Waking Up (20 page)

The guys are standing back, watching their women, arms crossed over their chests, shit eating grins on their faces.  They so think they’re getting laid tonight.  I mentally laugh at them and cheer them on at the same time.

It dawns on me that Adriana has slipped away and I find that force pushing me toward her once again.  I know being in close proximity to her is a bad idea.  It muddles my brain, turns my thoughts to mush, and kicks my libido into overdrive.  Walking over to where she’s loading the food into containers, I run my fingers over her shoulder, needing some contact with her.  The second it takes her to turn around feels like hours, the breath I’m holding heavy on my chest.  When she looks at me over her shoulder, I swear the stars shine in her eyes and I’m paralyzed, unable to move, unable to look away.

“What’s up?”

Such an innocent question, but she has no idea the multiple directions of my thoughts, how my brain is spiraling.  All this time around her, how it’s affecting me.  How I want to know her.  Protect her.  Heal her.  The last thought stops my chaotic thinking.  She’s broken.  Leave before you do more damage.

Grabbing a dish, I ask, “Want some help?”  I’m blessed with one of her show stopping smiles and she nods.

Words become unnecessary as we find a groove that works.  We stand side by side, silently filling the mound of empty containers.  Each time our hands accidentally touch or our arms rub against each other, I feel electricity shoot through my body, awakening every nerve in its path.  My cock jumping with each innocent touch.  

I find myself inching closer to her when she’s got her back to me, trying to close the gap so those touches become more frequent, wanting the electricity to shoot from me to her.  Needing to see if she feels this spark, too.

I can feel the eyes of the others on me and Adriana, but I’m too far immersed in this bliss bubble to care.  Let them look.  I’m sure the guys think I’m being a pussy and the ladies assume I’m trying to get in Adriana’s pants.  Not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but right now, all I want are these…
stolen moments.
  Standing beside a beautiful woman, slopping food, grazing fingers, feeling my heart race at a mere touch.

That’s what I want.  Damn what the rest of them think.

Filling the last dish, I’m filled with a deep disappointment, knowing those little touches are over.  I have no reason to be close to her, to accidentally (on purpose) bump into her, breathe her scent in, feel her soft skin against mine.  She’ll go about her night completely unaware of the mental anguish I feel in her presence.  Feeling like someone has just told me my puppy died, I’m unprepared when she launches into my arms thanking me for all my help.

Standing there frozen, I peek over her shoulder at her friends who look more shell shocked than I think I feel.  Not one to give up an opportunity, I wrap my arms around her petite frame and notice how much I like the feel of her in my arms, welcome the warmth of her against my chest.  It’s fleeting as it dawns on her what she’s done.

In front of her friends.

Blushing, she pushes off from my chest, tucks her hair behind her ear, and stares at her feet.  Wringing her hands together, embarrassment pulses off her in giant waves.  Still reeling from my need to touch her and not liking her feeling uncomfortable, I act on impulse. I lay my hand on her cheek not caring what her friends will think of my actions.

I wait for her eyes to raise.  To look at me.  I want to tell her I liked helping her.  Have her see my sincerity.  I don’t want her embarrassed.  I want things I don’t understand.  Hell, I’m not sure I know what I want, but she just leaned into my hand and she’s starting to look up at me and… and what I see is almost my undoing.

Fear.

I was ready to deal with an embarrassed Adriana.  But, this look of fear on her face has me paralyzed, tongue tied.  I don’t know what to do.  I’m not sure what she’s afraid of, but it feels like my heart is about to explode from my chest.  I can only hope she’s not afraid that hugging me upset me.  I want her to do it again.  Many times please.

Keeping my hand on her cheek, locking our gazes together, “It was my pleasure helping you, Adriana.  I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” I say to her with a smile just for her, blocking out everyone behind us.  She blinks once.  Twice.  Maybe trying to process what I just said.  Then she gives me her angelic smile, the one that lights up her face and makes me want to drop to my knees, hug her around the waist, and simply cherish her.  She deserves to be cherished.

When I drop my hand from her face, I feel cold all over from the loss of contact.  She looks confused and I wonder for that brief moment if just maybe she’s feeling this connection between us, too.

Some throat clearing sounds behind us and I’m vaguely aware of the others saying it’s time for them to head out.  The moment is lost as she turns away from me.  I want to grab on to her.  Turn her back to me, look into her eyes, kiss her.  At the very least, ask her what she’s thinking of me.  But, I let her walk away because I know I’m not a good guy and, in the end, I can only offer her hurt.

Seeing her walk right to Preston digs the knife in a little deeper.  Deciding to make myself useful instead of wallowing, I start picking up the empty food dishes and bring them into the house.  It gives me a second to breathe and get my head on straight.  By the time I walk back out, I’m resolute in my decision to leave in the morning, knowing it’s best for Adriana and me.  Best for her because I’ll hurt her if I stay.  Best for me because I know she can’t love me when she’s still in love with her husband.  We’ll both lose.  

I feel better.  Have some of my usual swagger back as I step off the deck.  That is, till I see her.  Seeing the tears in her eyes, the slump to her shoulders, and hurt on her face is like a punch in the gut to me.  What the fuck is Preston saying to her to make her so sad?  All rational thought leaves my brain.  I want to kill the asshole for making her so upset.  What is it with him and his mouth?  Can’t he keep it shut?  Maybe I should.

“Tucker.  Don’t!”  She doesn’t say it loudly so it won’t attract the attention of the others, but it’s enough to rip me out of my angry thoughts.  I look at Alahna who has her hand on my forearm and understanding in her eyes.  No judgment. Then it dawns on me that I’m a few feet closer to Adriana and Preston and my hands are balled into fists.

Holy Fuck.  What was I thinking?  I never could have taken that guy in a fight.  Not that I haven’t had my share, but I know how to size a guy up and he would have beaten my ass down.  Fuck, fuck, FUCK!  I clearly can’t think where Adriana is involved.  Clenching and unclenching my fists, I try to breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth, counting to ten, stupid ass calming techniques the therapist gave me when I was young.  Didn’t work then, doesn’t work now.   Stupid bullshit.  It’s not working because each time I look at Adriana, I see she’s still upset and I want to punch Preston all over again.  I feel like the Hulk about to go green.

Apparently feeling my tension, Alahna squeezes my arm.  “They need this talk.”  She doesn’t let go of my arm.  Smart lady.  It’s the only thing keeping me grounded.  I look into her eyes and the confidence I saw all night is wavering.  What I see now is a friend who’s asking me to listen.  Shit.  No punching Preston right now.  “They’ve needed this talk for a long time, Tucker, but he was afraid.  Afraid she would break or run away.  Hell, we’ve all been afraid of that, but it was so much worse for him.”  She stops and looks at her husband and Adriana, a smile spreading across her pretty face.  “Seeing them talk, really talk, gives me hope that I’m getting my friend back.  I’ve missed her,” she whispers the last line.  “I guess we have you to thank for that.  I have you to thank for that.”  She takes another deep breath.  “Thank you, Tucker.”

When she smiles at me it’s so unexpected, it takes my breath away.  It transforms her from pretty to beautiful.  For just a second, I wonder what or who broke her to keep her from smiling like this more often.

Then her words sink in.

“Wait.  What the hell are you thanking me for?”  I’m completely flabbergasted.

“You’ve done something today, in one day, that we, all of her friends and family, have been unable to do in sixteen months.”  I’m holding my breath, waiting to hear what I could have possibly done that was so fantastic because I feel like I’ve been in Adriana’s way all day.  “You’ve gotten her to talk about Alex.”  Oh, him.  I know in my head that’s a good thing, but for reasons I’m not willing to delve into at this time, it tugs at my heart whenever I hear his name.  “He’s been off limits for us to talk about since he died,” she continues.  “His name would bring her to her knees, send her into panic attacks.  But then you show up and she’s talking about him, standing up to us, and hugging us again.”  She stops and I watch this woman who has kept her emotions so guarded all night struggle to keep it together.  “It’s like watching a miracle unfold in front of me.  I found myself thanking God the last few hours for bringing you here and for those who know me, that’s huge.  Somehow you got through to her and a bit of our girl came back.”

“What is all of that supposed to mean?” I bark out, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.  She’s making me sound like a savior which is so far from the truth.  I can’t even save myself.  My life’s a fucking mess.  She’s wrong.  She has to be wrong.

But she’s staring at me with this look that says “listen to me, I know what I’m talking about.”

She tries again to get me to understand, this time talking more forcefully.  “When Alex died, Adriana’s spirit died with him.  Physically, she’s been here with us, but it’s just been a shell of her.  She goes through the motions of living, but I don’t think she’s been feeling anything.  You look in her eyes and you see it.  They’re vacant… dead.  She’s been so… so lost.”  Her blue eyes are frozen over like they may shatter and the hurt on her face is devastating to watch.  I haven’t even known Adriana a full day and I know the vacant stare Alahna is talking about.  It unnerves me every time Adriana goes to that place.  To her personal limbo.

“I can tell she’s getting to you.”  I try to scoff at her, but she waves my attitude away.  “I see the way you watch her, how aware of her you are, the little touches you two shared, and how they affected you.”  I really want her to stop now, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.  “How you wanted to punch Preston, or worse.  Hell, Tucker, your fists were balled up and you were on a one man mission to save the damsel in distress.  Were you even aware of your actions?” she asks with a knowing smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.  “I’ve had a lot of beer tonight.”  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  Christ, I’m clinging to it like a damn life line.

“You keep telling yourself that,” she replies chuckling.  “But, let me tell you something, Mr. I’m So Hot I Can Get Any Girl I Want, or so I’ve heard, we all love Adri and are extremely protective of her.  I believe she’s getting under your skin and that scares the shit out of you.  Doesn’t surprise me with what you’ve just dealt with if any of the tabloids are to be believed, but Adri isn’t that type of woman.  She’s honest, loving, giving.  She doesn’t do anything halfway.  So, when she cares, it’s with all of her.  What I’m saying is, she isn’t some chick for you to just fuck a couple times, head back to movie land, and leave here a bigger mess than when you got here.”  Shoving her finger into my chest and getting all up in my personal space, her eyes now glacial, she drops her tone.  “Trust me when I tell you, if you do that, our entire circle of friends will find you, drag your sorry ass back here, and bury you where no one will ever find you.  Understand me, superstar?”

My mouth suddenly dry, I just nod and not because of the threat, but because she gave me the speech a friend gives when they think their girl is interested in a guy.  She thinks Adriana is interested in me.  Well shit.  I’m stupefied.  Happy, but stupefied.

“Good.  Hope we get to see more of you before you head back to Vancouver.”  I nod again, unable to tell her I plan to leave in the morning.  “Sleep well.  I’m going to go save Adriana now,” she says, playfully punching me in the arm as she walks away.  I watch as Adriana is swallowed in a bear hug from Preston, all previous sadness seems to be gone.

Thank God Alahna stopped me from making a gigantic mistake.

Still reeling from my conversation with Alahna, soaking in her unspoken words that Adriana is interested in me, I don’t see Mickayla B-lining for me till it’s too late.  Shit.  No time to brace myself to go rounds with Firecracker. Totally off my game, I just wait and let her take the first punch.

“Hey, Hot Stuff.”  She gives me a slight check with her hip.  “Little bit of an intense conversation you were having there?”  I hear the question in her voice and give her a pleading look, hoping she’ll let this go. No such luck. She puts her hands on her hips and gives me an “I’m waiting” look.

“Yeah,” I laugh nervously.  “Think my life was threatened.  Intense sums it up.”  She quirks a brow at me, never removing her hands from her hips.  Shit.  I offended her.  “I get it,”  I quickly add.  “A guy straight out of the tabloids shows up on your grieving friend’s doorstep and weasels his way into staying with her.  You all must think I’m a piece of shit.”

I normally would laugh off the threats of a woman’s friends.  Wouldn’t tell them shit.  Answer any questions.  Surprising myself, I want these people to like me.  Accept me.  Waiting for Mickayla to say something, anything, is excruciating.  

“I’ll be honest with you, Hot Stuff, at first when I saw you I was like holy fucking shitballs, Tucker fucking Stavros is at our cookout.  He’s hot.  Well, you heard me say that so now I’m just repeating myself and I doubt you need an ego rubbing.”  Man, I’m going to miss this chick and her smart mouth when I leave.  “Then, Adri dropped the bomb that she invited you to stay here… with her.  I thought she had finally lost her mind.”  The seriousness on her normally joking face is scaring me.  Playful Mickayla is gone.  “I thought this is it– she’s broken all the way.  I’ve known for a long while that she’s been putting on a front for us.  Trying to make us think she’s getting better.  Instead, she was getting more lost in her head.”