Never Say Never (Haven Harbor #3)

Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

THE POST-SEX HUG

D aisy

I need to get out of the house and out of my head. Every time I think back to last night, my stomach erupts in what feels like a million little butterflies. I had sex with Tucker. Repeat… I had sex with Tucker! And it is all I’ve been able to think about. I feel like I’m going insane.

It’s been less than 24 hours since Tucker’s hands were on me, and I’m already wondering when we can do it again. Being with him was better than any fantasy I’ve ever imagined; the gentle way his hands touched me, the possessiveness in the way he fucked me, and the two orgasms he gave me? They were the best orgasms of my life.

And the way his eyes locked with mine after he finished inside of me, as if I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—I will never forget it. Waves of heat prickle my skin. Now that I’ve felt him inside of me, I know once won’t be enough. One night with Tucker Collins, and I’m addicted.

When it was over and he had rolled onto his side, I got up and got dressed and told him I would call an Uber to get back home. It would have been so easy to stay, but the rules are in place for a reason. No cuddling. No sleeping over.

Tucker insisted on driving me back to my apartment and he seemed disappointed when I jumped out of his truck as soon as he pulled up in front of my building. I’m sure he was hoping for a round two, but I felt like I needed some space to come to terms with what had just happened between us. I also knew I wouldn’t survive the post-sex hug goodbye. The only way this is going to work is if we keep that line drawn in the sand. There’s no other way.

I grab my water bottle and shove my phone into my belt bag. I’m hoping that a walk will help me clear my head. I pull my hair back into a quick ponytail and lace up my runners, then I’m heading for the door. Briar is on the couch in the living room, feet up with a bowl of pasta on her lap.

“You sure you’re not hungry?” she asks. “I put the leftovers in the fridge if you want them.”

“Thanks, I’ll probably eat later,” I say, the constant, nervous flutter in my belly leaving me with zero appetite. I haven’t told her about last night yet. When she asked me about it, I told her I just needed some time.

“Okay. Well, enjoy your walk. It looks like you could use it. We’ll talk when you get back?”

“Promise.” I nod.

“Taking anyone with you?”

“If that’s your sneaky way of asking if Tucker is coming, you’ll be happy to know that he’s not.”

She shrugs. “I’m actually kind of invested in this whole frienemies-to-lovers story you guys have going.”

I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “You read too many of those smut books, Briar.”

“Got that right. All the cool girls do,” she says with a snort as I open our front door. “I’ll be right here on this couch when you get back and I want to hear every dirty detail.”

“I can’t wait,” I say with an eyeroll before shutting the door behind me and heading in the direction of the beach. My walk takes me past the cafés and shops of First Street, past Bloom, my favorite flower shop, and Buttercup Bakery a little further down—their signature lemon cupcakes are to die for. Briar and I stop in there at least a couple of times a month.

Soon, I’ve reached the boardwalk of White Harbor Beach, the largest and busiest beach in town. White Harbor is where you’ll find the crowds of tourists who flock to Reed Point each summer. Locals know to stay away, choosing quieter spots like Haven Harbor, where Tucker and Holden have their place. I will be staying far away from there though tonight not wanting to risk running into Tucker.

I breathe in the salt from the ocean, my runners echoing off the warm concrete in the late afternoon sun. I look down the sand to the bluff a mile or so down the beach and it reminds me of him. As kids, Tucker and I would hike the bluff trails to the lighthouse at the top. We would race up the steps to see who could get up to the viewpoint the fastest, then we’d sit up there and watch the sun go down. I would rest my head on Tuck’s shoulder, staring out at the purples, reds and pinks that danced along the horizon.

I haven’t been back there for 10 years, but my feet take me there tonight. Before I know it, I’m at the mouth of the trail, my mind flooded with memories. I’m an only child, but I’ve never felt like one. Growing up, Tucker was the sibling I never had. The big brother who would have done anything for me. And he did. He watched over me, protected me. I guess that’s why the loss of our friendship was so painful. It had always felt like there was an invisible tether that joined us together, but then one day it just snapped. As the years went by, I had to accept the fact that Tucker would never be part of my life again, not really. We’d see each other at family dinners, we’d be pleasant enough for our parents’ sake, but we’d never be close again. But now here he is, and I feel whole again. I feel happy. And I want more.

I pick up my pace on the trail, willing myself to stop these constant thoughts of Tucker. I look around at the tall grass, the pink and purple ombre sky, the glimmering ocean below. This view will never get old. Eventually I reach the lighthouse and start climbing the stairs. When I reach the top, my heart is pounding and my head is clear.

I sit down on the stone gallery deck, my back propped up against the wall and pull my knees into my chest. The night is unseasonably warm for the middle of fall, high sunlit clouds blanketing the coastline like an overprotective mother, waves crashing into the jagged coastline.

I’m lost in my thoughts, staring at the sailboats dotting the turquoise sea below, when a noise startles me. My gaze slices to the stairs just in time to see Tucker reach the top of the lighthouse.

“Daisy… What are you doing here?”

My eyes stay glued to Tucker as he closes the distance between us. I swallow the nervous urge to laugh. I came all the way up here to try to get Tucker out of my head, and now here he is, standing right in front of me. The universe seems to be conspiring to put this man in my path at every opportunity.

“I felt like going for a walk after work, and I guess I lost track of time.” I try to appear unaffected by his presence, but even I can hear that I sound nervous and a little out of breath. Seeing him makes me want to be back in his arms, back with his warm body against mine. “What are you doing here?”

“Needed to clear my mind, and this place, um…I haven’t been here in a long time. It’s always felt special. The last time I was here I was with you.”

His response throws me for a loop, and my lips tip up at the corners in a half-smile. “Wanna sit?”

“Love to.”

Tucker sits down next to me, folding his long legs in front of him. Energy crackles between us, my body hyper-aware of his. The urge to nuzzle into his side like old times vibrates through me. Instead, I wrap my arms tighter around my knees, forcing myself to resist.

“How was your day?” he asks, flicking a glance my way. “Anything exciting?”

“Nope, not unless you consider a peanut M Delila’s is busy as always, just about every table in the 50s-inspired space is occupied.

I look at Tuck, who is sitting across from me with his ink-covered arms resting on the shiny red table. He’s wearing an athletic shirt with the Outlaws logo on the chest and a backwards baseball cap. Immediately, I feel fireworks deep in my belly just from glancing at him. He’s beautiful. I force myself to tear my eyes off him and focus on the menu.

“What are you going to get?” I ask, my voice shaky, trying to act like being here alone with him isn’t a big fucking deal. Tucker and I have dinner with our parents every week, but I’ve never actually been out to a restaurant with him, just the two of us. I know it’s not a date, he made that clear—but right now, it feels a lot like one.

“Probably whatever you’re having,” Tucker says with a grin.

“You haven’t changed a bit in 10 years, have you?”

“Nope,” he says with a shrug. “Why would I change now?”

I wouldn’t want you to, I think to myself. It feels good being here with him like this. It feels familiar. When we were kids, Tucker and I would celebrate our birthdays together and he would always just go along with whatever birthday cake or dinner I chose. His response was always, Whatever Daisy wants .

I’m thankful when our waitress, a cute blonde, appears at our table to take our drink order, jolting me from my memories. “Oh, hey, Coach Collins. Big game coming up. I can’t wait, the team is looking so good.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“The Outlaws are having quite the year thanks to you,” she smiles, her green eyes drinking him in. “So, what can I get you?”

She turns to me when Tucker nods in my direction. “I’ll have a cheeseburger, extra pickles, no tomato with fries and a glass of water.”

“Make that two. And we’ll share a chocolate milkshake.” The smile that spreads across his face makes his eyes crinkle, and the effect it has is palpable.

Tucker is painfully good looking. He’s built like an athlete with his lean frame, flat stomach and broad shoulders. Add to that his steel blue eyes, his collection of tattoos and the fact that he’s famous in our small town for coaching the Outlaws, and he’s arguably the hottest guy in Reed Point. Our waitress certainly seems to think so.

“I’ll get everything out to you right away. Your dinner won’t be long.” She takes our menus, brushing her shoulder against his. She’s beautiful, and I’m annoyed by the wave of jealousy that roils in my belly. Tucker seems completely unaware, keeping his eyes on mine.

“Don’t let our pact stop you from getting her number.” It’s a catty thing to say, but I can’t help it. Women practically throwing themselves at Tucker brings out the spiteful side of me.

He flashes me a smart-ass smirk that heats my cheeks. The way he’s looking at me is enough to flare to life the pulse that has been lingering in my core since last night. An image of Tucker, naked, flashes through my mind. I have never been with a man like him before. It was like we were the only two people left on this earth. Feral. Consuming.

“Someone’s jealous,” he says, reclining in his seat. Tucker knows me better than anyone. I shift on the leather seat feeling as if he can read my mind. As if he knows every one of my secrets.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

I huff out a breath, crossing my arms over my chest. I take note of the way Tucker’s eyes drop to my chest. It’s impossible not to think about the fact that he now knows what I look like underneath my clothes. He knows my body intimately. I move my hand to my throat, feeling suddenly like there is not enough air in this booth, in this entire diner. Tucker’s eyes follow the movement, landing on the hollow at the base of my neck. It’s like he notices every little thing about me. Every movement, every breath, no matter how small it is. He cocks his head, his eyes returning to mine with that sexy-as-hell smirk still on his face. “Tell me how you feel about last night.”

Heat slams into my cheeks. The question throws me off guard. I’m tempted to change the subject or beeline it to the restrooms, but it’s a conversation I know we should probably have. “I still can’t believe we did that.”

“Me neither. It was better than I ever imagined.”

My eyes go wide at his words, at how forthright he is. I feel my stomach drop to the black and white checkerboard floor.

“So, you’ve thought about having sex with me?”

He cocks his head while I force myself to hold eye contact as I wait for his answer. He leans in closer, his voice low so that only I can hear him. “Of course I have, Dais. I’ve fantasized about it since we were 15 years old.”

My jaw falls open, my brain running in circles at the weight of his words. Tucker Collins just admitted to wanting me. I’ve wondered for years if the attraction was mutual, and now I know it was.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

His expression softens. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, feeling a little embarrassed. “Besides that kiss…” I pause, noticing the way his Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat. “You never really looked at me like you wanted me.”

“Two burgers, fries and extra pickles,” our waitress announces as she appears out of nowhere with our orders. “And I’ll be right back with that milkshake.”

Tucker flashes her a smile that could melt icecaps, and she bats her eyelashes in response. “Thanks very much.”

When she leaves, I glance at Tucker, who’s already busy dipping a French fry in ketchup. The moment between us is forgotten, so I move on as well.

“You really like ketchup.”

“I do.”

“What else do you like?”

“Pickles,” he says, scooping one from his plate.

“I hope not together.”

“My god, never.”

I grin, reaching for a fry.

“How about you, Dais? What do you like?”

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and dip my fry into the ketchup on his plate. “Chocolate, obviously. Chocolate covered almonds, to be specific.”

“No, I mean, what makes you happy?”

“Oh.” I pause, thinking for a moment. “I like sunsets, Gilmore Girls , 90s movies, fuzzy socks. The lemon cupcakes from Buttercup Bakery—literally perfect. And anything with a daisy on it, of course.” I hold up my wrist, showing him the beaded bracelet Briar gave me for my last birthday, a string of tiny white and yellow daisies.

“It doesn’t take much, huh?” Tucker’s eyes meet mine as he leans in for a sip of our milkshake that our waitress just slid into the middle of the table and my heart pounds just a little harder. “What else?”

He takes a bite of his burger, quiet, as he waits for me to answer.

“I like rainy days in bed watching movies. And I love it when someone plays with my hair.”

“That’s weird.”

“That’s not weird. It feels good. It’s totally relaxing when it’s done right, you feel all tingly and boneless.”

He looks skeptical. “’Boneless?’ You’re not convincing me.”

“Your loss,” I say with a shrug.

He laughs as he picks up his burger. We eat in silence for a few minutes, and I can’t help but think back to Tucker’s admission: I’ve fantasized about it since we were 15 years old.

I tell myself to not read too much into it, but it’s hard not to let my mind wander to how different everything could have been for us. What if Tucker hadn’t pushed me away? What if we had let that kiss be the start of something? It could have been something great.

But so much time has passed, and now we’ll never know. I look out the diner window, trying not to think about what might have been.