Joey
I opened my eyes slowly, relishing the ache that coursed through my body. In spite of the fact that I’d fallen asleep wedged between a steering wheel and Tucker’s petite frame, I felt rested. And utterly satisfied. I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face
She wriggled against me, and I tightened my arms around her waist immediately.
“If you keep doing that,” I growled. “I won’t be held responsible for my actions. And it’s daylight now. Evan’s neighbours will talk.”
She laughed softly, and wriggled again.
“Dammit, Tucker.”
She pouted, and the look was so uncharacteristic that I burst out laughing.
“It’s your loss anyway,” she told me.
I traced a finger up her bare shoulder. “I’m well aware of what I’m missing. But that doesn’t mean I want the whole neighbourhood to be aware, too.”
She sat, and pulled her t-shirt on, then sighed. “I’ve got class anyway. And I should go home first.”
“Let me drop you off.”
For a second, I thought she was going to say no, then her face softened. She gave me a sweet smile.
“All right, Joey. This one time, I’ll let you drive me home. I just have to grab my pants from inside Evan’s place.”
“You are not walking across his lawn with no pants.”
She ignored me, and scrambled out of the truck. Part of me was irritated at her blatant disregard for decency. Most of me was too busy enjoying the view as she scurried across the yard to Evan’s house. The perfect curve of her backside peeked out from under the t-shirt, and I grinned as I realized she hadn’t put her underwear back on.
An intrusive tap on the window spoiled the moment. Reluctantly, I rolled it down and greeted the familiar, hulking figure.
“Morning, Pete. You can let my father know I quit. Guess that means you’re out of a job, too.”
“Not at all. Just wanted to give you your parting paperwork,” the other man said.
He dropped a thin folder in my lap, then walked away. My mouth went dry as I scanned the contents of the file, flipping through the pages frantically. It was a press release.
Activist's Father Turns Arsonist, it read. Where are your donations really going?
There was a bit about a fire, and a picture of Tucker waving a placard. Shit. My father was making good on his promise to drag her name through the mud. Had he turned it in to the papers yet? I needed to stop him.
I shoved the whole thing into the glove box just as Tucker came back to the truck.
“You okay?” she asked. “You look like you swallowed something disgusting.”
I forced a laugh. “Yeah. Morning breath. You want a kiss?”
“Gross.”
I drove her to her dorm, dropped her in front of the building with a vague promise of lunch, and kicked the truck into drive. I drove to my parents’ house blindly, oblivious to stop signs and streetlights and everything but my need to confront the man who wanted to break Tucker’s heart.
I parked the truck on the grass in front of the fountain and took the walkway in three strides. I flung the front door open and hollered at the top of my lungs.
“Dad!”
He answered me calmly. “In here, son.”
I followed the sound of his voice to the kitchen, and stared at him in disgust. He sipped his espresso as if nothing in the world was wrong. Fury at my father came quickly, overpowering everything.
“What the hell did you do?” I demanded.
“I didn’t do anything,” my dad replied. “Nobody is responsible for this situation but you.”
“I didn’t write a press release, damning Tucker and everything she’s worked so hard for.”
“No,” he agreed. “But you entered into a relationship with her that forced me to expose her background.”
“Please, Dad. Just let it go.”
He took another sip of his coffee. “This deal is worth over three million to me. Ten percent of that was yours. All you had to do was tell me how to stop the girl from moving forward with her plan. Instead, you turned your back on me once again. You jumped into bed with her, and you fucked all three of us over.”
“Jesus, Dad? Is that seriously how you see it?”
“Is there any other way?”
“About a hundred of them.”
“Get out, Joey.”
“Gladly.”
***
I shoved clothes into my suitcase haphazardly. Jeans, t-shirts, underwear, all balled up on top of one another.
Toothbrush, shaving cream, razors. Dammit. How long would it take him to cut off my credit cards? Not long. My dad was a man of action. I had cash in the bank, but it was almost all tied up with the family name. I should probably prepay for a few weeks at a hotel somewhere. Or withdraw some cash and make a deposit on an apartment somewhere.
My phone rang then, and it reminded me that my dad would probably cut that off, too. I answered it with a growl.
“Speak.”
"Joey?" The soft voice made me thankful for the fact that I was sitting, because my knees were suddenly weak.
"How did you get this number?"
"It's nice to hear your voice, too," she said.
"Five years without a word, and you want me to be happy you're calling?"
"I was giving you space."
"Like hell you were. I called you a thousand times in the month after - " I swallowed against the lump in my throat, and continued in a thick voice. "You were giving yourself space."
"I don't want to argue."
She waited. What did she want me to say?
"You caught me at a bad time," I told her after a lengthy pause.
"A bad time? So there are some good times now?"
I didn't bother to answer that. "I can't stay on the phone."
"So you won't be there this afternoon?"
"Where?"
"I thought we might be seeing each other at the wedding."
Shit.
"The family wants you there," she added.
"No, they don't"
"I want you there."
The four word sentence, spoken in a voice I’d loved so much, made my heart hammer in my chest. I nearly laughed.
“I’ll consider it.”
***
I drove to campus, knowing Tucker had classes most of the day, then scoured the halls of the science wing until I spotted her. I needed to get to her before the press release did.
She was hunched over, looking defeated. My sweater - I must've left it at her house on Tuesday night - was bundled around her shoulders, making her appear tiny. Even from where I stood, I could see the pain on her face.
Shit. Did that mean she’d already seen the paperwork?
I took a few guilty, hurried steps toward her. Then stopped. She was staring up at a gangly man in glasses.
Mark.
Tucker was too good for him. She was too pretty. Too smart. Too deserving.
What had she ever seen in that guy?
I ducked into a nearby doorway, where I could watch without interfering.
She turned her face up to meet his gaze.
"It's one date, Tucks."
His words, in a too-charming-for-life voice, made my stomach roll. Her hesitant nod twisted my heart. She was agreeing to see him. To a date. Fury clouded my vision as Tucker hurried away.
I was going to chase her down, but as I caught sight of the knowing smile on Mark's face, I changed my mind.
Someone needs to teach that guy a lesson.
By the time I reached him, I was already keyed up. I wanted to punch the douchebag in the face. Instead, I grabbed him by the ridiculous tie he was wearing and pulled. Hard.
"What the fuck, man?" he yelped.
I ignored his protests and dragged him into a study kiosk.
"You need to back the hell off," I commanded.
"Are you serious?"
Idiot.
"Do I look like I'm kidding?"
"Is this about Tucker?" he replied.
"No shit."
"Are you sleeping with her?"
I punched him gently in the gut. A warning. To his credit, he just winced and took a step back.
“That’s none of your goddamned business.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
"Tucker and I are good friends," I told him in a tight voice.
"Friends?"
"That's right. And as her friend, it's my duty to tell you…She hates you. She told me how much in detail."
"So…She mentioned me?" He smirked.
"In passing."
"The fact that she still talks about me really says something, don't you think?"
I hate this guy.
"She said you were an asshole. And that you slept with a hooker."
"Call girl," he corrected, not at all phased. "I made a mistake. It won't take long for her to forgive me."
"If you hurt her, I will destroy you."
"Keep it your pants. I'm not the one in danger of breaking her heart."
"What do you mean?" I growled.
"I mean, does she know who you are?" he asked. "And does she know what you really want with her?"
I kept my face impassive. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The other man rolled his eyes. "Do you really think I didn't recognize you? Now? Or in the conference room a few days ago? Joseph Fox. Your dad's a legend, man. And I know how to use the Internet, though apparently Tucker doesn't. I know your dad's behind the plan to tear down that precious community centre."
"I worked for my dad. That doesn't mean I agree with every decision he makes," I replied.
"Is that right?"
"Make your point, asshole."
"It can't be a coincidence that she just happened to meet you now."
I grabbed him by the tie again. "So help me God, Mark, if you breathe a word of any of that to Tucker - "
"You'll do what? Tell your dad?"
"What is it you want from me?"
"First, I want you to let go of my tie."
I dropped it reluctantly. "And?"
"I want you to quit pursuing her."
"I'm not pursuing her."
Mark's expression said he didn't believe me. "Back off, or when I take her out tomorrow night, I'll make sure she gets an earful."
He adjusted his glasses, gave me a glittering smile, and walked away.
I stood very still, stifling the urge to pace like a caged animal.