Teaching Tucker (Face-Off Legacy/Campus Kings 3)

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I tell Eden.

She laughs and munches on another cookie, speaking with her mouth full of food. “My mom only makes these once a year. I’ll eat until I puke.”

I laugh. “You’re on your own then. I can’t even think straight after eating so many carbs.”

She shakes her head. “You can’t watch what you eat on Christmas. There’s a rule.”

I chuckle. “No, there’s not.”

She smirks. “Well, there should be.”

“All the carbs make my head foggy,” I admit, and she already knows this. My body doesn’t digest complex carbohydrates properly, and for some reason, it takes longer to process them. “I have to finish my article later. Need to be focused.”

Eden sighs. “You work too much, Sam. Take a day off. It won’t kill you.”

“I don’t know how to take a day off,” I joke, even though it’s true.

I work to pay the bills, but I also do it to keep my mind from wandering. If I allow myself, I’ll sink into self-loathing mode. That can’t happen. Not when I’m so close to graduating and moving on with my life and career.

Eden rests her elbows on the table and leans forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Did you send her the latest news?”

By her she means the girl who goes by The Queen. We still have no clue who she is or why she’s so interested in the men’s ice hockey team, but she pays well. That’s about all I need to know. As long as the checks keep coming so will the information.

“It’s not much,” I admit. “But it will have to do. They haven’t been in the spotlight as much since her first dethroning.”

She flicks her hair over her shoulder and sinks into the chair, staring out the window next to us. “Do you feel bad?”

I nod. “Yes. All the time.”

“It was too good of an offer to pass up.”

“She made it too easy to say yes.”

A small part of me feels guilty for sneaking around to get information. We both learned how to use our journalism skills to find dirt on people. No one ever thinks anything of me. I’m always the shy, smart girl everyone overlooks. So, when I ask questions, their guard is already lowered. They have no idea I’m using whatever they say to make a quick buck.

My phone dings in my pocket. I know the ringtone before I look at the screen. “She needs more,” I say to Eden, holding out the phone for her to read the message.

“Wow.” She gasps at the rude message. “She really has a way with words, huh?”

“She’s nothing more than a spoiled brat who wants revenge against those guys for who knows what. After what Tucker did to me, what the rest of them continue to do to other girls, I’m sure they deserve whatever she has planned for them.”

Eden folds her hands on her lap and sighs. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. All of the guys on that campus are such assholes. I can’t believe how much I allowed Romeo to convince me he was a good guy.”

“You dated a guy who goes by the name Romeo.” I try not to laugh and fail. “What did you expect?”

A blush creeps down her neck flushing her cheeks. “Shut up, Sam. You were with Tucker. Not like he’s any better.”

“Nah, but he’s hotter.” I flash a wicked grin, and she waves her hand at me telling me to be quiet.

Our fun time ends with another message, but this time it’s not from The Queen. My blood runs cold when I see Jim’s name pop up on the screen.

“What the fuck does he want?” I groan under my breath.

“Your dad?”

“Yeah.” I roll my finger across the screen to read the message and roll my eyes. “He needs more beer.”

Eden’s face darkens. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“He’s such a loser.” I shove the phone back into my pocket and ignore him. “How about ‘Merry Christmas’ or perhaps even ‘How are you doing?’”

“What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. He needs to dry out.”

“Won’t he run to the store drunk?”

I shrug. “Maybe. He always drinks more on holidays because of my mom. I know he misses her, but I can’t add to his addiction.”

My childhood therapist told me I can’t destroy myself in pursuit of his temporary happiness. When I was younger, I had conditioned myself to believe that if I went to the store for him or grabbed a beer from the fridge on my way into the living room, I would be rewarded, and he would love me more because of it. But I learned the hard way.

Three years ago, right after I made the mistake of giving Tucker my virginity, I decided to take my power back. I entered therapy and finally realized I didn’t have to tolerate this kind of abuse from anyone. And so I don’t. The only reason I still help my father is because I don’t want to lose the goodness inside me to his darkness. I don’t want him to smother my light.