I pop my hip to the side and say, “I’m almost a graduate. I have to start expanding my bar options. Downtown is so last year.”
Like second nature, I open up my arms and pull him into a hug, which he returns, bringing me into his familiar arms. Since Sadie is one of my best friends, I’ve spent a lot of time with Tucker, a lot of time talking him down when he and Sadie would get in a fight, and a lot of the time lecturing him on how to handle Sadie who also dealt with her fair share of childhood drama.
“It’s good to see you. Where’ve you been? I didn’t see you at Smilly’s for her Christmas gathering. You missed out on dirty Pictionary.” Smilly is the queen of the group. She throws the parties whereas I watch over the parties, ready to spring into action when needed.
“Wasn’t my scene.” He shrugs and then takes a sip of his drink.
Wasn’t his scene? Translation: he didn’t want to see Sadie with her new boyfriend who everyone loves. Hell, Tucker even liked Andrew before he knew Andrew was dating Sadie. It’s hard not to like the guy. And I would never say this to Tucker, but Andrew is perfect for Sadie. He has shown her joy, contentment, and the softer side of life, qualities from a man she needed . . . desperately. Not that Tucker couldn’t give her those things, but it was as if they were stuck and couldn’t find their way out of the quicksand sucking them both in.
Tucker has always been somewhat serious and somber, as if he carries the burdens of many on his broad shoulders. He hid this from most, but I spent a lot of time on the outside watching my friends hurt each other, time after time. Looking at him now, he still seems somber and serious, but also . . . melancholy. When he smiled in greeting, it almost looked as though he doesn’t do that as often as he used to. Smile, that is.
Knowing diving into the reasoning he avoided the group at Christmas would be a tad cruel, I say, “Well, we missed you. It’s never the same without you.”
“Maybe next time.” It’s a generic response, one I don’t think he means. I’m not sure we’ll ever see Tucker at another party, and that makes me sad.
“How’s life? How’s the job?”
He nods. “Good. I’m a project manager which has its good and bad days.” He glances over at Adalyn and Logan and nods, “Boyfriend?”
I laugh as I look back at Logan and shake my head. “No, just a friend.”
“Huh.” He takes a sip of his drink and then looks at me with a tilt of his head. “The way he’s staring at you, you could have fooled me.”
“Just friends.” I pause and then ask, “Want to meet them? You’re just sitting here over by yourself, might be nice to have some company.”
“How do you know I’m not waiting for someone?” he asks, a smirk on his handsome face.
“Are you?”
“Nah.” He chuckles and stands from his chair. With his arm wrapped around me, he walks me back to my friends.
When I approach, Adalyn’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their sockets. It’s a natural reaction when in Tucker’s presence. He’s gorgeous with his dark blonde, messy hair that’s trimmed shorter on the sides and thick on top, his five o’clock shadow, light blue eyes, and unforgiving, hardworking muscles. But Logan doesn’t look as thrilled with the addition to our little get-together.
“You guys, this is my friend Tucker. We grew up together, he knows far too many secrets about me from middle school that will horrify you and if he wants to keep his balls intact, he will keep those stories to himself.”
Leaning over to shake hands with Adalyn and Logan, Tucker quickly winks at me and says, “We’ll see.” He turns his attention to my friends, pulling from his outgoing personality that never seems to fail him, and shakes their hands. “Tucker, nice to meet you. It’s rare I get to meet people outside our little friend circle, especially friends of Emma’s. Whenever I see this girl,” he wraps his arm back around my shoulder and squeezes me tight, “she’s either butterfly stitching someone’s head or patting down their ass with Neosporin. I’m glad I caught her without her first aid kit tied around her waist and instead with a drink in her hand.”
“You’ve never seen her drink?” Adalyn asks and then says, “Oh, I’m Adalyn by the way.”
“Ugh, I’m the worst,” I reply. “Tucker, this is Adalyn and Logan. Sorry.”
He nods at them and then says, “I’ve seen Emma drink, but I’ve never seen her get drunk.” He smiles down at me. “She always took care of us.” The sentiment is sweet. I know my friends from back home appreciate me, but it’s always nice to hear on occasion.
“You’ve never seen Emma drunk?” Adalyn asks. “Wow, that’s surprising since I feel like I see drunk Emma more than sober Emma.”
“Seriously?” Tucker’s eyes shoot up to his hairline.
“No.” I playfully swat at Adalyn. “She’s lying. I don’t drink that much. But when I have time off and need to relax, I might throw back a few Old Fashioneds.”
“And shots of whiskey,” Logan adds, tipping his drink back into his mouth.
“Well, fuck, I’ve never seen this side of Emma.” Tucker rubs the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on me. “Next party, you’re getting your ass wasted. No excuses.”
“That’s if you show up.” I’m joking, but there is a layer of darkness that blankets his expression, and it makes me sad. Tucker is different to most guys. He masks his demons and always tries to put on a good show for everyone around him, which he’s doing right now.
My question is, why is he drinking tonight? Alone. Does he do this often? I’ve been so consumed with my life that I’ve neglected catching up with my friends. How long has he been going to bars by himself? Is this something I need to be concerned about? My need to know—to care—kicks in, but not here. He’s not an open book when it comes to his life, especially in front of people he doesn’t know very well.
Two fingers push against the wrinkle in my brow. I look up to Tucker who pulls away. “What’s with the worried face?”
“She has no place to live,” Adalyn answers before I can even formulate a response. “We got evicted from our place a few days ago and have to be out in two days.”
“Adalyn,” I chastise, not wanting Tucker to know about my woes. I’m the girl who always has everything together, the friend who can see ten steps ahead.
“You don’t have a place to live?” Tucker asks, concern in his voice.
Squeezing my eyes together for a brief second, I turn to him and say, “Eh, I’ve got it handled. Just waiting to hear back from a few places, that’s all.”
“They all said no.” Come on, Adalyn! What is she drinking over there, truth serum?
“It’s all right, she has a place to stay,” Logan says, nudging me with his shoulder.
Leaning over the bar to see me, Adalyn says, “There is no way you’re going to share a three-bedroom apartment with six men.”