45. Hunter

Ididn't really want to be sitting in that ER—and neither did Tyler. But that didn't stop him from sticking by my side the entire time. I could only imagine what this was like for him. He held my hand every second he could and if he was struggling, it didn't show. Other than worrying his bottom lip as they checked me out, he was my rock. I was cleared with nothing more than a minor concussion and a few cracked ribs. I got stitches just above my brow yet again, which had been sewn up too many times in my lifetime. After I gave a few reports, I was finally released.

Tyler visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief as we stepped through the sliding glass doors. Snow fell around us and we'd barely cleared the threshold before I stood from the stupid, mandatory wheelchair and closed in on Tyler. I pulled his chin up so he would look at me, his turquoise eyes glistening with tears.

"Baby…"

"You fucking scared the shit out of me, Boston." The waver in his voice was like a knife to my heart. Despite how every move sent ripples of pain through my body, I held him close. He fisted my blood-soaked shirt tight, careful not to put his full weight on me. It would have been so easy to say how I felt right then and there. But I didn't—we'd been through too much that day and my brain hadn't had a chance to catch up.

"Lets go home," I said as I saw Jarman waiting patiently. We both got in the backseat and I clicked myself in the middle, resting my head on Tyler's shoulder. Somewhere between the methodical movement of his fingers in my hair and the slow hum of the engine, I fell asleep.

My Aussie woke me up with a gentle kiss on my forehead when we got to the dorm. I leaned over the middle console and patted Jarman on the shoulder. I hadn't gotten a glimpse of myself, but Jarman's sympathetic eyes had me believing I looked like utter shit—which wasn't far off from how I felt. The cold air hit my body in all the wrong places, my aching muscles tensing in protest to the frigid air. I bit back a groan as the pain flushed through my body in a wave that was enough to warm me up from the cold. Tyler didn't miss a beat, throwing my arm over his shoulder and helping me into the small two-bedroom apartment that had become more of a home than my million-dollar mansion.

Once we were in Tyler's dorm, I stood back as he checked on Jamie and tucked him in a little tighter before guiding me to the bathroom. Both of us too exhausted to speak, Tyler stripped me to my underwear and began running a cloth under warm water.

He gently brought the warm cloth to my bare skin, attempting to wipe away the evidence of the night. I watched as he took care of me, sparkling eyes taking in every mark and wiping the excess blood and iodine. I noticed the bruise blooming on his cheek and my blood began to boil. I kissed the mark, like my love could heal what my father did to him.

He turned his head just for a moment, resting his temple against mine, and breathing me in. I had no doubt I didn't smell great but if it bothered him, he didn't say. I watched as he found strength in himself to pull away, and then he left. I stood there wondering if that was it, if I was supposed to find him, or stay put and wait for him to return.

His quiet footfalls heading back in my direction somehow made me smile because my baby had grace even without the ice around him. He came in holding a chair, which he placed in front of the sink. "Sit," he commanded.

So, I did.

He softly guided me without his words, angling me so my head tilted over the basin. It was awkward at first, his body towering over me as he turned on the tap to warm water. The moment it hit my scalp, I let out a weighted sigh.

With the warm water running through the strands of my hair, I felt the night wash away.

With Tyler's fingers stroking through the strands, I felt him wash the past away.

With his fingers massaging the shampoo, I felt him building me back up, giving me strength with his fingertips.

As he began to wash out the soap, he swung his leg over my lap, sitting on my splayed-out legs. Soft kisses found my jaw, my Adam's apple and finally, my lips.

As he completed my hair, peppering kisses in between conditioning and its final rinse, I felt him love me. Tears fell without permission as my body absorbed everything that he was. Though I had cared for people and even loved before, I had never had a love like that. Never felt someone give over themselves like Tyler Riley gave himself to me.

As I sat on the chair with nothing but my briefs, Tyler's body seemed to tower over me in his Perth Hockey hoodie. Tears began to fall. It felt like Tyler was the one being vulnerable, showing me exactly how he felt, with every little touch. He might as well have been standing there stark-naked spilling his every emotion to me—telling me that he loved me.

That was the love that people wrote about, the love that lasted forever, through every fucked-up life hurdle. Tyler Riley would forever be the man I loved. Him and only him.

And he made me believe that I was that for him too.