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Authors: Elizabeth Seckman
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start with the most famous. If it’s the only one you get to see, then at least you’re less culturally deprived than before you met me.”
Her words made his heart sink to his stomach. If? Another movie wasn’t a sure thing? Tucker sat beside her. In his nervousness, he left more than two feet between them. He realized that was a newbie move, and he couldn’t help but think drunk girls in clubs were a damned sight easier to pick up than shy girls who liked black and white movies. He suddenly wasn’t sure he was capable of closing the deal with a girl like her.
She hit play, and the movie started. Josie was engrossed in the story, but Tucker couldn’t keep his eyes off her. His brain was on fire obsessing about the things he’d said and the things he should say. Catching his gaze out of the corner of her eye, she turned to him with a blush and said, “You’re not watching the movie.”
“Sure, I am. Sort of.” He set his plate on the coffee table in front of him.
“I can pick another one if you don’t like it.”
“I like it.”
“You’re not watching it.”
“Well, no. But I mean, yes, the movie’s fine. I was just…oh hell, it’s your fault.”
“My fault?”
“Yeah. Holy shit, Josie. You’re too distracting. I can’t watch a movie when all I can think is what can I say to impress you and try really, really hard not to break out into a sweat.”
“I can turn up the air conditioning.” Josie started to get up. Tucker grabbed her arm.
“Sit. It’s fine. I could be at the freaking Arctic, and I’d still be sweating.” His cheeks felt like they were on fire. This had to be his most humiliating moment. With his cool gone, he only had his dignity left to trample, so he figured what the hell. “Damn Josie, you’re beautiful.”
Poking him with her naked foot, she laughed. “Oh hush, Mr. Don Juan.”
“I wish.” He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “Now, watch your movie.” He turned his attention back to the TV. He could see Josie watching him from the corner of his eye.
After a few minutes, she said, “You’re pretty good-looking yourself.”
Tucker felt like a complete idiot. He couldn’t remember a time when a date made him feel so inept. He was pretty certain that when she looked at him, she saw through him, and he worried she’d find the nothingness he worked so damn hard to hide.
Unable to look at her, he rubbed his chin. He finally managed to say, “Thank you.”
Josie turned off the TV. “The name on your tattoo? Was she your girlfriend?”
Touching his shirt where the anchor and globe tattoo would be, Tucker said, “No, Ash was my buddy.”
Josie scooted closer to him and held his hand. “He the friend you lost, with the wife?”
“Yep, that’s him.”
“What happened?” She looked at him, but he gazed at the floor.
“He went to war, and he died.”
Her words were quiet, her tone patient. “How?”
Finally making eye contact with her, he thought about telling her the whole story, but he couldn’t say the words. Over and over he saw his friend’s last minutes. Saw the blood bubble from his mouth. Shaking off the nightmare montage that replayed continuously in his head, he said, “He died. That’s what happens when you fight a war. People die. End of story.”
Josie’s hand tightened around his. “I’m sorry, Tucker.”
Words choked him, so he nodded.
Josie leaned closer, pressing her cheek against his arm.
They sat there, neither moving, neither speaking until Tucker picked up the remote and turned the movie back on. Clearing his throat, he finally said, “Now, where were we on putting an end to my cultural depravity?”
Chapter 9
At the end of the evening, Tucker wanted to kiss her good night, but he couldn’t gather the courage. Instead, he stood there like a moron on her porch, making more conversation while he tried to grow a set big enough to close those few feet between them.
All he had to do was take one
Her words made his heart sink to his stomach. If? Another movie wasn’t a sure thing? Tucker sat beside her. In his nervousness, he left more than two feet between them. He realized that was a newbie move, and he couldn’t help but think drunk girls in clubs were a damned sight easier to pick up than shy girls who liked black and white movies. He suddenly wasn’t sure he was capable of closing the deal with a girl like her.
She hit play, and the movie started. Josie was engrossed in the story, but Tucker couldn’t keep his eyes off her. His brain was on fire obsessing about the things he’d said and the things he should say. Catching his gaze out of the corner of her eye, she turned to him with a blush and said, “You’re not watching the movie.”
“Sure, I am. Sort of.” He set his plate on the coffee table in front of him.
“I can pick another one if you don’t like it.”
“I like it.”
“You’re not watching it.”
“Well, no. But I mean, yes, the movie’s fine. I was just…oh hell, it’s your fault.”
“My fault?”
“Yeah. Holy shit, Josie. You’re too distracting. I can’t watch a movie when all I can think is what can I say to impress you and try really, really hard not to break out into a sweat.”
“I can turn up the air conditioning.” Josie started to get up. Tucker grabbed her arm.
“Sit. It’s fine. I could be at the freaking Arctic, and I’d still be sweating.” His cheeks felt like they were on fire. This had to be his most humiliating moment. With his cool gone, he only had his dignity left to trample, so he figured what the hell. “Damn Josie, you’re beautiful.”
Poking him with her naked foot, she laughed. “Oh hush, Mr. Don Juan.”
“I wish.” He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “Now, watch your movie.” He turned his attention back to the TV. He could see Josie watching him from the corner of his eye.
After a few minutes, she said, “You’re pretty good-looking yourself.”
Tucker felt like a complete idiot. He couldn’t remember a time when a date made him feel so inept. He was pretty certain that when she looked at him, she saw through him, and he worried she’d find the nothingness he worked so damn hard to hide.
Unable to look at her, he rubbed his chin. He finally managed to say, “Thank you.”
Josie turned off the TV. “The name on your tattoo? Was she your girlfriend?”
Touching his shirt where the anchor and globe tattoo would be, Tucker said, “No, Ash was my buddy.”
Josie scooted closer to him and held his hand. “He the friend you lost, with the wife?”
“Yep, that’s him.”
“What happened?” She looked at him, but he gazed at the floor.
“He went to war, and he died.”
Her words were quiet, her tone patient. “How?”
Finally making eye contact with her, he thought about telling her the whole story, but he couldn’t say the words. Over and over he saw his friend’s last minutes. Saw the blood bubble from his mouth. Shaking off the nightmare montage that replayed continuously in his head, he said, “He died. That’s what happens when you fight a war. People die. End of story.”
Josie’s hand tightened around his. “I’m sorry, Tucker.”
Words choked him, so he nodded.
Josie leaned closer, pressing her cheek against his arm.
They sat there, neither moving, neither speaking until Tucker picked up the remote and turned the movie back on. Clearing his throat, he finally said, “Now, where were we on putting an end to my cultural depravity?”
Chapter 9
At the end of the evening, Tucker wanted to kiss her good night, but he couldn’t gather the courage. Instead, he stood there like a moron on her porch, making more conversation while he tried to grow a set big enough to close those few feet between them.
All he had to do was take one
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