Misadventures of a College Girl (Misadventures #9)(60)

At my movement at the door, Tyler’s eyes flicker to me. Instantly, emotion washes over his face. I bolt toward him, promising myself for the hundredth time I won’t fall apart in his presence. When I reach him, I hug him fiercely, but he stiffens in my arms. I pull back, perplexed, and realize my touch has triggered a tsunami of emotion inside him—emotion he doesn’t want to release in the presence of anyone but me.

“Can Zooey and I have a minute?” Tyler chokes out.

The minute we’re alone, I hug Tyler to me and instantly, he breaks down in my arms.

I hold him as his tears flow. “If anyone can overcome this, it’s you,” I assure him as he quakes against me. “I did some research, love. This is going to be hard, but not impossible. This isn’t the end, Tyler.”

He doesn’t reply.

“I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper softly. “We’ll do this together. I’ll be with you every step of the way. I love you. Only you. Always you. Forever. You matter more to me than anything in the world. We’ll do this together.”

Tyler wipes his eyes and slowly calms down. “I’ve been missing you so much lately, baby. I was having a hard time.”

“Is that why you wanted to hear my voice today?”

He nods. “When they were carting me off the field today, I knew right then my knee was blown. And I thought, Now you don’t have football or the love of your life. Nice work, dumbfuck.”

I burst into tears. “You’ve got me, Tyler. You always have. I’ve never stopped being yours. I haven’t been with anyone else. Not once.”

He looks relieved. “I haven’t been with anyone else, either.”

Elation surges inside me. I throw myself at him again and pepper his salty cheeks with kisses. “I know it feels hopeless right now. But you’ll defy the odds.” I touch his tear-streaked face. “You’ll defy gravity, my love. You always have and always will.”

Tyler doesn’t reply. He just gazes at me, looking absolutely spent.

“Normal rules don’t apply to you,” I say softly, stroking his hair. “Yes, this injury takes some guys down for the count. But they’re not you. I researched it and there are a handful of guys who’ve come back from this exact injury, better than ever. One guy played, like, nine years after coming back. You’ll be like him.”

Tyler still doesn’t reply.

I stroke his hair. “I love you.”

He takes a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

“Good. I’m glad we’ve got that settled. Now let’s do this, okay? Positive thoughts from here on out. Failure isn’t an option.”

Tyler lets out a long, exhausted sigh. He pulls a strand of my hair taut and then watches it coil back into place upon release. “Thank you for coming, baby. I needed you.”

“Of course, love. We’re a team.”

He wipes his eyes and exhales. Clenches his jaw. “Okay. Let’s do this.”





Chapter Forty





The room is filled with the low sounds of the UCLA football game on TV and the motorized hum of the high-tech ice pack strapped to Tyler’s knee. Surgery to repair Tyler’s torn MCL three days ago went well, or so it seems. It’s too early to know for sure. And now Tyler’s on doctor’s orders to rest and recover for a few months until it’s time for a second surgery to repair his torn ACL.

I’m currently lying next to Tyler in his bed at his beachside home in Miami. My eyes are closed, but I’m not even close to falling asleep. I’m just sort of letting my mind wander, thinking about what I want to say in my admissions essay to the University of Miami. I’ve done some research, and it turns out they have a well-regarded musical theater program. Who knew? So I’m thinking I’ll go back to being a college girl, this time in Miami, while Tyler recovers and trains his ass off for his comeback, which should take place in about a year or so. Knock on wood. Of course, I’ve got to get admitted to UM for this little plan of mine to work, but the admissions numbers on their website indicate I’m a shoe-in.

I’m actually kind of excited about going back to school. Getting to watch those veteran performers every night on tour made me realize I’ve still got a whole lot to learn before I could even think about holding down the lead in a Broadway-caliber show. No matter what happens in the future, even if I wind up spending the next five years here in Miami with Tyler and never stepping foot onto a professional stage during that time, this plan will nonetheless allow me to learn and grow and better myself as a performer and person. Plus, I’ll maybe perform in some college productions, and that will help me keep my performing chops up for when I’ll hopefully grace a professional stage one day again. All things considered, I think it’s a perfect plan.

My phone pings next to me on the bed. I pick it up, look at it, and quickly put it down again.

“Who was that?” Tyler asks.

“My stage manager.”

“What did she say?”

“She was just checking in.”

“But what specifically did she say?”

“She said the policy is one week off for family emergencies, and she wants to know if I’m coming back in two days or not. If not, she said she’s sorry but she needs to fill my spot.”