After Math (16 page)
“I’m sorry I left you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I not only left you but hurt you in the process.” He pauses. “You were right. About everything. I thought you were too good to be true. I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anything, even playing professional soccer, but I didn’t think I deserved you. I tried to hurt you when I left so there’d be no chance of you taking me back.”
“Tucker.”
He closes his eyes and scrunches them shut, then exhales as he opens them to stare into my face. “I know I don’t deserve you now, and I have no right to hope you’ll let me back in your life, but I want you to know leaving you will always be my biggest regret, and we both know I’ve made a shit-ton of mistakes.”
I swallow a sob building in my chest. I can’t believe he’s here. I can’t believe he’s telling me this.
“I’ve quit the team, and I’m coming back to Southern. I’ll take some classes this summer to make up for missing this semester, but I’m changing my major to secondary education, so I’ll need to go at least another year to take the classes I need.”
“You’re changing your major?”
“You were right. You’re right about everything. I want to teach high school history and coach soccer. Maybe work with some foster teens and help them make better choices than Marcel and I made. I’ve already talked to the counseling department here, and they’ll let me back in.”
“What about your soccer scholarship?”
“I lost it, but I’m glad, even if it means I’m going to be stuck with a ton of student loans. I’m thinking about joining a rec league so I’m playing just to have fun and there’s no pressure. Maybe I’ll love it again.”
He’s so good at soccer, I want him to love it again. “I suspect the teams will be fighting over you.”
“Maybe, but I need to get my grades back up first.” He gives me a sheepish grin. “I dropped algebra so I need to take another math class. I’ll have to take a statistics class, and I hoped maybe you’d tutor me.”
I’m trying to get the words out to tell him that I’ve missed him, and I want him back, but they’re stuck in my throat, tangled in my building tears.
“Scarlett, I have no right to ask you this, not after the way I’ve treated you, but I’m going to ask anyway.” He takes a deep breath and squeezes my hand as though he’s worried I’m about to bolt. “I’m miserable without you. I need you. I understand if you don’t trust me and you need me to earn back your trust. I understand if you need to go slow—”
“Tucker.”
He sounds desperate now. “Nothing makes sense without you. I love you, Scarlett. Please give me another chance.”
“I love you, too.”
His eyes widen. “What?”
“I love you, too. I need you, too.”
“You… don’t you…”
“No. I don’t need time. I need you.”
He leans forward and wraps his arms around my back, kissing me and showing me how much he’s missed me. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy, Scarlett.”
I smile, still not believing this is happening. “You’re off to a great start.”
Epilogue
Butterflies fill my stomach. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
“You are not going to throw up.” Tucker says in my ear, pressing his chest to my back and wrapping his arms around my stomach. “Take several deep breaths, close your eyes, and picture yourself walking into that FBI office for your internship, feeling confident and in control.”
His belief in me fills me with confidence. “I love you.”
He kisses my neck. “I love you, too. You’re going to blow them away. Now let’s get you some coffee before you go.”
We head to the kitchen, weaving through towers of boxes stacked everywhere.
Tucker pours coffee from his coffee maker into my travel mug. He looks up with a grin. “I know it’s not the one-touch coffee maker you and Caroline shared, but I’m not shirking on my coffee-making duties yet.”
Grinning, I shake my head. “You’ve only been at this two days.”
“And I haven’t failed you yet.” He hands the mug to me. “Does Tina need help moving her things into Caroline’s apartment?”
Caroline’s apartment
sounds strange. Home with Caroline these past three years has been more of a home to me than my mother’s ever was. “No, I think she’s good, although she may fake needing help, hoping some of your soccer buddies will show up and help.”
Tucker laughs. “We might be able to arrange something.”
“What about you? Are you nervous about your summer session at school? It’s your first day, too.”
“Nervous? Nah. Not with these classes. But I suspect I will be nervous when I start working with actual students next fall.”
“You’ll be great.” I wrap my hands around his neck and pull his mouth to mine. “I’ll miss you today.”
“I’ll miss you, too. But later I’ll show you how much I missed you.”
I grin and realize Tucker has helped ease my anxiety. “Something to look forward to tonight.”
He smiles, love in his eyes. “We’ve only just started a lifetime of
something to look forward to
s.”
I like the sound of that.
Acknowledgments
First I’d like to thank the awesome Trisha Leigh who endured me saying “I think I want to write a new adult book.” for months until she finally said, “Will you just shut up and do it already?”
I love her.
They say write what you know, but I didn’t know anything about mathematic majors. Nor soccer. Thankfully, I found Jody Parker, a friend of a friend, who is a math major at a university in California. Thank goodness for her patience as I plied her with question after question. And many thanks to Peter Wilkinson who played soccer in college and offered valuable insight into Tucker’s team requirements during his off season.
Thank you to the readers who read AFTER MATH and gave me their valuable opinion. I can always count on the wonderful wisdom of Rhonda Cowsert. And Wendy Webb is always eager to fulfill her beta-reading duties.
I added some new beta readers this time. Thank you, thank you to Becky Podjenski, Emily Pearson, and Christie Timpson!
Thank you to Cynthia L. Moyer for jumping in and helping with copy editing as well as proofreading! I couldn’t have gotten this out on time without you!
And thanks to Kristen Yard for proofing so quickly even though you got the manuscript five days late. And also to Paola Bell for jumping in and proofing so quickly too!
Many, many thanks to Heather Smith, my assistant who keeps me organized (as best she can) and always has my back, even if it means rushing me to an airport to beat a snowstorm. I’m so glad you asked to make your temporary position permanent.
To my children—I’m sorry Mommy’s a workaholic, but thank you for understanding how important this is to me and supporting me, even when it means traveling a whole bunch. I love you guys.
About the Author
Denise Grover Swank was born in Kansas City, Missouri and lived in the area until she was nineteen. Then she became a nomadic gypsy, living in five cities, four states and ten houses over the course of ten years before she moved back to her roots. She speaks English and smattering of Spanish and Chinese which she learned through an intensive Nick Jr. immersion period. Her hobbies include witty Facebook comments (in own her mind) and dancing in her kitchen with her children. (Quite badly if you believe her offspring.) Hidden talents include the gift of justification and the ability to drink massive amounts of caffeine and still fall asleep within in two minutes. Her lack of the sense of smell allows her to perform many unspeakable tasks. She has six children and hasn’t lost her sanity. Or so she leads you to believe.
You can find out more about Denise and her other books at:
or email her at
[email protected]
