I start to laugh all over again. “Yes, I really want to.”
“Can I come pick you up in, say, an hour?”
“That sounds perfect.”
Chapter Six
Tucker
I take the fastest shower known to man the moment I end the call with Maisey. I shave my face, wash my hair, then actually blow that shit dry because I want to look perfect for this girl tonight.
The girl who used to be my girl.
I change my shirt three times until I get it right and end up annoyed with myself. Slap on some cologne and immediately think I put on too much, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. Ignore the phone calls that come first from Georgia, then from Stella, then from Georgia one more time, who ends up leaving me a voicemail.
My sisters are complete pains in my ass, but what else is new?
I listen to the voicemail and she’s asking about the cake, and the party, and the costume idea, and she sounds annoyed by the entire thing.
Deleting her voicemail, I tell myself I’ll call her tomorrow.
I finish getting ready way faster than I thought and to help kill time, I start pacing my hotel room, my gaze snagging on the window and the gorgeous lake view. There are still a few boats on the water, and it makes me think I should borrow my brother’s boat and take it out for the day.
Maybe I could take Maisey with me.
Pacing the hotel room only lasts for so long until I finally decide fuck it and leave the hotel, hop into my rental car, and haul ass over to Maisey’s place. She texted me the address earlier, and when I pull up in front of the duplex, I find that it’s in the older part of town. But it’s been kept up nicely, with mature trees providing plenty of shade and a lush green lawn in the front. I’m fifteen minutes early from my “pick you up in an hour” promise, but I don’t care.
I’m too anxious to get this night started.
The door swings open before I can even knock and Maisey is standing there in a pretty white sundress that accentuates her golden skin, her lips curved in a welcoming smile. “You’re early.”
“Yet you’re ready,” I say, letting my gaze linger.
Damn, she’s pretty.
She laughs and pulls the door shut behind her, not even giving me a glimpse of what’s inside. I’m sort of disappointed, considering I’m curious about everything that makes up today’s Maisey. I want to see where she lives, where she eats, where she sleeps.
Yeah, the perv buried deep inside of me definitely wants to see her bed.
“I’m ready because I’m starving,” she says as she locks her front door.
“Where do you want to eat?” I ask as we start down the walkway, headed toward my rental car.
“Wherever you want to go,” she says with a slight shrug. The movement causes me to zero in on her slender shoulders, and I’m hit with the sudden urge to kiss them.
Slow your roll, McCloud. At least get the woman some dinner first.
“Is that one steak place still open?” I ask.
“The place where you took me f
or winter formal? Yeah, it is,” she says with a wistful smile.
Winter Formal. My senior year, her junior year. Where I thought I was going to get lucky and finally, finally have sex with the girl I was in love with.
Instead, Maisey had one too many beers—and she only had two—and proceeded to throw up for the rest of the night. Such a lightweight.
“You’re remembering when I threw up, huh?” she says, amusement filling her tone.