Page 54 of One More Time

We quickly got dressed and as I attempted to tame Tyler’s unruly hair, I couldn’t help but wonder how much he cared about his brother’s perception. Tyler caught my hand, rolling his eyes, “She’ll be right, I need a shower anyways.”

In the living room, a subtle, suspicious exchange of glances passed between Jamie and Cal. Tyler held my hand as we settled on the couch, where he wrinkled his nose at the pizza on the table.

“Told you!” Jamie laughed, pointing his slice at Cal. Perplexed, I scanned the room, trying to determine what was going on.

Calinterrupted my thoughts, “Fine, you were right. I also bought chicken and salad, it’s in the fridge. Jamie told me you wouldn’t eat the pizza but I thought you would want some comfort food.”

“If you think I am dropping the ball on my meal plans now, you’re horribly mistaken,” Tyler declared, rising to retrieve his preferred meal.

Jamie seemed to read my confusion and chimed in. “He never ever breaks his meal plan during hockey season.”

“That’s not true! I drank alcohol!” Tyler defended himself.

“Baby, you drank alcohol twice,” I said. “And I would bet that you went on extra runs to burn the calories, am I right?” Even with that knowledge, Tyler’s commitment to the sport went beyond what I initially grasped. He was the lone figure on the team who was strict about his meals during team dinners, and aside from those two parties, I couldn’t recall a moment when he deviated from his pursuit of perfection.

Cal chuckled. “Oh, your baby definitely did.”

Tyler lightly smacked Cal over the back of the head, which I knew was more for the baby comment than anything else. The room filled with laughter, a mixture of camaraderie and revelations about the meticulous planning behind Tyler’s seemingly flawless game plan.

I didn’t think much of calling him the pet name, but it hit me that he may not like me calling him that in front of others.

“It is scientifically proven that the right intake of food, will keep an athlete on the top of their game,” he explained. “I don’t need anything weighing me down. If the pro’s do it, so will I.”

“Baby, the pros still eat pizza.”

He gave me that adorable eye roll that told me though I may be right, he wouldn’t be listening to me.

Right then and there I made it my mission to eventually get my Aussie to have some American pizza.

I never really felt like I had a proper family. Kinsley was the closest thing, but sitting there on Tyler’s living room floor with him sandwiched between my legs, our fingers twisted together from the arm I had over his shoulders- was the closest thing to a family I ever had. Cal was spinning his wild stories, and Jamie, now comfortably in his bed, was cracking up at Cal’s crazy tales of failed romances and wild skate partners.

I sometimes got a bit jealous thinking about Cal being a big part of Tyler’s life but in moments like these, I was glad Tyler had a friend who could distract him from all the pain. My eyes kept drifting to the brothers, especially the way Tyler watched Jamie. Every time Jamie laughed, Tyler squeezed my hand, like he couldn’t get enough of that sound.

Simply holding Tyler like that, in such a casual way, meant a lot to me. Silently, I began to plot in my head. I wasn’t sure how I’d keep it going, but I wanted it to.

I woke to the blaring of my phone, my Aussie clinging to me like a koala. I let my arm fall to find the offending piece of technology and with it in my hand, I looked down. Reality smacked me in the face with the image of my dad’s name was lit up on the screen.

As if he could sense the change in my demeanor, Tyler lifted his head, and despite the cuteness of the small crease between his brows, it did nothing to settle me. I leaned to kiss his hair.

“My dad—I have to take it. I don’t know how long I will be so, I’ll see you later?” The two lines between his brow didn’t leave as he watched me change and head for his door. “If you need anything, please call, okay?”

“Um, sure.” Tyler said, his confusion evident, and it broke me that I couldn’t stop to explain.

I stepped into the quiet hallway, grateful for the early hour that kept the place barren.

“Yeah?” I answered the phone, the nerves already settling in.

“Is that how you answer the phone to your father?” Even his tone made me flinch.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Mmhmm, remember that I helped your little friend. Don’t think I can’t take that away with one simple phone call.”

A chill ran down my spine. The memories of that night flooded back. Kinsley’s mom was confined to a nursing home as a result, trapped in her own body. Every visit echoed with the haunting thought that it could have been my best friend lying in that bed. The fear of that man seeking revenge on his daughter for putting him in prison lingered heavily in my mind.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I muttered, grappling with the weight of those memories.

I heard a noncommittal grunt before he steered the conversation to the reason for his call. “I need you home for a couple of evenings. Bring your best suit and your best behavior. No repeats of last year.”

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