Page 4 of Trade It All

“Luka!” I scream.My voice echoes in the empty parking lot. Why isn't anyone around?

“Come on. Wake up.” His chest barely moves. His eyes stay closed.

“Please,” I whisper. My hands slip again. Blood coats my fingers. My sleeves. The pavement beneath him.

“I’m here,” I choke out. “I’m right here.”

“Luka!” I scream again. His chest stops moving. The silence is suffocating.

“No—no—no—” My hands shake as I grab his shoulders.

“LUKA!”

I bolt upright in bed. My lungs drag in a sharp breath as my heart slams against my ribs.

“Luka!” The name tears out of my throat before I can stop it.

For a moment the room spins around me. The parking lot. The blood. The sirens—

A groan comes from beside me.

“Jesus…” The mattress shifts. Tyler rolls onto his back with an irritated sigh. “If you’re gonna scream another guy’s name,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep, “take your PTSD ass to the living room so the rest of us can sleep.”

I stare at the ceiling. Of course. Of course that’s his reaction.

“You know why,” I say quietly.

Tyler doesn’t answer. He just flips onto his side, already pulling the blanket tighter around himself. The conversation, as far as he’s concerned, is over. Myjaw tightens.

Tyler Mercer plays in the AHL. He’s been around hockey long enough to know exactly what happened that night. Hell, everyone in the hockey world knows. Luka’s attack made national headlines for weeks. Star NHL goalie. Ambushed outside his own arena. Almost died from the head injury.

Tyler knew all of that before we even started dating a few months ago. But caring about other people has never exactly been his strong suit. Another annoyed sigh comes from his side of the bed.

“Living room,” he mutters into the pillow.

Right.I throw the blanket back and swing my legs over the side of the mattress. The apartment is cold against my skin as I grab the spare pillow near the headboard. Tyler doesn’t even look at me. He’s already halfway back to sleep. I grab the extra blanket from the chair and walk out of the bedroom.

The living room is dark and quiet. Too quiet. I curl up on the couch, wrapping the blanket tightly around my shoulders and pulling my knees to my chest. My hands clench in the fabric. For a moment I swear I can still feel it. The blood. Warm. Slipping between my fingers no matter how hard I tried to stop it. It’s been almost a year. Almost a year since I found Luka unconsciousin the parking lot outside the arena. Almost a year since the nightmares started. And no matter how many times I remind myself he survived—No matter how many times I see him laughing in the locker room or standing in net like nothingever happened—My brain still replays the moment I knelt beside him. The moment I thought he was dying.

In my dreams… He always does.

I rest my head against the couch cushion and stare at the dark ceiling. Somewhere across the city, Luka is probably sleeping peacefully beside Adrianna. Alive. Safe. But my brain doesn’t care about reality at three in the morning. It only remembers the worst version of that night. And the moment I thought I had gotten there too late.

The sound of cabinet doors slamming pulls me out of sleep. My eyes open slowly. For a moment I don’t remember where I am. Then the couch cushion presses against my cheek and the blanket tangled around my legs reminds me.

Right.Living room. I sit up, rubbing my eyes as sunlight spills through the apartment windows. More cabinets slam in the kitchen.

Tyler.

My brain is still foggy from the nightmare and the lack of sleep. I push the blanket off my lap and stretch, my neck stiff from sleeping on the couch.

“Morning,” Tyler calls from the kitchen. His voice is…normal. Like last night didn’t happen. Like he didn’t roll over and tell me to take my PTSD ass to the living room.

I glance toward the kitchen. Tyler stands at the counter in sweatpants and a t-shirt, opening and closing drawers while he digs around for something. He looks over his shoulder when he notices me watching.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, giving me a quick smile. “You hungry?”

I blink at him. Just like that. Like he wasn’t a total dick six hours ago.