Page 11 of The Love Dare
“I know what those idiots at your school say, but I’m not one of them. I wouldn’t have asked you to make this for me if I didn’t want it. And it means something to me, even if it’s nothing to you. It means a lot, okay?”
“Okay.”
She doesn’t trust herself to say more. He looks at her for another moment, as if trying to decipher a language he doesn’t understand, before he leaves.
When he gets a hat trick in his next game, he declares the token his good-luck charm. Alex rolls his eyes. Winnie’s heartsecretly sings. Every time something good happens for the next few months, Tyler gives his wrist a little shake. The day the clasp snaps, he gets a broken nose at practice and nearly misses a playoff game. Alex storms into Winnie’s room with his bandaged friend in tow.
“Can you fix this stupid thing? I don’t for one second think it possesses some mysterious superpower, but he does. And I want to win one more championship before college. So, just, figure it out. Will you?”
Winnie gets it to Tyler before their next game. They win, and keep winning, until her father eventually secures another massive trophy for the case. The next day, Tyler shows up at their house for dinner with gauze around his wrist.
“What’s that?”
He glances down at his arm with a secretive twinkle. “My new tattoo.”
“Is that…” She can’t even finish the sentence as her pulse races.
“I can’t risk losing it again,” he answers with a shrug, so cool, so casual, as if it’s no big deal. But Winnie just stands there, dumbstruck, as her heart launches into the stratosphere.
CHAPTER FOUR
tyler
7 YEARS BEFORE FILMING
Steppinginto the Rusu house for the first time in three months feels more like coming home than anything else he’s done since waving goodbye to Alex at the airport four hours earlier. He told himself he wouldn’t come tonight. He told himself he was done pining after Winnie like an asshole. His time at the University of Denver was supposed to cure him of that. But then he got home to a quiet trailer. He found a stash of unpaid bills in the drawer and a trash can full of needles, letting him know exactly where the money he sent home was going. The kitchen smelled worse than the Tau Zeta basement at four o’clock in the morning. And his mother was nowhere to be found. He’d told her he was coming home for Thanksgiving at least a dozen times. He sent her his flights. He reiterated again and again that it’d be a quick trip, not even forty-eight hours because he had a game on Friday. None of it mattered. She was either out with some guy, or out looking for her next fix, and he needed out too. So he went to the one place where he knew he’d find that little bit of solace he’d been looking for—the big white mansion in which he against-all-odds belonged.
I forgot about the stupid party.
Tyler groans.
Alexandru and Yetta are at the same charity dinner they host every year on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. It always lasts for hours, and his best friend always takes advantage. So it should be no surprise that Alex is using their one night home to drink his ass off, say hi to his old friends, and hook up with one of the many girls from his former high school class lining up to get a chance at him.
A good friend would have remembered.
Maybe Tyler does.
But that will mean admitting to himself that there is one reason and one reason alone why he allowed Alex to talk him into a trip back to Dallas in the middle of their season—and that reason is undoubtedly hiding upstairs.
“T-man!” Alex shouts the second Tyler skulks through the door, words already slurring. “You came!”
He grunts a reply as his friend’s familiar arm lands across his shoulder. It’s not the drinking that annoys him. He would never push his own sober lifestyle on anyone else. He doesn’t give a shit if Alex wants to party like a madman every day of the week like half their freshman class, as long as it’s during the offseason. But they have a game on Friday. And while Tyler was drafted by Dallas over the summer, Alex still needs to earn his spot. The dream isn’t to play professional hockey alone. It’s to have his best friend by his side, and the whiskey on Alex’s breath isn’t helping.
“Alex—”
“I know, I know.” Alex squeezes his shoulder. “I got lost in the vibes, but I’m cutting myself off after this. I’ll be ready for Michigan on Friday. I promise.”
Yeah. Right.Tyler rolls his eyes.
Alex laughs, able to read his mind. “See? This is why I love you, man. You keep my eyes on the prize.”
“I thought it was my witty banter.”
“Nah.” Alex snorts. “That’s whyyouloveme.”
“Oh, is it?”
“Yeah, and because I help pull that stick out of your ass.” He slaps said ass as hard as he can and then cackles like a maniac at Tyler’s resulting scowl. “Go get some food. You look tense. I picked up tacos. No one can be mad when tacos are involved. Just saying it makes me happy. TA-cos. Ta-COS. Tacos!”
