Page 5 of Here's to Yesterday

“Can I turn around yet?” I ask Becca, who has me flipped around so I can’t see in themirror.

“Almost…,” she starts. She walks around and stands in front of me. I watch as she reaches out and moves a few pieces of hair. Smiling, she proclaims, “Done!”

Closing my eyes as Becca takes off the zebra-print cape, my nerves reaching an all-time high. I only came in for a cut, not a color. She spins me around, but I’m still too nervous tolook.

“Come on, come on. Look already, Maura. Tell me how wonderful Iam!”

I peel one eye open and peek at the mirror.Huh. Not bad so far.I open the other just as slowly, and my mouth dropsopen.

When Becca said pink, I assumed a light, sweet pink and not the edgy, dark magenta she went with. And I loveit.

“Holy wow,” Iwhisper.

“Right? It’shot!”

She’s correct again. Itishot. The carefully dipped ends mixed with my now freshly trimmed swing bob looks fan-freakin’-tastic! “You. Are. Amazing! A genius! It’sawesome!”

She lifts a shoulder and smiles coyly. “You’rewelcome.”

I make sure to give Becca an extra-big hug (and tip) as Ileave.

My rule in life has always been: if you get a new hair-do, you get a new outfit to give yourself that extra boost of sass. So I decide to head toward Jane’s to get my shoppingon.

“Maura?”

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, I turn toward the familiarvoice.

“Tucker,” I saycarefully.

It’s been a week since Tucker caught me puffy-eyed at Clyde’s during my Wednesday shift. I had just gotten off the phone with Tanner and was crying after we had a small disagreement. It was nothing big—a mix up of dates for when Tanner was coming home next. He was supposed to attend a dinner event my overbearing parents are throwing next month but got slapped with duty for the weekend. I normally wouldn’t care or complain, but I think that with everything weird happening with our relationship, we need to be together. I need to see my favorite side of Tanner to validate why we keep itgoing.

Plus, he was the only reasonIwas attending, because spending more than two hours with my parents does something to me. Tanner was supposed to be my support throughit.

Fifty questions later, Tucker wrangled the story out of me. I explained to him how important the dinner was to my family and how they had already paid for a plate for Tanner. So Tucker, the gentleman he is, volunteered to step in. I turned him down. And apparently hurt his ego, because he’s come in to Clyde’s each night since, trying to get me to talk to him. It hasn’tworked.

“How are you?” I ask, silently praying a giant black hole would appear and swallow me up so I wouldn’t have to facehim.

He cocks his head sideways, narrowing his eyes at me, as he closes the distance between us. “Fine,” he drawls. The way he’s watching me makes my skin itch, and I’m not sure why. “You changed yourhair.”

I shrug and push my hands into my back pockets, leaning back to peek up at him. “Yep.”

“It looks good. Fitsyou.”

My eyebrows shoot up at this. “Fits me?How?”

He screws his lips up, thinking about how to answer this. “It just does. You seem more…you, more relaxed. Carefree,even.”

I have to admit, I had no idea what I expected when Tucker said it “fits” me, but that was most definitely notit.

Narrowing my eyes, I carefully inspect the younger brother of my boyfriend. He’s tall with dirty blonde hair, and he’s built. He’s not as bulky as Tanner, who has free rein of a military gym, but he’s definitely carrying around extra muscle. Unlike Tanner, Tucker is always—and I meanalways—laid back and relaxed. I don’t think the guy owns anything other than t-shirts, flannels, and jeans. He’s got this easy vibe to him that his brother is, well,lacking.

Other than the casual vibe he always gives off, the two things that make him so much different from Tanner are his tattoos and hiseyes.

AKA, two reasons I’ve always avoided him because…damn.

Tucker has two full sleeves of all black tattoos. And they are brilliantly crafted. Incredible. Alluring. They suck you in. His right arm is one massive tree. It doesn’t need color for one to tell that it’s alive. The flowers are shaded so that his whole arm appears to have a life of its own. But his left arm? That one is my favorite. The tree is dead, and it’s absolutely breathtaking. Each arm has a story that a part of me wants to eventually coax out ofhim.

And the other thing…those eyes? Hand to all holy things, they’re gold, bordering on amber, reminding me of honey. Tanner’s are a deep, dark, flatbrown.

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