Blissful Hook (Swift Hat-Trick Trilogy, #2)

by Hannah Cowan

Dedicated to anyone who’s ever felt like they don’t belong. Never give up. It will get better. Even when it feels like it never will.

“Get your sorry ass back here, Tyler. I’m not done talking to you.” The gruff slurs echo around the barren room as I walk away from him. “You haven't been able to tell me what to do since I was twelve, Allen. Stop trying.”

The same frightening chuckle I used to hear from behind my bedroom door years ago escapes him, sending vicious shivers up my spine.

Mom closes her eyes and inhales a deep breath through her nose and places a hand on a jutted hip bone. The dramatic action nearly makes me laugh in disbelief: Nora Bateman almost looks like a disappointed mother. What a goddamn sight to behold. It only took twenty-three years.

“Alright, Tyler. Whatever you want to do. You’ve never been one to listen.” Yeah, it’s almost like I had no one to teach me how. “Alright. I’ll talk to you later, then.”

She can enjoy the rest of her vacation drinking bottle after endless fucking bottle from the limitless bar until she crawls to River’s room, begging for the toilet bowl. When he flounders at the task of having to take care of his alcoholic mother for once in his life, maybe, just maybe, she’ll realize I’m the one that takes care of her, and that she’s been taking me for granted.

Euphoria: A feeling you get from a good fuck, or from stepping off of an airplane after spending almost an entire day strapped into a seat so tiny only your left ass cheek fits.

This morning, I showed up at the arena hours before practice was supposed to start. Usually, the arena is empty, but a deep, thundering voice echoes down the hallway as the Vancouver Warrior’s new hopeful star player, and my best friend, rips into whoever was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that call.

”You’re way too young to be doing this, Gracie!” ”I’m old enough for you to talk to me like an adult, Oakley!” I stop dead in my tracks as the familiar female voice screams back at him, probably unknown to the fact that the call is on speakerphone. ”You want me to talk to you like an adult? That’s rich considering you still act like you’re sixteen! What would Mom think?” ”Don’t bring up Mom right now. And stop trying to micromanage me! You’re not my dad.”

Guilt paints my insides. I can’t say who Gracie does and doesn’t sleep with is a topic I want brought up either. Not when I spent a week last year inside of her, hearing her cry my name and learning the different ways to make her soak her panties.

When she finally opens her mouth to speak, someone bumps her, sending her stumbling back a few steps. As soon as I see a just as slight, but more confident, golden-haired, spitfire, my breathing falters.

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the sheen of sweat on my skin. I find this weird because I've always been someone who has to keep their bedroom window cracked wide open year-round, no matter how cold it is outside. It's just utterly impossible for me to sleep unless I feel like I've spent the past year living in an icebox, meds or not.

Groaning, I let my head fall back. I know Adam won't judge me for what happened last night. He's not that kind of guy. But he's also even closer to Oakley than I am. I just know that he's going to be disappointed. And fuck, it sucks when Adam is disappointed in you.

stomach drops when I realize it’s completely empty, with not even a single pancake or drop of coffee waiting for me. I put my hands on my hips and straighten my back. So this is how it's going to be, eh? Tyler Bateman, you are in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Apartment # 313, floor 10. You’re already on the list of people allowed up. Just tell the receptionist your name. Think before you speak this time Tyler, or I’ll kick your sorry ass all the way back to Greece.

“Expecting company, Jessica?” I ask, cocking a brow. “That depends on who you’re here for,” she flirts, as if her best friend isn’t just down the hall. She puts a hand on her hip. “If you want another round, you only have to ask.”

Bending down, I whisper, “I would rather rip my fingernails off one by one with a rusty pair of pliers than spend another night with you.” We’re so close I can feel her flinch.

“You do not know what I need. And you do not get to decide what I’ll think without even talking to me. You left me in your bed alone, Tyler, like I was some twenty-dollar fuck you picked up on the corner,” she growls, her eyes wide and dark. “Never say that about yourself again,” I growl, taking a step toward her. “You have no idea how wrong you are.” Her words have triggered horrible images—memories—almost as if she had just switched the light switch on in a haunted basement. They run through my head, painting my vision with a thick crimson red.

“What are you doing?” I murmur, my words barely audible. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Her words roll over my body before fading into nothing. Slowly, she presses her cheek against my chest. Her steady breaths brush against my shirt, soaking through it and hitting my skin with an open, unspoken promise. “I know.”

Vulnerability isn't something that comes naturally to me. When you're raised the way I was, you learn that feelings aren't something that you should share. Instead, they should be locked away and forgotten in a place where nobody can find them.

“Well, are you going to come say hello to the fat pregnant lady or not?” Morgan quips, her sass level at an all-time high. I still don't know how Matt has handled her this long. God knows I wouldn't be able to. I can barely handle an hour alone with her on a good day.

As Ava catches on to what's happening, surprise takes over her features. Wide, shiny, emerald-green eyes stare back at Oakley as he slowly gets down on one knee. Gasps break through the room as the other two girls watch the heartwarming sight in front of us and my own proud smile grows. When a small hand wraps around my much larger one, my breath catches in my throat. I fight to keep my eyes trained in front of me and silently pray that this dangerously stupid move remains unseen.

“Have you worn this in public before?” I grit through clenched teeth. Jealousy burns in my veins, forcing images into my head that I don’t want to see. Looking down at her shirt, she plays with the hem before looking back up at me again with a widespread smirk. “Oh, this? I usually only wear it when I'm looking to get laid. The guys usually can't keep their eyes off—” I slam my lips against hers before she can finish the rest of her sentence, knocking her back into the wall as she gasps in shock.

Another knock on the door sounds and she pushes me back forcefully, eyeing the small spare room. “Where's your shirt? I can't find it!” My heart drops when I don’t see it either.

“Who has a fuck buddy?” My head snaps up, and my blood runs cold as I stare wide-eyed at the other two. Gracie's mouth falls open, and her hands shake at her sides. Our worst nightmare is about to become an even nastier reality. Gracie turns to me, motioning toward the walk-in closet beside the bed as Adam tries to cover for us. “Oh, uh, just some buddy of mine.”

“Don't flip this on me. I've spent years trying to ignore the way you look at him but I'm done. You two would only end badly,” Oakley states smugly. “And that's your decision to make?” she questions. “It is when I'm the only one with common sense! I know Tyler better than anyone, and any relationship you could have with him wouldn't last outside of the bedroom.”

Oakley's fist winds back again, but Adam moves to pull him off me before he can hit me again. His weight is lifted from my chest and my lungs fill up like empty balloons. “You can have him then, Gracie.” Oakley turns to me. His lips are twitching but remain in a tight line. “Because I want nothing to do with him anymore.”

Gracie kneels down in front of me and I throw an arm over my eyes as she asks where it hurts. I can't find it in me to reply so I just continue to lay here, dead to the world. The pain shooting through my cheek is nothing compared to how I feel after hurting Oakley and destroying one of the most important friendships that I have ever had.

What the fuck am I supposed to do now? My best friend hates me. My other ones are probably right there with him, and I've muddled lines I swore I would keep crystal clear.

Jess and I link arms as we make our way through the bar. As we turn the corner, my eyes fall on Oakley's broad back. He's standing in between Matt and Adam, one hand resting on Adam's shoulder while the other leans against the bar top.

Adam and I pull apart. I turn to face Oakley, my eyes filled with hope. “Hi, Lee,” I murmur. I hate fighting with him. He's my best friend. Oakley brushes me off like a fly buzzing in his face. His attention doesn't even fall on me for a brief second as he moves toward the bartender and orders himself another drink.

She’s standing tall with her hands placed firmly on her hips, barking harsh words at the girl standing in front of her, replicating her stance. It takes me a few seconds before I realize that the girl in front of her—wide, square-framed glasses and all—is none other than Beth Winston, stalker-extraordinaire.

I’m as surprised to see her as much as the next guy, but as I watch her take another step toward Gracie with a spine-chilling sneer, I know that I won’t be able to sit back and watch whatever’s going to happen next. Gracie’s head smacks against the brick wall behind her and she lets out a gasp of pain, falling back against the wall.

The hand yanks on my bicep, sending me faltering back as I look down at the familiar, tattooed forearm. “Let go over me, Oakley. I won’t ask again,” I hiss. He ignores my comment with a shake of his head, but lets go of my arm. “She can take her. Trust me.” “She's hurt.” “I know. If Beth wasn't a girl, you know I would be out there beating the life out of the sorry fucker. But Gracie won’t want us to interfere. Not with this one.”

Gracie’s lips move slowly as she takes another brave step toward her opponent, face set in stone. Then, she finally snaps. Her arm shoots out. Gracie’s clenched hand flies toward Beth, hitting her smack on the bridge of her nose. Beth reels back, and her eyes go wide. An animalistic scream rips through the air. My jaw goes slack. That’s my fucking girl.

“Let me in,” she murmurs quietly, inching closer to me. The seconds flick away slowly around us. “You wouldn't like what you would see.”

“I was with someone else when the only person I've ever really wanted was you.”

“Look, Tyler. If you want to date my sister, all I ask is that you don't hurt her. Or lie to me again.” He sighs and leans against the tree standing to the side of us. “That wasn't cool, man.” “You have nothing to worry about. There is no Gracie and I. Okay?”

The weeks after finding out that our dad would never come home again were spent planning a funeral and sitting back, watching as Oakley tended to our mother the way she used to tend to us. No kid should have to grow up as fast as Oakley did. One day he was a happy-go-lucky thirteen-year-old boy, then the next, he was a serious, grown-ass man taking care of his family. It was unfair, really.

But now . . . now I'm not so sure I even remember what being a strong woman feels like. I have let myself slip into an inescapable hole of desperation— a hole filled with nothing but an obsession for the only person who's ever made me feel pure bliss and agonizing heartbreak at the same time. I know love isn't easy, but is it supposed to be this hard?

“I'll get two scoops o—” I begin. “Two vanilla cones please,” Cody says pointedly, cutting me off, ordering not only for himself but for me as well. Oh, I don't think so. “Just one vanilla cone, actually. I'll have two scoops of bubblegum.” I smile at the girl, ignoring Cody and stand off to the side. Mister Pushy can pick up the bill.

I don’t know what caused the sudden urge, but I wanted to slip one of my t-shirts over her toned stomach and carry her away to my room more than I wanted air to breathe.

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.

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.

“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.

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.

“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.

“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.

She's the first to pull back what feels like hours later. “Are you going to pass out on me, Ty?” I grin sleepily before simply taking her hand in mine. I lead her out of the kitchen toward my bedroom.

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.”