Page 22

Hayden

The car ride turns into a blur of pain and warmth.

My head pounds and my muscles scream every time the car hits a bump on the road. The tang of blood floods my mouth, leaving some of its sticky wetness around my lips and chin. I barely have any strength left to even lift my hand and wipe my mouth.

Despite my vulnerability, I feel safe.

Liam’s arm is tightly wrapped around me, anchoring me. Each time I drift toward unconsciousness, the steady pressure of his hand on my shoulder, the solid warmth of his body, pulls me back.

I’ve never known this kind of safety.

After my mom passed away, I spent most of my life bracing for the next hit, the next cruel reminder that I’ll never be enough, that I’ll always be a loser no matter how hard I trained and played.

Even those around me, kept me with them because I always did what they wanted me to do. No matter how hurt I was, no matter the pain, I always played like my life depended on scoring goals.

My teammates and coaches praised me for the things I did on the ice. Off it, they couldn’t care less about me.

Liam is different.

He doesn’t need to be here. He has every reason to walk away from me and yet, he’s holding onto me tightly.

Despite the pounding headache, I force my eyes open.

For a moment, I struggle, trying to focus on the darkness outside the car’s window. The city lights have faded, replaced by a vast stretch of black veil.

It takes me a second to realize we’re driving by the ocean.

We’re no longer in Knightswood.

“Liam, where are we going?” I mumble in a hoarse voice.

His hold on me tightens. “I’m taking you somewhere safe.”

Does Liam even know what he’s doing? I wonder, watching the dark sky.

But I’m too exhausted and too battered to care anymore. Choosing to simply trust Liam, I close my eyes and do my best not to black out.

Even though I tried to stay alert, I must’ve dozed off at some point.

When I open my eyes again, I realize the car has stopped. Liam speaks in muted tones and the next moment, I feel him and someone else hauling me out of the car.

I groan loudly as the pain in my muscles and joints flares up.

“Please be gentle,” Liam says but I know the instruction isn’t directed at me.

I hang onto Liam and the cab driver’s shoulders as they drag me through a familiar wrought-iron gate. The subtle scent of roses hangs in the salt-heavy air, triggering a moment of déjà vu in me.

I’ve been here before. This is the beach house Liam brought me to when we first met.

They guide me inside the dimly lit house and carefully lower me onto a couch. I bite back a groan as my body protests against the sudden movement. But the soft warmth of the couch feels good as I sink into it.

My battered body feels so comfortable, that I almost doze off again.

“We’re in your grandmother’s house,” I say, becoming aware that the driver is gone.

“Yeah,” Liam says in a quiet voice. “I couldn’t take you back to your dorms. What if your dad came back to find you?” He swallows, like the very thought of my father fills him with dread. “I didn’t want to take you back to the shithole I’m currently living in. Walking up those dirty stairs alone would’ve killed you.” A wry chuckle escapes him as he gazes at me. “So, I brought you to the next best place. No one knows about this beach house, so I can look after you without being troubled by anyone.”

I can’t believe what he’s saying to me. After kicking me out of his life, he’s treating me like our fight never happened.

“I’m going to remove your shoes and clothes,” Liam says in a grim tone. “Just bear with me, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, simply grateful that he’ll do those things for me.

Liam kneels before me and starts by taking off my shoes. He works quickly, unbuttoning my jeans next. I bite back groans as the tiniest shift of my legs makes my sore muscles protest.

Liam steps in between my legs and moves in closer to get my jacket and shirt off. His familiar scent wafts into my nostrils, soothing the pain in my body and heart.

I feel Liam’s hands skimming over my chest and abs, scanning the bruises on my skin. His expression is a mix of panic and focus as he studies each of them.

My breath hitches at the sight of him. He’s being so damn careful and so devastatingly gentle. He’s touching me like I’m a precious, fragile piece of crystal.

“Were you at the game tonight?” I ask him.

“Yeah,” he says, examining a long, dark bruise along my left side. “I saw what they did to you.”

“You should see the mess I made of the other guys,” I say, trying to smirk with my bruised lips.

Tearing his gaze away, he looks at me. He doesn’t chuckle or even roll his eyes. Instead, he lets out a sob as tears well up in his sapphire eyes.

I freeze at the sight of the pained expression on his beautiful face.

Liam sniffles, hastily rubbing his sleeve over his eyes but it’s too late. A tear slips down his cheek, landing softly on my hand.

An aching warmth spreads through my chest, choking me.

“Hey, I’m the one who got hurt,” I say in a hoarse, gentle voice as Liam blinks rapidly, struggling to keep himself together.

“I know I’m stupid!” he barks at me.

It hurts to move but I reach out and shuffle his soft, blond curls. “Hey, it’s okay,” I tell him. “I’ve taken worse hits in my career. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

Liam furiously brushes away his tears.

I want to soothe him but what can I say when the very sight of him is filling me with a hundred different emotions? No one has ever cared enough for me to cry for me.

People only liked me when I scored goals in the rink.

My coaches ignore my aching, tired muscles that come from training too hard. They choose to be blind to the bruises and injuries I take during games. They pretend not to see the exhaustion in my eyes and stay silent when I flinch and limp, still fighting to stay in the game.

Only Liam sees the agony I’m in. Hell, he’s probably even feeling it! He’s hurting because he can’t bear to see me in pain.

“I have some of Gram’s arthritis medicine in the house,” Liam says, breaking me out of my thoughts. “They can help with the soreness. For the rest, maybe I should take you to an emergency ward?”

A chuckle escapes me. “I haven’t broken anything,” I tell him, wishing he’d stop looking like I’m on my deathbed. “It’s just bruises and a couple of torn ligaments. They’ll heal with muscle relaxants and sprays. Just give me a week and I’ll be as good as new.”

Liam gets to his feet, chewing his bottom lip. “I’ll go check Gram’s medicine cabinet and see if we have any of those.”

Before he can take another step away, I grab his wrist. “I have everything I need in my gym bag. Just get me some water and I’ll be fine.”

“Shit! You haven’t hydrated since the game, have you?” A horrified look comes over him as he snatches his hand out of my grip and rushes out of the room.

I try to go after him but my aching muscles make me sink back into the couch. My breathing turns erratic as pain flares in my body. It looks like I’m going to need at least a week to fully recover from my injuries.

Liam hurries back into the room after a while. He looks worried as he hands me a glass of orange liquid. “I made you some orangeade,” he says, handing me the tumbler. “The sugar will help you feel better.”

“Thanks,” I say, eagerly accepting the glass from me. My throat was parched since the game but the impending meeting with my dad kept me from taking care of my after-game needs.

The cool, sugary drink feels incredibly good. It soothes my dry throat and brings a touch of relief.

“I’ll bring you some more of this stuff,” he says as I finish the drink within seconds. With that, he rushes out of the room again.

I look for my gym bag and find it at the foot of the couch. Loud grunts escape me as I pull it up beside me.

“Hayden, what are you doing?” Liam cries, hurrying over to me with a pitcher of the orange drink. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you.”

Does he have any idea how cute he’s being right now? Does he have any idea about the hunger he’s igniting deep in my heart? Despite my aching muscles, I can still capture him and devour him.

I exhale a long breath in a bid to calm the heat flooding my veins. “I was just getting my meds,” I tell him.

“I’ll do it for you,” he says, putting the pitcher on the coffee table before me. He pours me another serving of the bright orange beverage and hands me the glass.

While I sip it, he rummages inside my bag. “Is this it?” he asks, bringing out the medicine kit.

“Yep.”

He opens the case and brings out a bottle of pain relief spray, followed by strips of tablets. He reads the labels on them carefully before laying them out on the table.

“You must be starving right now,” he says, looking at me with an anxious look.

I nod. “We usually have a lot of food sent to us by sponsors,” I tell him. “But tonight, I didn’t have the time to eat or drink anything. I had to meet my dad and see what he wanted.” I try to hide my dark emotions but Liam sees through them.

“There’s just sugar and coffee in the house,” he says, looking worried. “I made sure to finish everything before moving to Knightswood. The supermarkets around here are already closed, so I can get us food only when they open in the morning.”

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I wrap my arm around his shoulders. “Hey, don’t worry about that,” I say in a gentle voice. “I’m in too much pain to feel hungry anyway.”

He turns to look at me. “I’m so sorry I can’t do anything to make you feel better,” he says, his lips trembling.

“You’re with me right now,” I say, holding his hand. “That’s all I need to feel better.”

He swallows and with a sudden move throws his arms around me, hugging me tightly.

A gasp escapes me but I don’t complain. It’s worth the pain to be held Liam again. Warmth bubbles in my heart, chasing away the dark clouds my dad left in his wake.

“Sorry,” he says in a cracked voice, loosening his hold on me. “I should let you take your meds.” Shifting away, he brings the strips of tablets closer to me.

“Can you help me apply some of that salve on the back of my shoulder?” I ask him.

He nods, picking up the jar immediately.

Over the next several minutes, Liam spreads salve nearly all over my body. After he’s done, I make him follow up with squirts of a special pain relief spray.

My skin burns from their effects but it also brings a touch of relief.

“Can you help me put my shirt back on?” I say with a groan.

“Sure.” Liam scoots closer to me.

He’s so close as he drops my T-shirt over my head that I can just kiss him. His warm breath fans over the stray strands on my forehead as he carefully puts my hands through the sleeves.

Liam is so focused on being gentle, that he remains oblivious to the hunger in my eyes. If he could only know how much I want to kiss him and claim him! My dick jerks to life despite the way my sore muscles throb.

“Are you okay?” Liam asks, noticing my strained expression.

“Yeah,” I mumble, pulling the rug over my lap to hide the growing lump at the front of my boxers.

“I want to take you upstairs but climbing those stairs would be painful,” he says, looking like he’s wracking his brains to figure out ways to comfort me. “How about I bring some pillows and blankets here and make you a temporary bed on the couch?”

“The couch is big enough,” I say, glancing all around me. “I don’t mind spending the night here.”

“I’ll be right back,” he says, walking out of the room.

While he’s gone, I clear the coffee table and put my medicine kit inside my gym bag. My stomach groans with hunger but I know if I said it aloud, Liam will go out of the house to look for food.

I don’t want him going anywhere this late at night. I’d rather starve in silence than risk his safety.

Liam comes back with a mountain of pillows and blankets. It’s almost comical to see him balancing the pile that’s taller than his head.

“You brought all that for me?” I say with an amused grin.

“I’m sleeping here too,” he says, dropping the cushions and blankets on another couch. “I’m staying close to you. If you need something in the middle of the night, I can help you.”

Surprise flickers through me. No one’s ever stayed behind to care for me. I’ve suffered through fevers but my dad never bothered doing anything other than telling me to take meds from the cabinet in the bathroom. The numerous injuries I sustained while playing hockey were all taken care of by either the school nurse or someone in the emergency ward.

No one’s ever personally made any effort to take care of me.

An intense emotion claws up my throat. I badly want to touch Liam and hold his warm body close to me. But my battered body refuses to move an inch, so I just watch him pushing a cushion under my legs.

A fierce need to protect him comes over me. I never want to see Liam hurt by me or someone else. I don’t know if I can ever gather the courage to come out to my teammates but I’ll make sure Liam never feels like he’s not important to me.

At this moment, I know I’d rather give up on playing hockey than let Liam walk away from me again. I don’t how or when I can, but someday, I’m going to give the world to Liam.

Because Liam has become my whole world.