because she slaps Preston on the arm, giving him a look that should drop him dead where he stands.  I’m liking her more by the minute.

Serves you right for hurting my Adriana asshole!

I don’t bother correcting my thought process this time because I’m on to thinking of how to make her feel better when Mickayla stumbles up next to me.  “So, Hot Stuff,” she says, head tilted in my direction.  “I take it my friend here has been treating you like an everyday Joe Schmoe, huh?”  I shake my head not sure where she’s going with this and look at Adriana who shrugs.  “Probably gave you the line about her parents and famous people– blah, blah, blah.”  She’s quite tipsy now and her words are slurring.

I look at Adriana again and, again, she shrugs, completely unaffected by what her friend is saying.

Leaning in closer to me like she has a secret, she yells into my ear, “It’s because she lives like a rock star.  She’s not intimidated by you people.”  I let the “you people” comment go because I don’t think she means any offense by it.  But, man, my ears are ringing at the moment.

“Mickayla!”  Adriana is affected now.  “That is so not true.  I do not live like a rock star.”

“Do too,” Mickayla argues.  One thing I’ve learned in life, never argue with a drunk woman.  “Look at this house Alex built you.  It’s a fucking palace.  Has she giving you the tour yet, Hot Stuff?” she asks, returning her attention to me.

“No, I haven’t,” Adriana answers for me.  “I was kind of busy getting ready for tonight.  I’ll give him the tour tomorrow.”

“Ohhhh.  So, he hasn’t seen the gym or the home theater or the indoor, outdoor pool then?”  Mickayla, although drunk is still sharp, but I don’t know why she thinks I’ll be impressed by this stuff.

“No, Mick, he hasn’t,” she says with a sigh.

“You’ve seen the kitchen though?”  I nod.  “Fucking amazing, right?”  I nod again.  “Good enough for the best chefs in the world if you ask me, but it was built for our Adri.”

“No one did, ask you that is,” Alahna pipes in.  Not for the first time tonight, I see her as Adriana’s protector and I can’t help but snicker at her comment.

Mickayla completely ignores her comment.  “Just wait till you see her bedroom.  Fucking rock star written all over that bitch.”  Silence thickens the air like an invisible veil enveloping the group.  Adriana blushes, staring at her hands, discomfort clear on her face.  It kills me to see her so miserable.

“You see, Adriana and I signed an agreement today, a non-disclosure agreement, I guess you could call it.  It covers the no pictures, no internet postings, no press, no phone or text, yada, yada yada.  It also stipulates no sexual relations.  So, there’s no reason for me to see her bedroom unless it’s part of the tour.”  I’m lying through my teeth in what I hope is the best performance of my life.  Thank God Adriana had mentioned this little contract idea earlier.  There’s nothing I’d like more than to have sex with Adriana, but Mickayla doesn’t need to know that.

Mickayla starts choking on her drink, Adriana’s shoulders visibly relax, Alahna grins at me, and the guys tip their beers my way.  I’d say that’s a sign I did good.

“Adri, you agreed to that?  Really?”  Mickayla’s sputtering.  “I think I need to start giving you free sessions.”  Everyone, including me, roars in laughter.

Tension forgotten once again.

“I’m ready for dessert,” Preston says.  A round of me too’s and hell yeah’s follow.  

“I think I’ll take a slice of that key lime pie,” I say.  All eyes are on me.  I don’t know what the deal is with this pie, but Adriana is smiling at me with tears in her eyes, relief all over her face.  “It’s my favorite.  My Grams makes it for me whenever I go visit her.”  Totally true.  I don’t normally tell truths about myself, but I find myself wanting this group to know who I am.  The real Tucker.

They all watch as I take my first bite, none of them making a move to get their own desserts.  Like the hand of God is going to swoop down from the skies and snatch it away from me.  A small sound of appreciation slides past my lips.  I’m not shy about it, maybe putting on a little more of a show because of the odd behavior going on around me.  

Relief washes through me when they stop watching me and get their own desserts.  Not surprisingly, no one grabs any pie.  Adriana keep looking at it then smiling up to the sky while Preston watches her concerned.  Alahna keeps rubbing his arm and whispering something to him, but the intensity in his eyes doesn’t soften.  The worry on his face is causing butterflies to stir in my stomach.  What does he know that I don’t?

A lot stupid.  He’s her best friend.  DUH!

Grabbing one of all the desserts to distract myself, I get lost for a few moments in how good they all are.  Damn, Adriana is amazing!  I think I let a couple more appreciative moans slip out, but these are some damn tasty sweets.  

And, wouldn’t you know, thinking about sweets has me wondering about tasting Adriana’s sweets, how sweet she’ll taste when my tongue runs over her core.  Licking my lips, an all too familiar tightness forms in my jeans.  Being around this girl means perma-wood in my jeans.  Her earlier comments about not just morning wood come back to me, the blush of her cheeks as she admitted an embarrassing conversation, her innocence shining through, her sexiness, I have the urge to bring her out of her comfort zone, see how far I can push her, dirty her up a little, bring out her inner vixen.

Oh, hell yeah.  Perma-wood.  At least for tonight.

Mickayla and Alahna start laughing, bringing me out of my mental monologue.  Cracking a joke about the oreo truffles almost being better than sex and liking to lick balls as they lick and suck the chocolate coating has me squirming in my seat.  I can see I’m not the only one affected.  Blake’s hand is roaming up the inside of Mickayla’s thigh and Preston is eying Alahna like she should be dessert.

Adriana is standing off to the side, chuckling lightly.  I wonder how many times since Alex died she’s wanted to run from her friends, from their affectionate ways because it makes her miss him. She’s been all alone and their all so lovey dovey in front of her.  Maybe they think acting like they always did is best for her, but how can it not hurt her?

Anger slams through me and the urge to pummel someone shoots through every fiber of my being.  I’m shaking from the inside out.  This sudden outburst hit me so quickly, I didn’t have time to separate myself from everyone, calm myself.  Now I’m a walking time bomb, waiting to blow.

But, why?

How the hell is it possible I care for this women enough in one day that I’m ready to jump two men who will beat me to a bloody stump who truly haven’t hurt her? Not intentionally. Fuck! This is ludicrous.  

Slamming my beer bottle down on the table, all eyes shoot to me, but I’m too pissed off to care, the red haze is covering my eyes and I need to get away before I do something I’ll regret.  “Dammit!”  Somewhere in me, I know letting my anger get the better of me is never a good thing and these people haven’t done anything to me.  
They haven’t done anything to Adriana either.
  Christ, I need to pull my shit together.

Walking into the house, I head straight for the bathroom to splash some water on my face, anything to cool my temper.  Fuck!  What did I just do?

Pulling my big boy panties on, I head back to the firing squad.  All eyes are on me as I walk out the door.  Feeling self-conscious is not something I’m used to, but right now I want to disappear, become non-existent.  But I buck up, brave the stares coming my way.  What I see I don’t know what to do with.  Instead of the anger or irritation, confusion at the very least I expected to see, the concern etched on their faces is mind-boggling to me.  Adriana is walking toward me.  I want to tell her to go back to her friends, but my mind is in overload.  I’m not used to people caring.

“Are you alright?” she asks hesitantly.  

“Uh yeah.  Sorry I made a scene.  Had to piss real bad.  Never got to earlier because of Deidre getting sick.”  When she lets out one of her soul warming belly laughs, I want to vomit for lying to her, but there’s no way I can tell her the truth.  Tell her I think her friends should stop being so touchy in front of her.  At least until she has someone in her life.
Me.
No, not me.  I don’t deserve her.

“Geesh, is that all?  I thought all the food you ate today made you sick, too.  What a relief,” she says, squeezing my forearm.  The contact is too brief and too long at the same time.  I want her to touch me again and tell me to pack my stuff and never come back.  I’m scared if she lets me touch her, I’ll never want to stop.  I’m scared when I leave tomorrow, I’ll be forever haunted by her eyes.  

I never thought hazel eyes were pretty before.  Before today.  But each time I look at her, they’re a different color.  Right now, in the darkness, under the moonlight, they’re gray.  
Mesmerizing.
  I wonder what color they’ll be in the bright sunshine of the morning.  Will that color forever haunt my every waking thought, my every sleeping dream?

Preston cracks a joke about college, how the guys would pretty much piss anywhere so he wouldn’t have cared if I just picked a tree.  Judging by the eye rolls from Adriana and Alahna, they weren’t fans of that.  Mickayla and Blake are making out again, oblivious to the conversations going on around them.

Alahna makes a jibe that some people need to get a room which gets Mickayla’s attention.  Not one to let a jibe go, she starts razzing Alahna back about being an old married lady who has to listen through her windows to get her jollies because her and Preston have slowed down over the years.  I’m trying not to laugh as they banter back and forth about getting better with age like a fine wine and how it’s best in the newlywed phase which technically Mickayla isn’t in yet because she hasn’t gotten married, but no one says anything.