Over the next few days, I manage to have lunch with Rae and Perry—who promises to cut back on his drinking after revealing to us that his mom has been contacting him. Rae and I can’t figure out why he waited so long to tell us, but we figure we’re even since I’ve been on the hush-hush with the Tanner/Tucker situation.

I also managed to dodge two phones calls from my mom, because I’ve been busy at work every day, like I am now.

However, I did talk with Tanner twice. Both conversations were awkward as hell, and it wasn’t only on me. He was quiet and distant. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I didn’t. Instead I sat in silence on the other end, feeling guilty for what happened with Tucker on Saturday night, feeling guilty for us admitting that we have feelings we shouldn’t have for one another.

Tucker and I may not be doing anything physically—and we never will as long as I’m with Tanner—but what happened on an emotional level after Joey’s party was unfair to him.

But how can something that feels so amazing be so wrong?

I need to get out of my head, push it all aside and focus on getting through the next week and my parents’ party.

I stop cleaning off the table I’ve been wiping down and check the text that came just through.

Tucker: What color is your dress?

Me: Blue?

Tucker: Why is that a question?

Me: I haven’t seen it yet…

My phone rings instantly.

“They pick out what you wear?” he says in place of a greeting.

“Well hello to you too, Tucker.”

“Sorry. Hi, Maura. They pick out your clothes?”

I laugh at his feeble attempt at correcting himself.

“Sometimes,” I sigh.

“But why? Aren’t you an adult?”

“It’s easier that way. It’s much worse if I show up in a dress I picked out.”

“If I didn’t already know some of the shit they’ve put you through, I’d say your parents suck. But they’re worthy of many other descriptive words I’d feel wrong using on your sheltered ears.”

I can’t help but smile at Tucker’s protectiveness. The drive home from Joey’s party the other night was accompanied by me telling Tucker all about how shitty my parents are to me. And Tucker being Tucker wanted to drive there and tell them off, but I managed to talk him out of it.

“Thanks, Tuck.”

“So blue, huh? Do we have an idea of what shade?”

We.

“She says it’s going to match my eyes,” I tell him.

“Basically, I need to find the prettiest shade of blue there is and go with that?”

“You say the sweetest things,” I tease.

“Only for you, Maura,” he says in a low voice, and I know he’s not trying to be cheesy, that he means it.

“Yo, dickwad! Get off the phone!” I hear Hudson say in the background.

“He has such a pretty mouth when Joey’s not around,” I say.

Tucker laughs. “And he wonders why her piggy bank is so full.” Hudson says something again, but I can’t hear it clearly this time. “All right, I gotta go before I have to dick punch him. See you later?”

The hope I hear in his voice makes me smile briefly. But then I frown because I shouldn’t be smiling at that. And he shouldn’t sound like that.

What the fuck are you doing, Maura? He’s still your boyfriend’s brother. Your. Boyfriend. You have one of those. Stop being a flirt. Stop encouraging him.

“Listen, Tucker, I don’t—”

“Forget I said it, Maura,” he interrupts. I hear the regret and guilt in his voice. He hates this as much as I do, feels just as horrible as I do. “I…I gotta go. Later.

Silence meets my ear. I set my phone down and toss my head back in frustration.

I want us to be able to say things like that to one another, to spend time together one-on-one without it feeling so wrong, without feeling guilty over the fact that I want him so badly.

But I can’t yet. Not until I end things with Tanner, which won’t be until I see him again, because I owe him that much now that I’ve finally admitted to myself—and to Tucker—how I feel.

It would be wrong of me to do anything less.

I’ll avoid spending any time with Tucker outside what is necessary.

There! That’s easy enough. Done.

Once I finish scrubbing down the table I was working on, I head up to the bar.

“You good, girl? You’re stressed,” Benny comments.

“Meh. I need to catch a freakin’ break is all.”

“Boy troubles?”

“You could say that.”

Benny gives a dramatic shiver. “They can suck sometimes. I know all about ‘em, sweetheart. They only get worse with age.”

“Gee, thanks for the pep talk.”

He throws a wink my way and moves down the bar.

The rest of my shift flies by, and before I know it, I’m heading home to my favorite pair of sweats and possibly ice cream.

As I’m digging in my purse to find my keys, I’m not paying attention to what’s in front of me, so when he speaks, he scares the shit out of me.

“You know you should always walk through dark parking lots with your keys in your hand.”

I yelp loudly and jump back about three feet.

“Fuck, Tucker!” I yell, clutching my chest and dropping my keys on the ground. “You scared the shit out of me.”

He walks the four or five feet to me and bends down to pick my keys up.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, taking the keys from his outstretched hand, careful to avoid touching him.

“Was in the neighborhood,” he says, rocking back a little.

I give him a don’t-feed-me-bullshit look. “And the real reason?”

He exhales a long breath and then clears his throat. “I wanted to, uh, apologize. For earlier. I was out of line.”

I give him a small nod, letting him know to continue.

“This whole thing is weird, Maura. Whatever is happening between us is weird. I feel like shit. I’ve felt like shit since Saturday. I feel guilty as fuck, and we haven’t done anything. I feel terrible because I shouldn’t like you like I do. I shouldn’t want to stand here and beg you to break up with my brother because when you look at me I feel like someone finally understands everything about me. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

I still don’t say anything as he takes a step closer to me, bending down to speak softly into my ear. “Say something. Please.”

I give him a small nod because it’s all I can do to let him know I’m hearing him.

“I want to kiss you, but I can’t. I want to hold your hand, but I can’t. I want to sweep you off your feet, but I can’t. I can’t do any of it, but I want to. I really, really want to.” I nod again because that’s what I want. “But no matter how bad we want it, it can’t happen.”

I turn my head, and our eyes meet. His are darker than their normal bright gold, and his chest is moving in time with mine—which is still too fast.

“I feel it, Tucker. Whatever all this is, I feel it. But you’re right. We can’t. And that’s where we’re leaving it.”

We continue gazing at one another as we come to a silent mutual understanding, and our hearts resume their natural pace.

“So, friend, do you want to meet tomorrow and talk about maybe calling that suit?”

I feel a smile tug at my lips. “I’d love that. Lunch break?”

“One fifteen-ish good?”

“Perfect.”

Tucker winks at me. “I know I am.”

And just like that, all the awkwardness that was hovering over us moments ago vanishes, and we go back to being Maura and Tucker.

Friends.

* * *

“You wanna go get lunch? I don’t have to be in for another two hours, and we don’t have crap here to eat,” Kassi asks from the kitchen.

“Um…,” I start.

She suddenly appears from around the corner. “Uh oh. You’ve got a hot date, don’t you?” The grin on her face is mischievous. “Spill the beans, woman! Is it Tucker?”

I grab the throw pillow next to me and toss it at her. “Boyfriend, Kass, boyfriend,” I remind her.

She fake yawns and walks the pillow back over to the couch, taking a seat next to me. “Boring.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am meeting with Tucker. He needs support, and he asked me to give it to him.”

Kassi’s eyebrows lift suspiciously. “Why you?”

“Well, detective, because I was the one to give him a push in the first place. He’s trying to decide how to approach taking the next step in his music career.”

She’s quiet a moment and then says, “You ready for him to leave?”

I let my head fall back against the couch and squeeze my eyes shut. I’m not ready for that. Tucker seems to be the one person I can fully be myself around, and I don’t want to lose him, especially not now, when I feel like I just found him—when we’ve just decided to give this friendship a real shot.

But it doesn’t matter how not ready I am; it matters that he’s taking the initiative and trying to finally do what he’s always wanted to do. And I couldn’t be happier for him. I want him to have that in life. I want him to do everything he can to make his dreams come true. Above all else, I want to be the person who helps him make it all happen. I feel honored he asked.

“You’re not,” she says.

“It’s never fun to know that your extremely talented friend is probably going to leave you behind for bigger and better things,” I tell her, dropping my head toward my lap and picking at my nails—anything to avoid eye contact. “No, I’m not ready. But I want nothing but happiness for him, so I’ll stand beside him, cheer him on, and give him all the nudges he needs like any other good friend would do.”

She lays her hand on my arm in an effort to get me to stop picking. I finally glance over at her and see nothing but sympathy in her eyes. I love it and hate it at the same time. I love it because I know she cares, and that means the world to me. I hate it because I know she sees I like Tucker in a way that I haven’t told her about yet. I love that she says nothing about it. I hate that it feels so wrong to admit it.

“You’ll work through it. You’ve always been able to take sticky situations and make them not-so-sticky anymore. I think you’ll see that you can work your way through this one too. Even if it is extra sticky,” she says, her double meaning clear.

“Thanks, Kass.”

“No problem, kiddo. Now, what are you bringing me back for lunch?”

“Nothing,” I frown. “We’re meeting at Clyde’s, and I have a short shift afterwards.”

“Well, that blows,” she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest like a child. “What in the hell am I supposed to eat?”

I pat her leg like she would me and pull myself off the couch, heading toward my bedroom to start getting ready. “You’re an adult, Kass. I have faith that you’ll figure it out.”

I chuckle as I hear her mumble a few very unladylike words at me.

Without making myself seem like a total loon, I manage to wrangle together a semi-cute work-appropriate outfit—which isn’t much since our uniforms consist of orange shirts and black shorts—for my little date with Tucker.

Date?

I pause mid mascara swipe and stare at my reflection in the mirror a moment.

What in the hell are you doing, Maura? I’m putting extra effort into my appearance for someone who isn't my boyfriend, which is super shitty no matter if we’re barely hanging on by a thread or not. I shouldn’t be doing this. It shouldn’t be crossing my mind.

But it is, and I am.

Because of Tucker. Because of how he makes me feel. Because of who I am when I’m with him.

Me.

Fuck! I feel like I’m running in circles here, and everything is leading back to Tucker.

I inspect the girl I see in the reflection, the one I pretend to be for everyone else. This girl is beautiful on the outside, but I know how flawed she is on the inside. This girl is faithful, but I know how unfaithful she wants to be. This girl obeys her parents, but I know how badly she wants to defy them. This girl, the one staring back at me with large, round, clear-blue eyes, screams good girl, flawless, and confident, but I know she’s none of those things.

I wish I were whole, defiant, confident. But I’m not. Those traits, they belong to the real Maura. The one I’m afraid to be. The one I want to be.

In that moment, I decide that I’m breaking up with Tanner after dinner with my parents, because I don’t want to have to explain that on top of bringing a tattooed musician to the event. Either in person or on the phone. No more excuses. I can’t not be myself any longer. I cannot keep denying how I feel.

I can’t and I won’t. It’s time I take control of my life for a change.

* * *

“Hey.”

I automatically smile, and my heart rate increases at the sound of his voice.

“Hey,” I respond as Tucker takes a seat across from me, his grin matching mine.

“You order yet?”

I shake my head. “Was waiting on you.”

“Ah, cute and polite. I’m a lucky guy.” As he says it, his eyebrows furrow, and I can tell he immediately regrets his word choice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Ignoring him—and how it makes my stupid breath hitch—I ask, “You know what you want? I’ll run the order to the back for us. I know someone who works here. Bet we could get pushed to the front of the line.”

His brow smoothes, and he gives me a small grin. “Cheese fries, please. And a water.”

“Cheap date. I like it,” I tease, getting up to place our orders.

I stop dead in my tracks on my path back to the table, because sitting at my table, the one I’m sharing with Tucker, is Clarissa.

And she’s touching him. Too much.

My hands clench into fists of their own accord, my eyes fall into slits, and my breathing speeds up. My feet also apparently start moving on their own, because I’m suddenly standing at the edge of the table, glaring holes into Clarissa.

I try to see how stupid I’m being, but I can’t look past how close she’s sitting to him, or how she’s still touching him, or how she’s letting her boobs hang out more than usual, making sure they’re in front of his face. I try to tell myself that it’s so not my place to be upset. I try to breathe through my unjustified anger.

But, as usual, I don’t pay any attention to myself.

“Can I help you?” she says in that annoying, childlike voice she has, looking down her nose at me.

I stand up straight and hold my head up high, giving me false confidence for what I’m about to do. “Yeah, you can. You’re in my seat. I’d like you to move.”

Clarissa—a person who is used to Meek Maura and typically gets away with talking down to me—startles at my reply. She quickly recovers and sneers at me, “No. I was here first.”

Tucker’s chuckle is the only thing that catches my attention. He scoots himself far away from Clarissa and smirks at me.

“Actually,” he says to her while still staring at me, “my girl Maura was here first.”

Clarissa snorts unattractively. “Your girl? Thought you had a boyfriend. Already screwing around with his brother, I see. That didn’t take you long.”

“I-I…I…”

“Why’s it matter? Jealous?” Tucker remarks, turning the attention from me to him.

Clarissa rolls her eyes and tosses her hair over her shoulder as she gets up off my stool. As she walks by, in true mean girl fashion, I hear her say, “Slut.”

Pot, meet kettle.

I ignore her and take my seat, still holding on to my false bravery.

I feel rather than hear Tucker start laughing.

“What?” He starts laughing harder. I let out an exasperated breath. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Yes. No,” he answers between gulps of air. “I’m laughing at her calling you a slut.”

“Well, I get that that’s the no part. What’s the yes?”

“You were jealous,” he says.

I scoff and attempt to joke, “Nah. Didn’t want you catching anything you couldn’t wash off.”

“And I’m Chris Hemsworth.”

“I wish,” I murmur.

“And I heard that. You were jealous. It was written all over your face.”

Most girls would act coy and try to play the jealousy off as something else. But what Tucker said sits with me in an unpleasant way.

Was my jealousy truly that noticeable? Were my feelings that on display? When people see me and Tucker together, do they think we’re dating? Do the people I know think I’m cheating on Tanner? Is what I have with Tucker that tangible? Am I a slut?

“Hey,” he says, pulling me out of my daze. Reaching over, Tucker runs his fingertip over my eyebrow, attempting to smooth it out. “You’re scowling. Stop it. What did I say to cause it?”

“Is the way you make me feel that transparent? Am I a cheater? It’s not physical, but is this cheating? Do people think I’m bouncing from Tanner’s bed to yours?”

Tucker sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. “I can’t answer any of that, Maura. It’s all going to make me feel like shit,” he tells me sullenly, hiding behind his hands.

Well, that did nothing to rid me of my shitty feelings.

“I think this was a bad idea,” I say, pushing myself off my stool to run out like the coward I am.

“Wait.” I feel his hand wrap around my wrist, and I light up inside from the warmth. That’s all it takes. A simple touch, and he’s got my body thrumming with energy, want, need. One single, simple touch, and my knees weaken, my heart beats faster, and my mouth goes dry. Stupid, traitorous body.

I turn around and gradually lift my eyes from the exquisite art on his arm to his alluring golden gaze. I’m sure his careful eye doesn’t miss the hitch in my breath when our stares meet or the sudden shift in the air.

“Don’t go,” he pleads, not only with his words but with his eyes. “Friends, remember? I know that. You know that. Fuck everyone else.”

Truth. As long as we know what’s really going on, that’s all that counts.

Blowing out a breath, I give a curt nod, and he releases me as I take my seat again. “Friends,” I repeat for good measure.

Thankfully, Benny picks this moment to run our drinks over to us since it’s still early in the day and dead.

“Here ya kids go. Food will be up in a minute,” he says, setting down Tucker’s water and my Sprite.

We both take the distraction for what it is and sip on our drinks in silence for a moment.

“So,” we say at the same time and then both let out a relieved laugh, the air surrounding us fading to a dull sizzle.

I wave my hand for him to speak first.

“I did some research on the suit,” he tells me, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Daren Darren?”

“Hell of a name, huh?” He laughs faintly. “Yeah, him. He may be a good fit. Maybe. He’s represented a lot of good artists.”

“But has he represented artists that are similar to you?”

He throws a cocky grin my way. “Has anyone?”

I pretend to start choking, and Tucker gives me a concerned look. As he’s about to round the table to perform the Heimlich, I stop. He narrows his eyes at me.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Oh, that? It was your ego sucking up all the air in here.”

Tucker smirks and shakes his head at me, mumbling something I can’t quite make out. “Anyway,” he says, “I’m honestly thinking of contacting him, setting up a meeting. Maybe after my next show? What do you think?”

Cookin’ Curt, the resident chef, runs our cheese fries out to us, giving me a moment to think before I respond to him.

Do I think he needs to find representation? Sure. Am I worried someone’s going to exploit his talent? Hell yes. I’d be dumb not to be. But then again, that’s the risk people take as artists. I want nothing more than to watch Tucker up on stage every night, singing his heart out. Because that’s exactly where he belongs. Tucker was born to be on stage. It’s his outlet, his passion, his joy, his everything, and anyone who ever sees him perform can tell. Tucker needs to be on the stage. It’s who he is. He needs the music like he needs his next breath. I’ll do anything to help him get it, and like Tucker, I have a feeling about Daren Darren too. I checked him out myself, and I do hope he’ll be a good fit. Plus I have this belief in fate and happen to think I stepped in at the right time. If not with Darren, then in general.

“You’re fairly certain what you’re going to do. Why do you need me?”

“I want you there,” he tells me with certainty, shoveling a forkful of fries into his mouth.

“Good. I was going to force you to take me anyway.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “Well, I am your manager. I need to be there to, well, manage you.”

His lips twitch as he fights the smile begging to grace his face. A frown wins out. Tucker peers up at me with serious eyes.

“But what if I’m wrong? I mean, I know I’m good, but what if being good isn’t enough?”

Setting down the forkful of fries, I give Tucker my undivided attention. “Tucker, I want you to listen to what I’m about to tell you. Okay?” He nods slowly. “You’re the most talented man I have ever met.” He opens his mouth to argue with me. “No,” I say, holding up a hand, and he snaps his mouth shut. “No arguing. I wouldn’t lie to you; I have nothing to gain from doing so. You have raw, captivating, unmatchable talent. If you decide the take on the world of recording, you’re gonna smash it. I promise that. You have nothing to worry about. If anything, I’m the one who should be worrying.”

I pick my fork back up and continue to gorge on my fries, ignoring Tucker’s stare that’s burning into me. He’s a hard guy to ignore because I only last about ten seconds before I’m peeking up at him to find a smirk on his face.

“May I talk now?”

“I guess,” I tease.

“What do you have to be worried about?”

I sigh. “You leaving. I like you, Tucker. I think we established that already. You’ve also become someone I enjoy spending my time with. I don’t want you to leave, and I know you’ll have to. But I also understand that you have dreams—attainable dreams, I might add—that you need to pursue. Follow your heart, Tuck. Follow the music.”

He closes his eyes briefly at my words, and I’m not sure what it means until he opens them back up and inhales sharply. The look he’s giving me is telling me I’m about to hear something he shouldn’t be saying but is going to anyway.

“But what if my heart and the music point in different directions?”

Yep. He shouldn’t have said that.

My eyesight blurs from the sudden rush of blood pumping through my body, and my damn heart starts hammering loud enough that I have to peek around to make sure no one else can hear it.

“Fuck,” he curses. “I’m good at putting my foot in my mouth, huh?”

I say nothing, because what is there to say to that?

Tucker shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat. Switching gears again he says, “So, I’ll call him, then.”

“And I’ll go with you.”

“Deal.” He takes a sip of his water and sets it back down. “How are things with Tanner?”

I toss down my fork and sigh. “You sure do suck with words today.”

He winces. “Sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone there.”

“No, no, it’s fine. The sad part is that you should be able to go there. But it’s awkward as hell when you do.”

He grunts, and I’m not sure if it’s with approval or distaste. “Friends, Maura,” he says. “We’re friends. They talk about this shit with each other.”

I nod because he’s right. This is only a lunch between friends, and there’s no real reason I shouldn’t be able to talk with him about this if we are indeed just friends.

But you’re breaking up with his brother for him. Wait. No. I am not! It’s for me. For. Me.

“Anyway, things are…things? Still the same. We haven’t talked as much these past few days.”

Tucker hitches up his brow. “You’re oddly okay with that.”

I let out another sigh. “I am and that’s fucking terrible.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?” I shoot him a Really, jackass? look, considering he just asked me about how things are with his brother. He snickers. “Exactly what is wrong with your relationship with Tanner? I mean, is it the distance? Do you not connect? Is it the sex?”

“Tucker Cameron!” I hiss.

He throws his hands up in defense, and the edge of his lips twitch. “Sorry, sorry. But it’s something I’d ask my friend,” he mutters. “So?”

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I tell him, “We’re too alike in ways. He’s different from who I assumed he was, and things are different from how I believed they’d be.”

He scrunches his eyebrows. “Too alike?”

“You ever watch Shrek?” His turn to give me a Really, jackass? look. “So, we have layers like ogres. We present ourselves one way to the world while we’re different people. Only when it comes to Tanner, up until recently, I believed it was his real self he’d been showing me. But I question that now. And I question how I show myself to him.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“You. What you said about your parents and his master manipulation. It made me think that what if I’m the one he’s deceiving now? What if he’s been lying to me all this time about who he truly is?”

Tucker shoves the last of his cheese fries into his mouth and reaches over to polish mine off before he responds to me.

“What version of my brother do you get?”

Not expecting that question.

“The sweet one. The caring one. The attentive one.”

“I have to be honest; he can be all those things. Occasionally. And by occasionally, I mean hardly ever. Tanner is all about doing things that make him happy. He’s all about whatever is going to help him out in the end, what’s in it for him,” Tucker tells me. He swallows down the last of the fries and takes a big drink of water. “I’m not trying to rag on my brother, Maura, but I think you know that. It’s not my style. I’m only being honest with you.”

My shoulders slump in defeat because that’s what I was afraid of. At first, Tanner seemed exactly as I described him: arrogant, self-assured, but full of misrepresentation by everyone else around him. Now, he seems…fake. It pains me to admit it, too, because I didn’t want Tanner to be fake. I wanted Tanner to be real. But now I think I built him up to be that way in my head. I think I may have made him that way to make myself feel better. I knew deep down I had started seeing him because I knew he was someone my parents would love.

I guess I didn’t know then that would be because they’re so alike.

“Not what you wanted to hear, huh?” he says. I must admit that I’m shocked by the sympathy I hear in his voice.

“Not really. I wanted you to tell me to stick with it and that he’s a good guy deep down. But I think I knew the real answer all along. I shouldn’t have to guess what version of a person I’m getting anyway.”

I know Tanner isn’t a bad person, he’s just not my person.

Glancing up at Tucker, I jerk back at the look he’s giving me. There’s heat in it, maybe a small hint of desire. I involuntarily shiver from the intensity. It’s a look he shouldn’t be giving me, and one I shouldn’t be enjoying so much.

Suddenly thirsty, I take a sip of my soda as he says, “I show you the real me, Maura.”

I swallow loudly and lower my glass with shaky hands, holding his gaze.

“I know you do, Tucker. I know you do.”