Blissful Hook by Hannah Cowan

Chapter 20

It seems my mood is shared with the entire city as rain continues streaming outside my bedroom window. The unrelenting raindrops pelt against the thick glass, creating a depressing visual of how I feel inside.

Tiny balls of sweat stick to my skin, yet I can't bring myself to push off the thick duvet that covers me. I lay in a tight ball instead, and continue to drown in my puddle of regret. The faint smell of Tyler's cologne still lingers on my clothes from last night, making me feel guiltier as the seconds tick on.

His face keeps flashing through my mind, terrorizing me whenever I think sleep might be possible. The rejection that had washed over his features when I didn't respond to his words grips my stomach in its fist, yanking me around as the image continues to burn itself deeper into my memory.

You, Gray. I think I’m addicted to you.

His words took me by surprise. It was like someone flipped off the lights in my head. Those eight words might not have been an obvious declaration of love, but I know better than anyone that to Tyler, they may as well have. That was his attempt at letting me see the big heart that he keeps stored safely away from this world. But I was too caught up in my own feelings to think about his.

I just stared back at him—for how long I'm not even sure—just opening and closing my mouth like a damn fish. I tried racking my brain for some sort of perfect response. But I took a few seconds too long. He took my silence as a sign of rejection, and in good old Tyler fashion, closed up immediately, not letting me get another word in before he was hiding that part of him from me again. He all but pushed me out of his truck with a clenched jaw and a wave of his hand. The black smoke was the only remainder of him as I stood on the curb, watching him speed away through blurry eyes. Little did he know he was taking a fragment of me with him.

It's safe to say that I haven't moved from my bed since then, not even for the McDonalds Jess tried to bribe me with this morning. I’ve been staring at the flat screen hanging on the wall across the room for so long my eyes burn. But I don’t dare turn it off now. My brother is skating across T.V as his team wins with another unsurprising blowout score. With him being so far away, it's almost soothing to be able to see him play, even if it is just through a small screen. Days like today, though, I wish he was just a drive away. I know he's out doing what he loves, but I miss him and his horrible advice a lot more than I would ever admit to him.

Sometimes I need my big brother.

Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be alone.

I pull the blankets tighter around my head when someone knocks on my door. "What?" I grumble, my voice muffled. The door handle rattles before the light from the hall floods the room and through the thick material of my blanket.

"Is that any way to talk to your favourite soon-to-be sister?”

I rip the blanket off with flailing arms and launch myself at Ava. My squeal mutes her gentle laugh and I throw my arms around her shoulders.

“You reek like sweat.” She sniffs me with a scrunched nose.

I roll my eyes and sit back down on my bed, running a hand over my hair in an attempt to diminish the static left behind from my duvet.

"I thought you would have been in Vegas with Oakley this weekend. When did you get here?" I’m nearly bouncing in place.

"Vegas isn't really my thing. I decided to pay a visit to you guys instead. You know how your brother gets at the Casino. There’s only so many poker games this girl can watch before she falls asleep at the table." She drops a small bag down beside my door and sits down beside me. "I got here last night but Morgan insisted I stay with them."

We laugh together and I feel a smile touch my lips for the first time today. "How is the mama doing? She's gotta be ready to pop soon, right?" I'm sure we're all more than ready to meet baby Miller.

Ava nods. "A little over a month to go. Matt is about ready to pull his hair out."

"I don't blame him. The guy's a damn saint for being able to handle Morgan." We all love Morgan, but God she makes Regina George look like a saint when she's pregnant.

"Speaking of saints. How's Tyler?" she asks, brows dancing with excitement and a knowing curiosity. I shake my head before I let the guilt reach for me again.

"What's that look for? Did he do something? I swear! Between him and Adam I'm going to lose my damn mind," she growls, and with a huff, shoves her hand into her jacket pocket and pulls out her phone.

"No, Ava. Don't. He didn't do anything!” I nearly shriek, reaching into her lap to grab the phone.

"He didn't?" Her eyes widen and she stares at me without blinking. Sheesh, you would have thought I just told her the sky was falling.

I drop my head in my hands and shake my head a few times. "No. I did."

"You did?" she sputters. I still don’t think that she’s blinked.

"I finally started to make a dent in that fucking wall of his right before I helped glue it right back together," I groan and throw myself back on my bed.

I hear her sigh as I stare at the tiny lumps on the ceiling. She lies down beside me and links her hand with mine, giving it a squeeze.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

Always the voice of reason, this one. "I met his family, Ava. And he opened up to me, about his feelings," I sigh.

She sucks in a sharp breath and turns her head to the side to stare at me again. Her eyes are nowhere as big now. "You did? Isn't that a good thing? What happened? What did you do?"

"They’re awful, Ava. Absolutely awful. And I did nothing. That's the problem. I did absolutely nothing. I just stared at him—silently—for a good five minutes after he finally opened up to me."

Ava turns her head to the front again and gnaws on her lip. I groan and wipe my hands down my cheeks. "I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," she scolds and pushes herself up into a sitting position. "Maybe a little slow, but not an idiot."

"What do I do? You know Tyler better than I do."

She flicks me in the arm. "We both know that isn't true anymore."

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch.

"Just go talk to him. I'll even drive you on my way to Adam's," she offers, smiling warmly. "After you shower that is."

I push myself out of bed with a laugh. I hear the soft ding of Ava's phone when I stretch out all the tight muscles that have been extremely unused in the last day.

"I'm going to get rid of my stench. Just make yourself at home," I say, earning a nod in response.

"Always do." She winks. When she looks down at her phone, green eyes popping open with excitement as she presses it to her ear. "Hey, baby. "

I catch the muffled voice of my brother on the other end of the call before I turn and head to my bathroom, smiling wide.

h

“Tell me again why you need to go to Adam’s?" I ask when we get inside Ava's brand new Range Rover—a very extravagant gift from my brother. Apparently, her old car wasn't cutting it for Oakley, so like any twenty-three-year-old millionaire, he went out and bought her her dream car. Of course, in good Ava fashion, she insisted he bring it back that day, but the silly girl should have known that wouldn't work.

"It's a long story," she sighs over the soft murmurs coming from the fancy sound system.

"Too bad. Tell me."

Flipping on her blinker she moves into the far lane. "Oakley and I kept something from him that we shouldn't have."

Raising a brow, I wait for her to continue.

"Last time your brother and I were here, we went out to this new bar opening and saw Cora there. And she wasn’t there with Adam," she sighs and furrows her brows, causing a few wrinkles to slide across her otherwise smooth forehead. My stomach swirls at the thought of Adam’s girlfriend—of one seemingly solid year—out partying with another guy.

"Okay,” I ask. “Who was she with? A guy?”

Ava nods. "No clue. I’ve never seen him before, but we’re pretty positive that it wasn’t just a friendly meeting. Unless making out with your friends is the new normal.”

"For real? What a bitch." Poor Adam. He always ends up with the shit end of every damn stick.

"I should have told him, Gray. He's really hurt." She turns into Tyler's visibly unappealing neighbourhood with a frown so deep I’m afraid it could stay like that forever. My mom always said that if you frown for too long, your face would stay like that. Although it was just a scare tactic, I wouldn’t want Ava never to smile again. She has a smile that could turn anyone’s day from gloomy, to bright and sunny.

We stand out like a sore thumb as we continue driving down the pothole-infested street, our bodies jostling around with every bump. Would it kill the city to fill in some of these? It's clear the neighbourhood hasn't heard laughter in a while as the cracked concrete remains unscuffed, not a single soul braving to walk alone even underneath the sun's bright glow. We pass building after building, all of which are empty. The once well-loved storefronts are now decorated with smashed glass and chipped paint, an eyesore to every set of curious eyes. At one time, this must have been a booming neighbourhood. A place people went to mingle and enjoy the light air. But now, it's a place people go when they don't want to be found.

"Adam always forgives you. Don't be too hard on yourself. You didn't mean to hurt him." I give her an encouraging smile before starting to twist the strings of my hoodie. A nervous habit.

"And Tyler will forgive you." She reaches across the center console and gives my arm a squeeze. We pull over to the side of the road and Ava parks beside Tyler’s truck.

The building gawks at us as my thighs remain glued to the seat and fear starts to creep up my spine. This could go terribly wrong. He could open the door just seconds before slamming it back in my face, not listening to a single word I try forcing from my lips.

"You got this, Gray. You're a boss ass bitch. Now go get your man," Ava encourages me from her seat and nods towards the building.

Taking a much-needed breath, I nod a few times and smile at her. I can do this. "Thanks for coming, Ava. I missed you." I lean across the car and give her a quick side hug that she returns just as eagerly. Grabbing my purse from the floor, I open the door.

My sneakers hit the busted sidewalk cautiously as I send Ava a wave and watch her pull away from the curb. I turn to face the building and swallow the ball in my throat and force myself to start walking. It only takes a few seconds to reach the heavy glass door. The heater tucked in the corner of the entrance blows furiously as I step inside and the overbearing smell of cigarette smoke fills my lungs. As I reach forward to buzz his apartment, I notice the door is already held open by a ratty old phone book.

"Guess it's my lucky day," I mumble under my breath and push it open, placing my foot on the first step. I try not to gag when the dirty carpet squishes under my feet. I'm out of breath when I reach his door three floors later.

My fist hits the door three times before I take a step back and shove my hands in the pocket of my hoodie. I hear footsteps thump from in the apartment. The intimidating sound syncs perfectly with the thumping rhythm of my heart. I hear him curse under his breath before I hear the chain lock slide. The door is pulled open quickly and my mouth dries when I come face to face with the guy in front of me. All coherent thoughts dissipate as fast as the air from my lungs.

"What?" he grumbles.

"Hi." My voice raises awkwardly in some sort of embarrassing squeak as I stand awkwardly in the doorway. Tyler looks down at me, wearing nothing but a loose towel and an intimidating scowl.

"Do you need something?" he asks. His scowl twists up into a smirk when he notices where my attention has fallen. My eyes find the scattered water droplets that hang from his naked skin. The perfectly spaced indents that form his impressive six-pack yank the breath from my lungs. I itch to reach out and touch him, to feel the heat beneath my fingertips, to snake my hand beneath that freaking towel.

"Want me to just drop the damn thing?"

"What?" I nearly choke on a cough.

"Do you want me to drop the towel? It seems to be obstructing your view."

My eyes pop open quickly before I collect my composure and narrow them into slits. "Can I come in or not?"

Tyler moves aside, opening his arm as a silent invitation. I straighten my back and walk past him. A sharp breeze scrapes along the living room floor and nips at my thin sock-covered toes as I walk cautiously around the random clothing items strewn around. The patio door is slid open, exposing the bland cement balcony that looks onto the empty streets. Not much of a view if you ask me.

"Are you here to embarrass me again?" Tyler asks from behind me. His voice is so void of all emotion that I find myself flinching.

I turn around with a sigh and fold my arms across my chest.. He's no longer in only a towel. Now his chiselled chest is covered by a plain white t-shirt while a pair of grey sweats hang on his hips.

"Can we sit and talk or do you want us to fight instead?"

He rolls his eyes and walks past me to sit down on the couch. With a deep breath, I nod my head and follow, sitting on the cushion beside him.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you," I mumble and stare at the dark hair that covers his jaw while he keeps his gaze locked in front of him. I watch as he swallows harshly, throat bobbing before he runs his fingers through his onyx hair.

"I should have said something. I wanted to say something."

"Don't worry about it. I actually don't even know why I said anything. I wasn't thinking." He shrugs and finally brings his brown eyes to mine. The lack of any feeling in those dark chocolate orbs is like a stab to my chest. I know he doesn't mean that. This is what Tyler does, he's just trying to push me away.

"Don't try it, Ty. You're not fooling me."

"Then you're dumber than I thought."

I drop my eyes to the button on the couch cushion laying beside my thigh, half pulled from its stitches. His words hurt, regardless if they're true or not.

"Stop it. You know you can't push me away."

He keeps staring at the wall and leans his elbows on the loose pants that cover his thighs. He doesn't say anything as I continue to watch him. I can feel my anger rising while my patience drops.

"Just look at me. What good does fighting this do? Clearly you care about me in one way or another. So stop being a damn pussy and admit it already!" I shout, fed up.

"Are you really calling me a pussy? After what happened?"

"If it hadn't taken you so long to finally admit you have feelings for me then maybe I wouldn't have been so damn shocked!"

"I never said I had feelings for you.” He’s retreating now, looking out towards the window.

"Fine. Then I'll leave. Is that what you want? Because I'm not going to keep doing this. If you don't want me, then I'll leave. Simple as that."

My words seem to spark a reaction from inside him because he whips his head to the side and lets out a string of curses before smashing out mouths together. Our groans intertwine as I throw my leg over his thighs and sit in his lap, straddling him. I grab his hair in a tight fist and pull him as close to me as possible, terrified that if I don’t, he’ll push me away. He takes me by surprise when he grabs my cheeks in his palms and deepens the kiss, keeping me in place.

I release his hair and take the opportunity to run my hands over his hard body, not stopping until the soft material of his shirt is bunched between my fingers. He unlatches his lips from mine for a brief second so he can tug the shirt over his head and throw it across the room before moulding our mouths together again.

His skin is hot under my touch, addicting almost as I continue to feel him with abandon. He's rough, yet somehow gentle as he places his hands on my hips, pushing the material of my sweater up until I feel his fingers sending shocks through my bones.

We should talk.

My core throbs as I grind down on the hardness beneath me, waves of pleasure shooting up my spine when he lets out a thick sound of approval. His thin sweatpants do little to hide his hard length, only seeming to make it harder to deny the primal need I feel.

We need to talk.

I squeak in surprise when he pushes up from the couch, his hands tightening on my hips as he lifts me with him. I wrap my thighs around him on impulse. I drag my lips from his and move them down his neck, kissing every inch of the sensitive skin as he moves us out of the dimly lit living room.

Maybe we can wait to talk.

My back hits the bed seconds before Tyler's hands start roaming my body. His touch is greedy, frantic, and all too addicting. When he reaches for the band of my leggings, his eyes meet mine, filled to the brim with an emotion I can’t decipher as he leans down to place an open-mouthed kiss on my collarbone. His fingers slide under my sweater, moving upward until my bra-covered breasts are held firmly in his hands.

"Relax," he coaxes, pushing my bra away, exposing my skin to his intoxicating touch.

“Tyler,” I sigh and he starts dragging my sweater up my chest, pushing it over my head and tossing it onto the floor. My back arches when he unclasps my bra and pulls it off. His eyes are stormy as they watch me writhe underneath him.

"Stop teasing me," I plead when he leans back and traces a finger across my damn panty covered slit.

“Patience has never been your thing, beautiful.” He has a smirk stretched across his swollen lips that I want to suck off.

He's right, it never has. But I don’t want to start being patient now. Not when the pulse between my legs is faster than the one in my chest.

No, I need him inside me right now.

"Can we talk now?" I murmur as we both fall from our highs. My chest rises rapidly and his warm breaths cause loose hairs to fall in my face. I have my head on his chest and he lays beneath me, hands resting at his sides as if he’s suddenly afraid to touch me.

"We should."

I nod and reluctantly push off his chest, instantly missing his warmth. "Well, what are we? Because I don't usually do what we just did with all my other guy friends."

"I fucking hope not," he growls, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me back to him, much to my pleasure.

"There would be no need to be jealous if you just made me your girlfriend, you know?" I tease, throwing him a wink that I hope doesn’t look as nervous as I feel. I don’t know why I said that.

He scowls at my joke but keeps his arm wrapped tightly around me anyway. "I don't know if I can do the whole girlfriend thing, Gray. I'm a shitty person in case you forgot. I don’t think I would treat you how you deserve to be treated.”

"Shut up. You're not a shitty person," I scold him. "You have a shitty attitude, sometimes sure, but you're a great person. You just do a good job of hiding it."

"Someone thinks they’re smart this morning."

"Don't be an ass hole.” I swat his chest but wear a small smile.

"I can't promise that I'll be a good boyfriend,” he sighs and shakes his head.

"Then we'll work on it together."

“You say that now,” he laughs, the sound empty of all emotion. “What about when I inevitably fuck everything up? I’m not reliable, Gracie. Between having to take care of my mother, and everything that comes with playing professional hockey, I can’t promise that you’ll be my first priority, as hard as I try to make you be.”

I know that this is hard for him. I understand that he must have enough emotional trauma to last far longer than a lifetime, but I want him to let me help him. I need him to let me help him.

I keep my voice quiet and my tone free of judgment. I’m terrified of spooking him with the pressure I’m dying to finally put on him to make a decision. I reach towards his face and turn it towards me, forcing him to look at me with guarded eyes. “How much longer are you going to fight this?”

He blinks slowly and his jaw tenses slightly in my hand before relaxing soon after. I grab the hand lying closest to me and bring it to my chest, pressing it flat against the bare skin between my breasts.

“Feel how hard my heart is beating,” I mutter, almost begging. “That’s for you. It’s been like that for years, but you never gave me the chance to tell you.”

There’s a subtle flex of his fingers against my skin and the air he’s been holding comes out in one big puff. His eyes are hooded, but for the first time in a year, I don’t see a speck of regret in them before he gently kisses the top of my head, lingering there.

“Okay, Gray. Okay.”