Chapter 7
It was a good thing Sam was paying attention, or he would have tripped over Tyler as he turned to walk up the last flight of stairs—not that Tyler was easy to miss. He was six foot five of solid muscle. Bulging biceps that strained his T-shirt was kind of his trademark. His thick black hair fell into his deep brown eyes, and he had a habit of trying to make himself smaller because he knew just how intimidating he looked.
Tyler was one of the kindest people Sam had ever met. If he’d been a thug in his younger years, what did that matter? Sam only cared about the person he was now, and that person was hiding his face with his hair and sitting in the stairwell.
Sam didn’t say a word. He just sat beside Tyler, pushed in close, and then looped one arm through Tyler’s. A quiet hitch
