Blissful Hook by Hannah Cowan
Chapter 17
Present
"Oakley's finally gone, eh?" Braden huffs, bent over and gripping his knees while he tries to catch his breath.
I ran him to the ground in the gym today. It's a rare occurrence for Braden to workout anywhere other than his dad's boxing gym, but he's a sucker for the equipment at the private gym myself and a few of my teammates go on our days off. The treadmills happen to actually be from this century.
"Yeah, he couldn't get on the plane fast enough this morning."
"You think he's getting laid tonight?" He wears a shit-eating grin, his lack of filter makes my nose wrinkle in disgust. The thought of what Ava and Oakley do when they're alone time is not something I often find myself thinking about.
"You're fucked," I shoot at him.
"Not as fucked as you, apparently. Tell me, why wasn't I filled in on your newfound love fest with baby Hutton?"
I clench my jaw and glare at him, stiffening my back to try and stand taller than him, but I fail. He's got a solid three inches on me.
"I hit a soft spot, did I, buddy?" he taunts.
"I'll be the one hitting if you don't shut up," I snap before relaxing my shoulders and trying to steady my racing heartbeat.
I brush off his watchful eyes and start walking to the locker room. Bringing my right hand up, I push open the heavy door and leave him laughing proudly to himself.
Braden joins me in the locker room a few seconds later. "I don't blame you for finally caving. Gracie's a fucking dime."
The mirrors on the wall shake dangerously beside us as I slam him up against the wall, my arm pushing up under his jaw to hold him in place. "Don't talk about her like that," I growl, keeping a dangerous amount of pressure on his throat.
"Aye, aye, captain," he gasps, wearing a grin despite the fact that I am cutting off his airway. He eyes my arm tucked under his chin. With a huff, I step back. He lurches forward, catching his breath.
"You good now?" Braden gasps, colour coming back to his face.
"I will be once I get the hell away from you." I open my locker, a pile of dirty clothes falling onto the ground.
"Shit, dude. I think it's time to do some laundry." His fake gag causes my eyes to roll as I bend down and hastily grab the clothes, shoving them in my open bag. Deciding to save myself from the unwanted company, I shrug on my jacket and slam the locker door shut.
"See you tomorrow." I slap his shoulder a little harder than necessary as I walk past him. I don’t wait for a response and leave him standing there alone, a smirk on his face no doubt.
There's not a single cloud in the night sky tonight, only millions upon millions of shiny dots laughing down at me. My driver's side door creaks when I pull it open, and I remind myself yet again to oil the damn thing. I'll add that to the endless list of things I need to do. The engine comes to life with a low rumble, blowing a large cloud of black smoke into the night. I roll down the window before pulling out into the empty street.
I'm pleasantly surprised to see the absence of my mother when I pull up outside my building. She's been here every day this week like clockwork, always sitting in the cold, forgetting all about the key that rests in her jacket pocket. I have come to the realization that Allen must have been gone again, most likely knocked out in an abandoned alleyway high out of his mind. She's always here more when he's gone.
I throw my bag over my shoulder and head inside, not wanting to stay out in the street longer than I have to. The neighbourhood's not great, but I would rather live here than in some fancy building that I don't feel comfortable in.
I know my friends don't understand why I continue to live in a neighbourhood filled with police sirens and potholes the size of Texas that the city can't be bothered enough to fix. It's where I feel the most at home. But I guess I can see where they're coming from. I make enough to live anywhere I want. But I can't seem to make the move, so I just don't.
Every last breath of air leaves my lungs when I slide my key into my apartment door to find it already unlocked.
"Fuck."
I shove the key back in my pocket, carefully place my hand on the knob, and turn, pushing the door open inch by inch. The lamp beside my couch is pouring a dull, yellow light throughout the small living room, illuminating it just enough for me to catch sight of my mom passed out on the couch.
I let out a sigh before moving entirely into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind me. Turning back, I almost let an exhausted laugh slip past my lips.
"When are you going to get it, Mom?" I whisper, shaking my head. I guess I should be thankful for her finally remembering her key and that she has also managed to make herself a makeshift bed on my couch.
Taking careful steps, not wanting the creaky floorboards to jolt her from her sleep, I tuck the blanket in beside her and place a kiss on the top of her head. As I flick off the lamp, I start to wonder if this will always be my life.
A continuous pounding on my door tears me from my third hour of sleep.
After spending the entire night stuck in deep thought, I finally managed to drift off at around four in the morning. Not like it did much good, though. The knocking stops as soon as I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand on wobbly knees. I run a hand over my face, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes before I throw open my bedroom door.
"You have the silkiest looking hair!" I hear Mom exclaim from the kitchen. Narrowing my brows in confusion, I look to the front door and see a pair of pink polka-dotted Vans lying beside my boots.
Fuck no.
I head to the kitchen, my strides larger than usual as fear digs its jagged claws into my skin. A giggle rings throughout the room, sending very familiar tingles up my spine.
"Thanks! It's all in the conditioner."
I round the corner and catch sight of her. Her hip is pressed against the counter as she shows off her perfectly straight, milky white teeth to my mom with a widespread grin.
"I wasn’t expecting guests."My gravelly tone carries through the room, surprising the two women in my kitchen as they turn to face me.
"Don't be so rude, Tyler," Mom scolds. "And put some clothes on."
A chill breeze rushes over me as I look down at my bare chest, an involuntary shudder shaking through me. As I look up again, my eyes are pulled to the stiff guest in my kitchen. She's openly staring at my exposed torso without a care in the world, her mouth hanging slightly open and her pink tongue resting slightly behind her bottom teeth.
Close your mouth unless you want me to fill it, Gracie.
"I'll be back," I mutter, ripping my gaze away and moving to my room before I have to explain why I'm sporting a boner in front of my mother.
After finding an old hockey shirt from my drawer, I toss it over my head and head back out to what I am pretty sure is going to be a complete fucking disaster. The smell of freshly brewed coffee greets me as I brush past the beige armchair that separates my living room and kitchen. If it wasn't for Adam, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have a damn thing in this place. But of course, he insisted we go furniture shopping the day after I moved in. He's more of a girl than any girl I know some days.
"How's your brother doing? Is he still playing hockey? Tyler doesn't tell me anything these days."
My back tenses at her jab. I brush off Gracie's questioning stare as I head to the cupboard that holds my coffee cups.
"He does." Gracie tries to hide her confusion as to how the woman in front of her doesn't know that her brother is the biggest name in hockey right now. "He just got engaged, actually."
I jolt at my mom's sudden squeal, a groan slipping past my lips when the coffee sloshes onto the granite, missing the round lip of the mug.
"That's so exciting! Congratulate him for me, would you?"
"Why would she do that? You don't even know him," I snap, clutching my cup in a tight fist and whipping around. She feigns ignorance from her seat at the table, mouth gaping open in shock as a subtle "oh" falls in the silence.
"Tyler," Gracie mutters, rising from her seat. Her wide eyes watch me cautiously as if she is trying to understand my behaviour.
I ignore Gracie and raise an eyebrow at my mother. "I don't have time for this. I'm assuming you have things to do today?"
Gracie snaps this time."Tyler!"
I turn my attention to her now, my eyes narrowed into sharp slits as I wait for another scolding. If she had any idea how my mother really is, outside of this facade she likes to paint, I wouldn't be the bad guy right now.
"It's okay, sweetie." Mom smiles slightly and stands, placing a gentle hand on Gracie's shoulder. "He's not much of a morning person. Actually, that reminds me." She turns to me again. "River called while you were sleeping. He is going to be in town this weekend."
My stomach drops. A dull pain starts to make its way through my skull. Gracie doesn't need to hear about my ever-so-perfect big brother.
"Tell brother dearest, I said to get fucked," I snap. Walking to the sink, I pour my full mug down the drain. Placing my hands on the edge of the steel basin, my grip tightens until my knuckles turn a ghastly shade of white.
"You can tell him yourself when you join us for dinner Saturday night."
A sarcastic laugh rips through me as I let go of the sink and turn around. "It will be at one of his fancy restaurants, right?"
I lock eyes with Gracie in an unspoken apology. She gives me a comforting smile. I can feel some of the overwhelming tension seeping from my body at the soothing action, my appreciation for her growing tenfold.
"As a matter of fact, yes, it is. I would love it if you brought Gracie along."
"I don't think s-"
"I would love to, Mrs. Bateman," Gracie cuts me off and moves beside me to place a hand on my arm. Her eyes dare me to argue.
"Perfect!" Mom beams, her gaze fixed on the not-so-subtle show of affection Gracie decided was the best way to get me to shut me up.
"Walk me out, would you Tyler?" she asks happily, almost as if she has no clue as to how I am really feeling, which she probably doesn't.
"I don’t mind walking you out! I need Tyler showered and ready to go as soon as possible," Gracie says, giving my arm a quick squeeze. She winks at me and ushers my mom to the front door. I sigh heavily once they are out of my line of sight and lean back against the counter, my body feeling weighed down. Listening for the click of the front door, I close my eyes and run a hand across my prickly beard.
"She's gone."
I nod my head in response, my eyelids not daring to open even an inch.
"I didn't know you had a brother."
I peel my eyelids open with a sigh. "Clearly, that was on purpose."
Watching as her shoulders rise and fall, a sudden feeling of guilt washes over me. I give my head a shake and walk towards her. I come to a stop when there is only a few inches of space between us.
"Thank you," I mumble, my eyes locked on hers before I pull her into my chest. Her body tenses from the odd action, but she relaxes quickly and wraps her arms around my waist. Our chests move perfectly in sync as we breathe in time. All thoughts of my brother are tossed from my mind as quick as the breaths from my lungs. I move my focus to the soothing motion of her hand, rubbing slow, wide circles on my lower back until I feel my eyelids start drooping.
"Are you planning on staying?" I mumble into the top of her head. I know that I shouldn't ask her to stay—it's not fair. But I don't care. Not right now.
She pulls away slightly, just enough to be able to look up at me. "Is that okay?"
"Yeah," I breathe, too exhausted to question myself.
"Then I'm staying," she murmurs, pressing her cheek against my chest.
I hum a response as I let my eyes close once again and move us back until I feel the edge of the counter against my lower back.
She's the first to pull back what feels like hours later. "Are you gonna pass out on me, Ty?" I grin sleepily before simply taking her hand in mine. I lead her out of the kitchen towards my bedroom. "You're not planning on getting lucky, are you? Cause I am so not ready for that right now," she says, all in a rush. Her cheeks flush a bright pink as she stares down at her feet.
I chuckle and shake my head, squeezing her hand. "I just want to sleep." She raises a suspicious brow. "Scouts honour." I wink, opening my door and leading her in the dark room before slipping my shirt over my head. After I adjust the covers I had so hastily discarded earlier, I hear her suck in a sharp breath of air. Turning around, I look at her, confused by her sudden change in mood.
The light, teasing energy has quickly morphed into a tense, hard-to-breathe one that I learn very quickly I don't like. Gracie's eyes are dull as she stares vacantly at the half-made bed, her bottom lip jutted out slightly before it's pulled rapidly between her teeth.
I scratch my neck awkwardly as I stare at the sad girl, my heart pulling painfully.
"Uh, Gracie?" I clear my throat with a cough. "You okay?" My question seems to snap her out of the trance. She shakes her head once and looks at me with a forced smile.
"It's just been a while since I've been in this room. I'm sorry."
Right. Since the time I completely abandoned you after a night of seemingly mind-blowing sex in my own fucking bed. Yeah, I know.
"You have already apologized. Please don't do it again. It was embarrassing enough the first time," she rambles as she strides over to the bed. Gracie slips under the covers , facing away from me as she pulls my duvet over her small body.
Swallowing down my apology, I nod to myself and crawl in after her. The heavy duvet wraps around me as I lay frigidly beside her, deciding to keep a smart amount of distance between us, not wanting to upset her even more. "You don't deserve to be left alone in anyone's bed. Especially not mine."
The room remains silent, our breathing the only sound in the space, taunting me almost, reminding me that I hurt her again. Maybe I should apologize? We both know she deserves it. But she deserves a lot more than some ridiculous apology after I treated her like a used puck bunny.
The air from my lungs evaporates when she turns towards me, her perfectly sculpted features illuminated from the faded hallway light. Her veil of blonde hair sprawls out on the pillowcase. She stares at me, the familiar gleam in her round eyes sparking a fire deep in my chest.
"I forgive you," she whispers and inches closer to place a cautious, gentle kiss on my lips.
My mind is a jumbled mess of guarded, unwanted thoughts as she pulls away, not giving me time to respond. She rests her head on my chest and lets out a deep sigh.
Fuck. What are you doing to me, Gracie Hutton?