Never Say Never (Haven Harbor #3)

Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

I’LL FUCK IT OUT OF YOU

D aisy

It’s been a little over a month since I’ve been in Italy, and the constant, nagging feeling of missing Tucker still consumes me. I miss the scent of him. I miss the way he drags his fingertips over my arms in the morning to wake me up. I miss the way he plays with my hair. I miss seeing him walk through the door at the end of the day wearing his RPU gear. I just miss him .

We’ve spoken every day, long telephone conversations and explicit text messages. Tucker listens to my travel stories with genuine interest and I love him even more for supporting me. But what I look forward to most is listening to him talk about Haven Harbor and the team. I love hearing him talk about his day, his thoughts, his new ideas for the Outlaws.

Tucker doesn’t talk much about his dad, and I don’t push it. I know that they haven’t been in touch since that night at my parents’ place, and that Tucker has skipped every Sunday dinner since I left town.

When Tucker and I can find a time that works with our schedules and the time difference, we Facetime. Our chats have become progressively steamier. Watching Tucker take off his clothes and touch himself for me is a level of hot I never knew existed, and it didn’t take long before I found myself craving it. The whole thing made me nervous at first—it was so vulnerable, letting Tucker watch me touch myself over a camera. But it didn’t take long for my inhibitions to fade away. Now, I love the way it makes me feel. Knowing I can make him hard even though we’re an ocean apart makes me feel powerful. And watching him come in a video is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I’ve thought about our future more times than I can count. What will it be like when I come home? Will he want us to move in together? And down the road, are marriage and babies even something that he wants? Where does he see us in five years?

When I lie in bed at the end of the day, these are the questions that cycle through my head. I know with certainty that I want it all with Tucker, and that excites me. But I also know that being in a relationship is a big step for him. Anything beyond that—marriage, kids, a white picket fence—might scare him.

I’m about five minutes from my quaint bed and breakfast in Sorrento when my phone rings. It’s Tucker, calling a lot earlier than usual. It’s almost 2 a.m. in Reed Point.

“Hi,” I say, answering his call as soon as humanly possible.

“Hey, baby,” he says, his voice raspy. “What are you up to?”

“I just picked up a coffee and a pastry from a cute café. What about you? Why are you up?”

A low groan comes through the phone. “I couldn’t sleep. Had beers on the porch with Holden, talking him through some shit. I went to bed late.”

“Is everything okay?”

“With Holden? Yeah, he’ll be fine. Just worried if he made the right decision breaking up with Aubrey.”

“And what did you tell him?”

I hear him rustling against his pillow. “I told him if it was meant to be, it would have been. Cliché, I guess, but I think it’s true. She obviously wasn’t the right girl for him if he was able to walk away. Then we drank beers. A lot of beers. And then he felt better.”

“Of course you did,” I laugh. “I don’t have to imagine what that looked like. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes more times than I can count.”

It’s quiet on the line for a full 10 seconds, and I wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Tucker?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” He pauses. “You know that I’m not like that anymore, yeah?”

“I know, but… it’s okay if you are. I’m not asking you not to go out and have fun.”

“I know. I just wanted you to know.”

There’s another pause

“Have you talked to your dad?”

“Nope, not at all.” I try to decipher his tone, to figure out how he feels about it, but I come up blank. My good mood evaporates wishing I was there with him.

Unfortunately, that has been a theme of this trip. One minute I’m enjoying the rich history of Italy, the next I’m missing Tucker so badly it hurts. But I’m doing my best to try to change that. I’ve looked forward to this trip for so long, and now I’m here. I don’t want to let what’s going on at home change that. I feel so grateful to be on this trip, but I also know what Tucker is dealing with back home. He says he doesn’t care about what his dad thinks, but I know it has to hurt. If Uncle Mark can’t support us, I hope he can at least be civil. For everyone’s sake. As expected, Tucker and I being together has caused tension between our families. My mom told me she hasn’t spoken to my Uncle Mark much, and besides a short visit a couple of days before I left, I haven’t talked to Aunt Daisy. Things feel awkward and tense. Would it always be like this? I really hope not. But for now, this is what we have to deal with—except I’m hundreds of miles away, which leaves Tucker to deal with it on his own. He’s told me over and over that he’s fine, that he can handle it, but I can’t help but feel bad.

“It’s okay, Dais. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“I know, but I still hate it.”

“Let’s talk about something else. Like that picture you sent me yesterday of you in your bikini.”

“My bikini bottoms , you mean.”

“So fucking hot.”

“I’ll send you another when I get back to my hotel.”

Tucker’s groan is so loud I’m sure it woke up Holden. “Tell me what you’re doing today,” he says.

“You should go to sleep.”

“I want to keep listening to your voice. It’s my favorite part of my day.”

“Mine too.”

I smile. I love seeing this side of Tucker—where he is vulnerable and tells me exactly what he is thinking so I don’t have to guess. My Tuck, who is sweet and thoughtful and opens his heart for me. It’s such a turn on.

“Will you send me a picture before you fall asleep?”

He mumbles something into the phone. He’s either asleep or seconds away from it. “Good night, Tuck.”

“No… I heard you,” he yawns. “I’ll send you a pic…”

His voice trails off and I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. He is obviously very tired and maybe a little drunk, and the effect is ridiculously cute. “I’m going to hang up now, Tuck,” I say quietly. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he murmurs, then adds, “Daisy? Go enjoy your day, okay?”

The line goes silent before I end the call. Smiling, I stuff my phone in my pocket. Then I do exactly what he said and go enjoy my day.

The Trevi Fountain is mayhem, and there’s a huge crowd of people blocking my view. Thankfully, I am tiny and determined, so I politely push my way through the rows of people until I get to the edge of the travertine, finding a spot to sit down. I arrived back in Rome last night on a train from Sorrento, and the first thing on my list of sights to see was the most famous fountain in the world. I made sure to remember to bring three pennies to make a wish.

Legend has it that if you throw three coins in the fountain, the first guarantees a visit back to Rome, the second a love affair, and the third means a wedding.

Turning so that my back is facing the fountain, I toss the first coin over my left shoulder, followed by the second coin. I dig out my phone and record a short video of myself throwing the third coin and upload it to my stories on Instagram. I caption the photo throwing coins and making wishes and then post it.

In awe, I take one last look at the fountain before making my way back through the crowd. There’s a store I walked past on my way here that I want to peek in, so I head back in the direction I came. As I’m window shopping, my phone chimes in my pocket. It’s an Instagram notification from Tucker. It’s going on 8 a.m. in Reed Point, so he’s probably drinking his coffee and scrolling his phone. I open the app and go into my DMs, reading the two new messages from Tucker.

Tucker: You look damn beautiful.

Tucker: Tell me what you wished for.

I smile, taking a moment to enjoy a welcome breeze. Rome is undeniably beautiful, and undeniably hot . I read Tucker’s messages again, feeling an ache in my chest at how much I miss him. Leaning against the stone wall of the shop, I type out a response.

Me: Thank you ;) And my lips are sealed. I actually want my wishes to come true.

A bead of sweat drips from under my hat and down the side of my face. If it’s this hot in mid-March, what is it like here in the summer? I’d love to come back with Tucker one day and I imagine the two of us here in Rome, holding hands, walking the cobblestone streets together, sharing a gelato. I shake my head, knowing that I’m getting ahead of myself. The heat must me getting to me. I step into the shop to get out of the sun, looking at the pastel hued Italian coffee presses lining she shelves. I run my fingertips along an aquamarine one, the color reminding me of Tucker’s eyes. My phone buzzes again with another message from Tuck.

Tucker: Don’t worry. I’ll fuck it out of you when I see you.

Me: Jesus, Tucker.

Tucker: You miss my dick, don’t you? Admit it, rebel.

Me: I miss your dick

Me: But I miss you more

I squeeze my eyes shut, holding my phone to my chest. I wish he was here with me.

Tucker: You know I’d be there if I could.

Me: I know. I watched a video of you and the guys at camp online this morning. It felt good to see you where you’re happiest.

Tucker: You keeping track of me, Dais?

Me: Maybe… You still get that same look on your face when you’re focused, just like you did when you were eight.

Tucker: I do?

Me: You narrow your eyes and chew on your bottom lip. It’s cute.

Tucker: As long as it’s cute. Oh, and you’re wrong btw.

Me: Wrong about what?

Tucker: You are what makes me the happiest.

Me: Cheeseball… but you made me smile.

Tucker: Your cheeseball. I love you. Now I’m gonna go take nudes and send them to you later.

I’m smiling like a lunatic in a coffee press store. People are going to think I’m crazy.