Blissful Hook (Swift Hat-Trick Trilogy Book 2)
Blissful Hook: Chapter 5

Believe me when I say I have had my fair share of regretful mornings. The ones where you crawl out of a stranger’s bed with your hair sticking up every which way and your mascara smudged all over your face as you collect your clothes and scurry away as fast as possible. It’s in those very awkward, shameful moments that you rethink your entire existence.

You ask yourself questions like: How did I end up here? I didn’t let him put it in my butt, right? You wonder why you didn’t just stay at home in bed smothering yourself in fuzzy blankets while shovelling an entire pizza down your throat.

Now, even I can admit that not every mind-boggling night out turns out bad. I’ve had my fair share of good mornings too. The mornings where you still wake up in a stranger’s bed, but instead of running away, you stay in bed next to them, talking for hours until it’s time to grab your shit and leave without uttering another word to them. Unfortunately for me, though, today I woke up to the former rather than the latter. The morning of regret. Yet somehow, it is even worse this time.

The first thing I notice as the grogginess fades is the faint, familiar smell of Tyler’s cologne. I’ve never been able to pinpoint what exactly it smells like, just that it smells like him. Spiced with a slight splash of something forbidden.

A grin playing on my lips, I wrap a hand around the silky comforter covering my t-shirt clad body and pull it up over my face. A squeal rips through the silence and I throw a hand over my mouth, stifling the sound before he can hear me. Deciding that he has probably already heard my embarrassing squeal, I gradually lower the blanket until it rests just under my chin and dart my eyes over to the spot beside me. When I see nothing but black sheets, I sit up quickly, a chill sweeping over me.

He better be cooking me breakfast right now.

Huffing, I narrow my eyes and throw the blankets off before touching my bare feet to the carpet. A dull throb in between my legs shakes through me as I groan in pain. Shit, that hurts.

When I can finally stand, I run a hand through my hair and tense my jaw as I realize it is far beyond help. How long have I been asleep, anyway? From the obnoxiously bright light streaming through the small window, my guess is way too long.

Shit, Jess is probably freaking out. Leave it to me to abandon my best friend in a brand-new bar for a guy. Maybe the fact that the guy was Tyler will lessen the severe telling off to a mild talking to. One can hope at least.

 ’Tyler?’ I call out as I open the bedroom door and peek my head out at the practically bare, cold apartment he calls home. He could definitely use a girl’s help to spruce the place up a bit and make it less. . . frat like.

 When I get no response, I push the door open and step out. Not seeing him in the living room or the bathroom, I head to the kitchen. My stomach drops when I realize it’s completely empty, not even a single pancake 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.

After spending half an hour scouring the entire place for my cell phone, I finally found it squished between two couch cushions. And no, I really don’t know how it got there.

Calling Jess was an experience to say the least. At first, she screamed in my ear, nearly shattering my entire eardrum—and my phone. But after hearing my explanation, we screamed together. Well, we did until I remember that I am in an empty apartment building. Thankfully, she also agreed to come pick me up.

I take full advantage of the fact that Tyler isn’t here to bitch at me for using his shower and eagerly skip into his bathroom. The tap lets out a sinister screech as I turn the water on and remove his t-shirt, laying it gently on the closed toilet lid.

When I look in the mirror above the sink, I feel my cheeks flush. Apparently, the glow you get after having mind-blowing sex is a real thing. I mean, there’s literally no other way to describe the lively gleam in my eyes or the special twinkle in my smile right now.

My hair, on the other hand, is even worse than I was expecting. It looks like I just spent the past few hours doing the Kylie Jenner lip challenge. Spinning around, I hop into the tiled shower and let my shoulders drop as the hot water pours over my skin. The water pressure massages my scalp as I look for the closest available shampoo.

Of course. A two in one—a girl’s worst nightmare. Would it kill one freaking guy to want to have silky hair and use a conditioner? Ugh.

I dump the dreadful substance in the palm of my hand and coat my tangled strands of blonde hair in it. Once my hair is washed and my body is scrubbed, I put on a pair of basketball shorts I found in one of Tyler’s drawers and the same shirt from before. I shove my clothes from last night into a grocery bag and wait for Jess outside.

Ten minutes later, I’m in the passenger seat of her new Chevy Corolla, listening to a new pop album.

‘So,’ Jess drawls, eyes darting between me and the road in front of her. The wind blowing around the beige interior of the car is causing her onyx-coloured hair to bite her round cheeks, and I giggle as she attempts to blow it out of her face and roll up her window.

‘So?’ I muse. My arm rests against the window frame, and I stare at the lush green trees that fly past us. It really is beautiful here in the summer. Everything is so green, way greener than in Penticton.

‘What are you going to do now?’

We turn down the road leading to our apartment, and with a click of my tongue, I smirk.

‘If I told you, I would have to kill you.’

She scoffs and rolls her dark blue eyes. ‘Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t know. You can go a bit bat shit.’

Shoving her shoulder, I laugh and nod my head in agreement. She’s not exactly wrong.

Never in a million years did I expect to be living somewhere as fancy as this. Growing up with barely enough to survive off of, to suddenly living in a downtown Vancouver apartment complex with an infinity pool and a giant gym is a lot to adjust to. Not that I’m complaining.

When I had first talked to my older brother, Oakley, about moving to Vancouver, it didn’t shock me in the slightest when he was completely against the idea. Nor was I surprised when the only way he would agree to it was if he got to pick where I lived in Vancouver. He’s always been far too protective over me, but I could never blame him for that.

What did surprise me, though, was him offering to pay for the place he chose. But I guess being Mr. Money-Bags now, he has the money to spend. Either that or his girlfriend, Ava, made him pay for it.

‘Hey, Cody,’ I say to our neighbour and give him a warm smile as we exit the elevator. His pale cheeks flush as he returns it and ducks into his apartment, pushing the door shut quickly behind him.

‘It’s hilarious how into you he is. Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance,’ Jess chuckles from beside me.

Giving my head a small shake, I follow her into the bright open space we call home. The summer sun beams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, outlining the entirety of our open-concept apartment. A smile twitches at the corners of my mouth. It’s a gorgeous view.

I set my purse down on the entryway table and kick off the tennis shoes that Jess brought me. The last thing I needed was to be seen wearing shorts sagging from my hips and heels as I waddled my way home in shame.

‘He’s just friendly, Jess. Give him a break.’ I grab a glass from one of the sleek white cabinets in the kitchen and fill it with some water.

‘The guy can barely make it through an entire sentence without stuttering when you talk to him, Gray. You’re too naïve when it comes to anyone but Tyler,’ Jess informs me. I glare at her as she flops down onto the grey leather couch, and flicks on the T.V.

‘Am not!’ I say defensively. Grabbing my glass, I join her as the intro to How To Get Away With Murder plays through the speakers intalled around the room.

She raises a judgmental eyebrow at me, placing her feet on my lap and focusing all her attention on the beautiful cast in front of us.

“Whatever you say,” she replies dismissively, letting me know through her suddenly cold tone that she’s more than done with this conversation, putting an end to it immediately. It is one of her most infuriating characteristics. It’s also her usual response to any Tyler related conversations. I brush off the annoying pinch in my gut and pretend like I don’t notice her attitude.

Like I always do.