Page 22 of One More Time

I shook my head, trying to clear the warring thoughts.

“What happened with you?” I was desperate to change the subject. I wanted to forget all about Hunter Graves. Like that’ll ever happen. “Please say that preppy dipshit is now your ex-boyfriend.”

“Yep, he is. I followed them back to his dorm and watched him fuck that twinky little punk with a dick piercing in our bed.”

I made the mistake of taking a big gulp of my coffee just as he began to speak, and now I was coughing and spluttering, the hot liquid shooting out of my nose.

“Jesus, Cal. Fucking warn a guy when you are about to mention a pierced dick.”

This was my life now, I went from blocking my ears of my teammates speaking about pussy, to apparently having a new friend that spoke about dicks and piercings.

Cal laughed. “Sorry. Forgot. you’re a baby gay. To be honest, I kind of get my ex’s fascination with the guy. If he hadn’t already tainted him I’d be interested myself. Total waste if you ask me, being exclusively top and missing out on what that piercing—”

I raised my hand to stop him. “I get the picture.”

Cal only laughed harder. “Okay, okay. Well, I walked in, made a big scene while he was balls deep in the punk’s ass, then I watched as he pulled out and wailed that it was a moment of weakness, that he still loved me but I was so busy with my training that I made him feel alone. Blah, blah, blah. I told him to have fun, but at least let that pierced cock be used for good.”

I wanted to laugh, but I refrained, biting my lip to choke it down

Cal smiled despite the pain in his eyes “Can we go back to talking about your night? Did you get the answers you were after?”

My gut tightened. “It was just one night. Life is the same, Hunter Graves will still be the pain in the ass he’s always been.”

Cal nodded at me, but his eyes sparkled. “I will ignore the pain in the ass comment, just this once.”

I rolled my eyes and finished my breakfast wondering if I could ever forget the “Hockey Hottie.”

That was Cal’s idea. Not mine.

Chapter twelve

Tyler

November

The shrill ring of my phone through my Bluetooth headphones had my feet halting on the pavement, hunching over to catch my breath before touching my watch to accept the call.

“She won’t stop vomiting, Ty. What do I do?” It was Jamie, his panicked voice making him sound much younger than he actually was.

I wiped the sweat from my eyes. The phone line echoed with the sound of my own breath panting back at me.

“There are wafers in the cupboard over the exhaust fan. Get her one of those and some Hydrolyte, two sachets in a bottle of water. Make sure she sips slowly. A cold flannel on the back of her neck also helps. Then call Auntie and get her to come over and help.”

I heard a grunt and the telltale sound of a wooden chair being scraped across the tile floor. Then the old creak from the cupboard–the one I always had to spray with WD-40 to silence the old, rusted hinges.

Jamie didn’t talk, nor did he hang up as he banged around in the kitchen. His footsteps echoed down the hall, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of retching. My heart sank. Years of protecting my brother from this exact scenario had me instinctively pulling my phone from my pocket to text Auntie Kay.

“Ty said to give you these.”

“Baby, I am fine. Honestly, this will pass. You didn’t need to call your brother.”

I pinched my nose, the wave of emotions threatening to bubble up once more. Hold it together.

“Jamie?” Even with the distance, I could vividly picture his face. He was the one who struggled to express his emotions properly—that’s why he was put into martial arts. He needed an outlet for his energy because when Jamie was upset, God help anyone in his path.

The bathroom door shut, and I counted his steps until I knew he’d reached his room. The door slammed, followed by a muffled groan as he screamed into the pillow.

“I can’t do this, Ty. I can’t. She couldn’t even cook dinner last night. She fell asleep on the couch and when I tried to wake her, she was trembling so hard. I made toast because I didn’t know how to do anything else! I am not you. I can’t do this. I’m useless at caring for her.”

---