Page 45 of Words I Couldn't Say
Yes, it was the last thing I wanted, but I’d take him any way I could get him. It was obvious he wanted this. Just as obvious as it was that he was terrified of giving his heart to me again. I could understand that. I could respect it. As much as it pained me to suggest it, the last thing I wanted was him to ask for space. I’d agree to give his heart space. Just not him entirely.
I freed a hand and slid it between his legs, where it was evident the idea appealed to him. “Yes. No feelings, no romance. Just you, me, and that big ol’ bed.”
“For how long?” he asked, pushing me back until my thighs hit the bed.
“For as long as you want me,” I offered, hoping he’d say forever.
His voice was husky as his hand came up to cup my cheek. A thumb lazily stroked my skin, and I turned into his touch, enjoying the way he caressed me.
“I’ll always want you,” he admitted.
“Then I guess we better get started. Friend.”
At the word, he growled, scooping me up in his arms. Then he tossed me onto the bed and showed me exactly how friendly he could be.
It was evident friends would never be enough for either of us, but it was a start.
By the time Tucker had kissed me goodbye and headed off for work, he’d already made good on his promise. I absolutely had released a monster. After our little showdown this morning, he’d shown me just how good of a friend with benefits he would be. Three times.
Was I happy about being friends with benefits with the man who held my heart? No, absolutely not. But Tucker needed this. Our relationship needed this. He couldn’t dive in head first without testing the waters I’d muddied five years earlier. In the end, I thought we’d be better for it. Or, at least, I hoped.
Thankfully, Tucker had to be at some construction site at a ridiculously early hour and I was able to sneak into my house and get into bed before any member of the Banks clan had woken up for the day. I was blessed to have the day off, which was good because I did not want to explain to the makeup artist why she had to cover up the love bite I found on my neck after I’d showered.
As exhausted as my body was, sleep evaded me. I relived every moment of the evening before, marveling at the revelations I’d learned since coming home.
Tucker was T.A. Bankman, having admitted to writing the book for me.
Tucker was a virgin—or, well, he had been—because he’d been waiting for me, just as I’d been waiting for him.
Tucker still had strong feelings for me. Okay, so he hadn’t said it out loud, but the fact that he was afraid of putting his heart on the line was evidence enough.
I’d also made some of my own realizations.
Time and distance hadn’t changed the way I felt about him. It shouldn’t have surprised me because I’d loved him my whole life, but it did. It was as if I’d never left, and it was because my heart hadn’t. Even when I had been in California, half of it had stayed behind in Cincinnati, and it was becoming whole now that I was back with him.
With a smile on my face and warm memories in my heart, I drifted off to sleep, Tucker’s sweet smile on my mind.
“Wake up, sleepyhead!” Pacey’s laughter yanked me from my slumber as he jumped onto my bed.
I threw my covers back, and he crawled in. While snuggling with my littlest brother, a weight fell from my shoulders. I couldn’t believe I’d ever tried escaping this life.
Pacey’s small, blue eyes—a perfect mirror of my own—stared up at me with childlike wonder. “How long will you be here?” he asked what was apparently the million-dollar question.
“I don’t know, Pace. Maybe I’ll move back in and never leave. Would that be okay with you?”
He nodded profusely, looking like a cute little bobble head I’d just nudged with my finger. “Flynn tells me stories of what it was like when you were around.” He sighed at the thought that he’d missed out on some grand adventures.
In the moments to come, I would realize that’s exactly what Flynn had made it sound like. Pacey asked an endless amount of questions about what life was like when I was a kid.
“Daddy lets me watch you on TV sometimes. And I tell all the kids at school that you’re friends with Santa!”
I grinned at the pride in his voice. Last year, I’d had a small role in a Hallmark Christmas movie in which I’d played an elf. I’d only had a few scenes, but they’d all centered around Santa, and to Pacey, that was—in his words—“the coolest thing ever.”
“Maybe this year I’ll let you meet him,” I offered, wondering if Dad still had his Santa suit lying around.
“Yes!” He pressed his nose against mine, his eyes suddenly round. His lips puckered, and he gave me a sloppy kiss. He reared his head back then used the back of his arm to wipe the kiss away. “Ew.”
I tickled his belly. “Hey! Why did you give me a kiss and then take it back? Didn’t Flynn teach you anything? No take-backs!”
