Page 25 of Blitz

“He misses you.”

Tucker snorts.

“He does. You guys were best friends. You shouldn’t let something like—”

“Like you dumping me?” His voice is hard-edged and thick, bitter and full of self-loathing. He licks his lips, his eyes dark. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“Tucker…”

“You ask your brother why he stopped returning my calls,” he snaps. “Let him tell you why.”

He finishes his first sandwich with two more aggressive bites. He studies the next one carefully before he shakes his head, pushing his plate away.

“Micah said he reached out to you, that you were the one who cut things off.”

He laughs. “He’s always been good with revisionist history.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s always been yours, Princess. He was never mine.”

I want to smile at my old nickname, but the hard set of his jaw robs me of my short-lived joy.

“He was your best friend.”

“Yeah. Was.” He rubs at his chin, scratching through the thin layer of his beard. “That’s been over for a long time, Princess.”

He used my nickname again!

“Maybe you could try…”

He laughs and shakes his head. “That’s done. I’ve closed the book on that stage of my life.”

“King…”

“We should study. That’s why we’re here. I didn’t agree to go strolling down memory lane.”

“Is that really so bad?” My voice softens. “We have a lot of history. That can’t all be swept away in the blink of an eye.”

He pulls his plate back towards him and takes a giant bite of his second sandwich.

“King—”

“No. You don’t get to call me that.” He chews and swallows thickly. “That stage of our life is over, Mason. You made that abundantly clear.”

“It doesn’t have to be. We can—”

“Oh, so now you want me? When it’s convenient for you?” His laugh is cold. Bitter. “I’m not some dildo you keep around in the nightstand for when you get lonely. You don’t get to call me up after two and a half years and—”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

I want him. Not just for sex. I want him. All I’ve ever wanted is him. Getting back together will fix everything.

“It’s exactly what you’re doing, and I’m not about that life. We can’t be friends. We can’t hook up again. We can’t even study together.” He snorts in derision and slams his textbook closed. “Face it, babe, there’s no path for us moving forward.”

“We can be friends. We can—” I stop, swallow. “You don’t want to sleep with me?”

“I need to actually like the person I’m fucking,” he says crudely, cruelly. “Right now that’s not a possibility.”