Page 76 of One More Time

I chuckled. “Sloshed?”

Tyler shot me a smirk over his shoulder. “Uhm, you know, drunk, hammered, smashed?”

“You have the weirdest sayings.”

He playfully pointed the spatula at me, wearing his favorite fake frown that I found adorable. “Don’t get me started on American slang.”

I raised my hands in surrender. “Alright, baby.”

He hummed, his gaze flickering to my lips before he peered over my shoulder to make sure his brother was still engrossed in the book he was reading.

I inched closer, trailing my fingers over Tyler’s firm ass in his sweats. A muffled moan escaped him as he shuffled on the spot, doing little to appease my growing desire.

“What are you doing to me?” he whispered. I bit my lip to suppress a happy chuckle. I glanced at Jamie—who was either oblivious or intentionally ignoring us—then edged even closer, blowing a breath across the back of his neck. He leaned back into me, his head finding a resting place on my shoulder.

“Miss me, baby?” I murmured, evoking a whimper from him. It had been over a week since we last had sex, and it seemed the craving was mutual. I wrapped my arms around him, grazing my lips over his neck. He carried a scent of earth and oceans, a combination that never failed to clear my lungs. We stayed like that while he continued to cook, his body enveloped by mine. I only looked up with the distant notes of music playing in the background.

Jamie stood by a record player, seemingly unfazed by our canoodling. “Mum loved records,” he simply stated, returning to his book without another word.

I sensed Tyler’s uneven breaths and held him tighter. I felt him move against me, and as we began to sway over the simmering dinner, I rested my chin on his shoulder, choosing not to acknowledge the wet tears that landed on my arms. “Mum and Dad always did this,” he explained. “Dad was the cook, so Mum would put a record on and hug him from behind. They would sway to the music as he cooked.”

He didn’t have to tell me that it was something he always wanted for himself. I kissed his neck, letting him know without words that as long as I was around, he’d have it—even if I did have two left feet. I would die to give him anything he wanted.

We stayed that way for a couple of songs until he turned off the stove and began to dish up the plates.

We ate in a circle on the floor. Tyler explained that it was his dad’s favorite meal, and I watched as Jamie closed his eyes with the memories that came with the flavors on his tongue. Eventually, we sat in silence, watching hockey on mute as my mind swirled with memories of the day. Jamie eventually dozed off, snoring softly from the bed while Tyler rested his head on my shoulder. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of him nuzzling into my neck. I couldn’t even find the energy to mock him for taking in a deep breath to inhale my scent—because I did the same thing to him any chance I could get.

We stayed like that for so long that my ass began to hurt. I pulled away, only for him to lay me down on the hardwood floor. His weight had the same effect I’d imagined from those overpriced weighted blankets. Tyler’s breath was like the soft, summer breeze off the coast of the Hamptons, sweeping away a lifetime’s worth of anxiety.

We didn’t talk. It was almost like there was too much to unpack. Instead, we chose to sit in comfortable silence.

My lip twitched every time Tyler grunted or let out an annoying huff at the game, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus on it. I found peace in my fingers going through his still hair, the strands turning more auburn as it grew. The golden hues sparkled in the lamplight as it fell from my fingertips.

There were many moments the word love popped into my mind when it came to Tyler Riley, many moments where I tried to deny the fact that I was falling for him.

But it was all in vain. And it was such a bittersweet feeling.

Because come summer, I would be gone.

Chapter forty-three

Hunter

Isat in my driver’s car, engrossed in the videos Cal sent me while fighting off the surge of longing that passed through my veins. I wanted nothing more than to be there with Tyler, Cal, and Jamie, sharing in the warmth of their holiday festivities. My gaze shifted to the brownstone home I’d grown up in, and my stomach churned.

I weighed my options. How bad could it possibly be if I left now? How long could I resist the urge to witness Jamie and Tyler unwrap their presents in person? I decided to bide my time and catch a glimpse of the joyous moment.

I’d recruited Cal weeks ago to capture the gift opening. “We should wait for him to get back,” Tyler suggested. Despite being in their dorm room, Cal had transformed the space into a place Santa Claus himself would be proud of, determined to infuse the holiday spirit into their lives. Both Tyler and Jamie were adjusting to an American Christmas already and though they were more inclined toward a quiet celebration, Cal wasn’t having that.

“Nope, he wants you to open them now,” Cal insisted, unwavering in his commitment to creating a spirited Christmas for his friends. The air buzzed with anticipation, and I couldn’t help but share in the excitement, even from the confines of the car. Cal eagerly shoved the presents in their faces, and I watched the video anxiously as Tyler and Jamie began tearing at the wrapping paper.

Jamie went first and though it was a challenge to find something for a fourteen-year-old boy, I did my research. I discovered special editions of their mom’s books, signed and unique. Alongside them, I included purchased photos from the ice rink. Before the books, a framed picture caught Jamie’s attention: a moment frozen in time with Tyler’s hand on his shoulder, both looking up at the lights in awe. Jamie studied the image, biting his quivering lip, then moved on to the books. As he opened them, his fingers traced the edges, discovering his mom’s cherished signature. I glanced at Tyler, hoping the stunned expression on his face was a good one.

With tear-filled eyes, Jamie urged Tyler to open his gifts. Tyler unwrapped a hockey stick signed by his favorite player and a smaller package containing a leather bracelet with a gemstone orb. Tyler brought it to his eye, revealing a picture of us kissing at the ice rink. It was a silent declaration, a way to show him that even if we couldn’t make our relationship public, we were bound together forever. The video cut off as Tyler looked at the gift thoughtfully, leaving me yearning to be there, to ask him if he liked it, to share in the joy of the moment. I could imagine what he would say.

“That was too much, Boston. But thank you.”

Aussie Baby: Fuck you for making me open this without you here. Not fair when I can’t show you how much it means to me. Hurry up and come home.

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