here's about a second delay as I process his text. Something tells me this isn't just an I miss you, and I'm already thinking the worst. I try to stay calm as I send a message back asking if he's okay, but there's no answer.

I spend the next ten minutes pacing my room. That's when a message from Alex comes through to tell me they're at the hospital. I leap into action, pulling on my riding gear before heading downstairs. I tiptoe down the corridor, careful not to wake my dad, who has since returned to his room, and let the front door click behind me.

The whole ride to the hospital, I'm nervous. Alex hadn't mentioned what they were at the hospital for, but between that and Tyler texting me out the blue, it can't be good. When I finally pull up, I park my bike and stare up at the hospital, heart pounding away. It's been over a year since Dad had his accident, but this building has the power to make me relive it all over again.

Still, I suck in a breath and find my way to the waiting room, where Alex is leaning against the wall with a coffee, vacantly staring at her hands.

"Hey," I say, and I rest a hand on her shoulder as she turns to look at me in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she asks. "You didn't have to come."

"I know," I say, "but I wanted to make sure you were all right. What happened?"

Her lip quivers, but she skilfully hides it behind her cup. "My dad had a heart attack. They said he's going to be fine, but they're keeping him in to run some tests. Tyler's the one who found him. He's taking it...not well."

My heart thumps harder as I scan the room. "Where is he?"

"He walked off after the doctor spoke to us," she says. "I have no idea where he went, but I don't want to leave my dad right now." Her eyes meet mine, quietly pleading, and I know what it is she's asking. As complicated as her relationship with Tyler is, it's clear she still cares about him.

"I'll find him," I say.

Relief lines her face as she glances at the clock. "Try the usual places and let me know if you find him."

I tell her I will and then set off to find him. It doesn't take long to realize he's no longer at the hospital, so I climb on my bike and set off into the night, heart humming as fast as my engine. I try Mojack's next, then our secret place at the track before ending up at his dorm.

I shouldn't be here – not after everything that's happened between us, and I'm tempted to walk out. But despite his radio silence as of late, I can't bring myself to leave. Not just because I'd promised Alex I'd find him, but because walking away when he needs me the most is something I could never do.

Breath held, I knock on the door. The other side remains silent, but I hover a moment and press my ear to the door, listening for the slightest of sounds. If Tyler isn't here then I'm out of ideas, so I desperately knock again.

I don't know what to expect right now, but I know I'm expecting the worst. Tyler could be inside with a girl for all I know, or he could be getting into trouble somewhere else entirely, and I'm powerless to stop it. Frustration gets the best of me, and I bang on the door in quick succession, hoping he'll open up.

"Hey." I turn on my heel and eye the guy behind me. He tilts his head, blue eyes flashing with amusement. "I don't think anyone's in there."

"I know." Suddenly I feel like a crazy person. "Wishful thinking, I guess."

He grins before running a hand through his hair. He's got that clean-cut look about him, all blond hair, blue eyes and dimples. Too clean-cut. The kind of guy who's good looking and he knows it. "He probably won't be back for a while," he says. "He's been storming in and out all night. I'm Joey, by the way." He sticks out his hand, so reluctantly, I take it.

"Roxy."

He takes a step closer, guiding me by the waist toward his dorm. "You can wait in my room if you want. Saves you camping outside of his room."

I give him a look as though he's crazy. No way would I be stupid enough to wait in the room of a boy I don't know, but before I get a chance to say any of this, Tyler's door flies open.

The sight of him standing in the doorway does something strange to my stomach. It's pitch black behind him – he's turned off all the lights and the curtains are half-closed – but a sliver of moonlight peeks in through the gap, lighting up a fraction of his face.

My gaze trails his face, taking in the shadow of a bruise dusting his cheek and ending up at his lips. The corner of his mouth is cut and slightly red, but other than that, his face remains unblemished by his fight with Sam.

What worries me is the rest of his appearance. His hair is disheveled and his clothes reek of alcohol. It's hard to tell whether the redness in his eyes is from drinking too much or whether he's been crying.

His eyes flit to Joey as he steps into the corridor. He's dressed in black sweatpants and a tight black tee that makes his biceps looks huge. Joey notices too and swiftly drops his hand from my back.

"Hey man," Joey says, "looks like you're in after all. I was just about to help your girl look for you."

Tyler doesn't look at me as he says, "Go inside, sirenita."

The tone of his voice sets me on edge. I head into his bedroom and sit on the bed as he shuts the door behind me. I scan the room, which looks more or less the same as the last time I'd visited, except sitting on his bedside table is an empty bottle of whiskey.

Oh boy.

Outside, the pair are busy exchanging words, their voices too low for me to hear what they're saying, but then Tyler comes back a few minutes later and slams the door shut behind him. For a second, we're both silent, watching each other through the dark.

Finally, I crack and get to my feet, about to ask him what that was all about when he takes a step closer. The words fall away as his arms snake around me, drawing me into his chest. I inhale sharply, gathering up the courage to take a step back when he buries his face in my shoulder.

And just like that, everything I'd been planning to say goes out of the window. He's holding me tightly, clinging to me like I'm his last available lifeline, and I feel the very moment my heart breaks. I hug him right back, harder than I've ever hugged anyone before, because he needs this.

I need this. I've been so focused on training, on forgetting the hurt that he caused when he quit, that now it's all rushing back. Every emotion I've felt since meeting him, from distrust to lust to...something more...fills up my chest, threatening to rip me to pieces.

I don't know how long we stay like this, but it feels like a long time. Everything about this feels intimate, like for the first time ever, he's showing a part of himself to me he usually keeps hidden.

I'm not sure who moves first, but somehow his mouth ends up somewhere near mine. His breath feels warm, and I can smell the distinct smell of liquor on his breath, which suggests he's not thinking straight.

In some ways, neither am I. Indecision wars inside of me, my head and my heart at odds once again. My head demands I don't be reckless right now, not when the race is so close, but my heart screams move closer despite every fibre in my body saying no. Moving closer is dangerous, a distraction I thought that I'd finally vanquished, and yet here we are once again.

He makes the decision for me by leaning in closer. I feel my breath hitch as his lips brush mine, so soft at first that I almost don't feel it, but it's enough to make my stomach ignite. I fight to suppress it, not that it works – the harder I focus on how much I've missed this, the harder it is to step back.

"Don't," I whisper, but the moment his hands reach up to my face, I falter. It all feels too good, too familiar, like we're back in that hot tub and I'm feeling his touch for the very first time. And yet a part of me knows that now is not the time to give into these feelings, not when he's not thinking clearly. Anyone with half a brain knows that a bottle of whisky and being upset are not a winning combination. "Come on," I say. "You need to sleep it off." But as I grab his hand to lead him to the bed, he resists. I turn to look at him, noting the hesitation in his eyes.

"Will you stay?" he asks.

The way he says it – so boyish and uncertain – makes my heart hurt. I'd have to be heartless to say no. "Okay," I say, "but just for tonight."

Relief crosses his face as I pull back the covers. After a second or two, I message Alex to let her know where Tyler is, unzip my gear until I'm down to my t-shirt and sweatpants, then crawl into his bed. He slips in behind me, pulling the covers around us to shield out the cold.

There's a second where we just lie here with this big space between us, too afraid to move closer. The last time I'd been in his bed, I'd been convinced that maybe, despite my reservations, things between us would work. Now I'm more uncertain than ever.

But slowly, as though I'm a skittish horse ready to bolt, Tyler draws me closer. My body relents, sinking into the grooves of his chest like we were built for this. And I hate it. I hate that it feels so familiar and warm, that I've let him break down my defences.

I hate that I miss this.

As the night stretches on and I grow more comfortable, I pull back a little to study him. His eyes are closed, his breathing soft and fluttery like he's already asleep, and I can't help but notice how angelic he looks. Unable to help it, I lean in closer and take a slight breath before brushing my lips over his. Then, when he doesn't stir, I close my eyes too and fall asleep to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

❤️