chuckle that escapes. That’s a good saying. I could picture Grams saying that. Then, I look at her. Big mistake. A full-mega-watt, light up the whole world, smile is on her face. I thought she had shown me her best smile before, but I was wrong. This is it. Trying to catch my breath and restart my heart at the same time is nearly impossible. Her smile will haunt me the rest of my life. Getting back in my truck never felt like such a death sentence.
Clearing my throat, “Sounds like something my Grams would say,” I rasp out around a weak smile. It’s a weak, but genuine smile. It isn’t a smile I would give to the fans or for the cameras. This is a real one just for her. It’s a little sad, too, because in this moment, in this stranger’s dining room in nowhere New Hampshire, I feel comfortable. Too comfortable. And for once… I’m ok with it.
I hate being Tucker Stavros.
*********************
I can tell he needs a minute to recover from hearing that my husband is dead and from my behavior. I’m sure I looked like a complete fucking mess. I hate when Alex’s name comes up. It always throws me into a tailspin. I wish I was stronger. I wish I dealt with it better, but how do you stop loving someone who was part of your life for almost all of it? I’ve loved him since I was six years old. How do I stop now? Just because he’s not here doesn’t make him simply fade away. No one seems to understand that. I’m glad Tucker isn’t saying anything. I need a few moments to breathe.
I do feel like an idiot, though. Losing it in front of Tucker Stavros. Oh my God. I lost it in front of Tucker Stavros. Walking sex on a stick, just about every woman in the world would like to sleep with, he’s their fantasy, he’s so hot, Tucker Stavros. Shit! Ok, Adriana. Breathe. Count to ten. Stop making an ass of yourself.
Breaking me from my embarrassing thoughts, he tells me that breakfast is delicious. Never one to take compliments well, I know I’m blushing. I can’t help but wonder why he’s been eating so much fast food when he makes the comment, but mom and dad taught us to never pry. If people want you to know their business, they’ll tell you. It didn’t seem like he was throwing the comment out there for open conversation, so I don’t ask. It’s killing me, though. I’m very curious. He seems different than what I expected. I expected a cocky, smug, arrogant asshole. All the words kind of mean the same thing, don’t they? Well, that is what I expected. I just thought he’d walk in here and demand things like I get him a drink or treat me as less than him– stupid shit like that. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe try to talk me out of my panties? Wishful thinking. Could still happen. No… nooo. Where the hell did that come from? Alex, no one is talking me out of my panties. Especially not some hottie movie star.
I offer to make him more food even though I piled enough on his plate to feed several grown men, but I’m searching for any reason to have him stay for a little longer. Looking down at the table, I hope he doesn’t see that I’m affected by him. Am I panting a little? What is going on with me? I’ve never wanted anyone other than Alex. Never been with anyone other than Alex. It must just be because I haven’t been laid in so long. The ladies keep picking on me about it. They keep saying I need to just relieve the pressure. Maybe it’s getting to me.
What’s that he just asked me? Do I like to cook? Telling him about culinary classes and my mom being a pastry chef, I know I’m getting animated. My hands are moving along with me. Such a bad habit, but I can’t stop once I get going. I can see the humor in his eyes. Makes him look younger and less tense.
Clearing my throat, “Sounds like something my Grams would say,” I rasp out around a weak smile. It’s a weak, but genuine smile. It isn’t a smile I would give to the fans or for the cameras. This is a real one just for her. It’s a little sad, too, because in this moment, in this stranger’s dining room in nowhere New Hampshire, I feel comfortable. Too comfortable. And for once… I’m ok with it.
I hate being Tucker Stavros.
*********************
I can tell he needs a minute to recover from hearing that my husband is dead and from my behavior. I’m sure I looked like a complete fucking mess. I hate when Alex’s name comes up. It always throws me into a tailspin. I wish I was stronger. I wish I dealt with it better, but how do you stop loving someone who was part of your life for almost all of it? I’ve loved him since I was six years old. How do I stop now? Just because he’s not here doesn’t make him simply fade away. No one seems to understand that. I’m glad Tucker isn’t saying anything. I need a few moments to breathe.
I do feel like an idiot, though. Losing it in front of Tucker Stavros. Oh my God. I lost it in front of Tucker Stavros. Walking sex on a stick, just about every woman in the world would like to sleep with, he’s their fantasy, he’s so hot, Tucker Stavros. Shit! Ok, Adriana. Breathe. Count to ten. Stop making an ass of yourself.
Breaking me from my embarrassing thoughts, he tells me that breakfast is delicious. Never one to take compliments well, I know I’m blushing. I can’t help but wonder why he’s been eating so much fast food when he makes the comment, but mom and dad taught us to never pry. If people want you to know their business, they’ll tell you. It didn’t seem like he was throwing the comment out there for open conversation, so I don’t ask. It’s killing me, though. I’m very curious. He seems different than what I expected. I expected a cocky, smug, arrogant asshole. All the words kind of mean the same thing, don’t they? Well, that is what I expected. I just thought he’d walk in here and demand things like I get him a drink or treat me as less than him– stupid shit like that. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe try to talk me out of my panties? Wishful thinking. Could still happen. No… nooo. Where the hell did that come from? Alex, no one is talking me out of my panties. Especially not some hottie movie star.
I offer to make him more food even though I piled enough on his plate to feed several grown men, but I’m searching for any reason to have him stay for a little longer. Looking down at the table, I hope he doesn’t see that I’m affected by him. Am I panting a little? What is going on with me? I’ve never wanted anyone other than Alex. Never been with anyone other than Alex. It must just be because I haven’t been laid in so long. The ladies keep picking on me about it. They keep saying I need to just relieve the pressure. Maybe it’s getting to me.
What’s that he just asked me? Do I like to cook? Telling him about culinary classes and my mom being a pastry chef, I know I’m getting animated. My hands are moving along with me. Such a bad habit, but I can’t stop once I get going. I can see the humor in his eyes. Makes him look younger and less tense.
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