Page 25 of Here's to Yesterday

And this, my friends, is a not-so-calm-and-collected TuckerBentley.

“I take it you’re mad,” Isay.

He shakes his head once and continues to pace. Back and forth, back andforth.

Then he suddenly stops and spins to face me, practically stalking toward me. I back up as he walks closer and closer, because I’veneverseen him like thisbefore.

He reaches out to stop me, grabbing both my shoulders and bending so that we’re face-to-face.

I have no idea what is happening, but I’m not afraid to admit that I’m a little frightened. I’m frightened because he’s not mad or upset. He appears…confused.

“Thank you,” he says firmly, holding my stare. Suddenly he jerks me toward him, wrapping those beautifully tatted up arms around me, hugging mefiercely.

I lightly pat his back, and he squeezes meharder.

“I’m not letting you go until you give me a real damn hug,” he says next to myear.

So I comply and put my arms aroundhim.

And I’ll be damned if I don’t melt into his warmth. This embrace—the one I’m sharing so intimately with someone whoisn’tmy boyfriend—feels ten times better than any other hug I’ve ever received. Because it doesn’t feel like just a hug. It feels like an understanding of sorts. Like Tucker and I took off our masks and showed each other who we trulyare.

Letting out a deep breath, I allow myself to mold into him, and he does the same. I have no idea who is holding up whom at this point, because it feels like we’re both letting one another do all thework.

I needed this hug. Being held like this feels good. Being appreciated—though I’m not sure what for—feels good. Like an amateur archer finally hitting their mark or a seasoned photographer capturing that elusive, perfect shot for the first time.Thatkind ofgood.

Appreciated.It’s such a foreign word to me because I hardly ever feel it. My parents certainly never make me feel it. Sure, I feel appreciated by Rae and Perry, but they’re my best friends; theyhaveto appreciate me. It’s part of the Bestie Code orwhatever.

Tucker finally lets up and steps away from me, pulling his mask back on and clearing his throat. He’s looking down at his feet now. No doubt he’s embarrassed by holding on to me for solong.

“Why am I being thanked?” I dare toask.

He peeks up, and I can see it. It’s for a brief moment, but he is going let mein.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he finallysays.

“Dowhat?”

“Take a businesscard.”

Now I’m confused because I don’t get why that’s such a huge deal. So I ask him, “But why is that sohard?”

“Because then I’ll want to call them. Then I’ll want to have hope. And hope doesn’t get along with me. Not anymore, atleast.”

That was not was I was expecting.Hope doesn’t get along with me.What’s that supposed to mean? He stands there staring at me. Ihuff.

“You’re not gonna elaborate,huh?”

“Nope,” he answers as he turns around and opens up my door forme.

“Right,” I say, sliding past him and climbing into hiscar.

He walks casually around the front and gets in beside me. He doesn’t immediately start the car. I can feel him staring at me, but I refuse to glance over athim.

“Maura,” he says quietly. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s that I don’t want to tell youyet. Besides, it’s not just my story totell.”

I don’t respond as he puts the key in the ignition and cranks the car. Once it’s on, I flip the stereo to my favorite station and turn the volume up to drown him out, even though he’s not speakingeither.

It’s not just his story? Well, then who in the hell else does it belongto?

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