If You Want Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

“How do I look? Should I change? I don’t know about this shirt.”

Aurora

What do you think of this shirt? I have a coffee date with a guy from uni.

I snap a selfie and send it to my mom. She’s back in the land of internet and sent me some photos of the mountains. They’re supposed to bring serenity whenever I look at them. She’s right though, they do calm me.

“If you were attending a church gathering with seniors, that shirt would be fantastic. I suggest a V-neck and the bra you usually wear to the club for this date,” Rix says.

“I agree,” Hemi adds as my phone buzzes.

Mom

I love this color on you, but I feel like you’re not comfortable in it. If you don’t feel your best, you should put on something else that helps your energy.

PS. He better treat you right or I’ll tell your dad to give him his scary face.

PPS. Send me his star sign if you think he’s worthy!

Aurora

Thanks, mom! Fingers crossed it goes well!Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

“I’ve never seen your club bra, but in a little more than a year, I’ll have one of my own,” Tally announces.

“I’ve also never seen the club bra, but I trust Rix’s shirt recommendation for highlighting the assets.” Dred is always up for the Watering Hole and hanging at our places, but the club is not usually her scene.

“Hell has a special place for us.” Rix hands me a margarita.

That I need a drink before a coffee date says a lot about my expectations for the impending hour. It shouldn’t even be a big deal. I see Jameson all the time. We have classes together, and we’re always working on group projects, but for some reason labeling this as a date has me all angsty and flustered. He’s the kind of guy my dad wants for me.

“Hell will roll out the red carpet for you, my dear,” Hemi says dryly. “Tristan was in a particularly good mood today, which I assume means some produce met an untimely end last night.”

“This morning, actually. RIP cucumber.” Rix grins.

“I thought you were joking about the produce.” Tally looks horrified.

“I am.”

“She is.”

Hemi, Rix, and I are in perfect harmony.

Dred arches an eyebrow.

“Oh my God. You’re not.” Tally looks to Hemi. “Can I have a sip of that?”

“No.” Hemi sets her margarita on the table and looks away.

Rix and I do the same. Sort of on topic and with my confidence up, I take the opportunity to tell her the truth about how thin the walls are.

“Speaking of your sex life, I didn’t want to tell you, but I feel like if I don’t…” I whisper in her ear.

“Oh God.” Her eyes go wide. “What did I do?”

“So, uh, it turns out, the walls are thinner than we thought. During away games—” I cough. “I can, uh, I can hear you get to the good part.”

“No.” She slaps a palm over her mouth.

“It’s not a big deal.”

She grabs my arm, and I’m shocked to see she’s close to tears. “But it is. My brother used to—” She gives her head a quick shake. “I am so, so sorry, Hammer. You’ve been dealing with this for months.”

“I went up to my dad’s or Hollis’s. It gave me time with his cats.”

“Never again, though.” She pokes her chest. “I’ll wait for you to be out. Or be quieter. I’m just so sorry.”

I hug her. “It is absolutely okay. I wasn’t upset at you at all. But I want you to have your privacy and to feel free.”

“If we ever make you uncomfortable, you have to swear to tell me,” she whispers.

“Swear.” And link pinkies. “I just want you to be happy. Proud of you.” I bump her shoulder.

Tally sneaks another sip. The joke’s on her though, because Hemi’s margarita is like Tally: a virgin. But it makes her feel badass when she thinks we let her sneak sips of alcoholic beverages. Bless her adorable, sweet, seventeen-year-old heart.

“I’ll change my shirt.” I head to my bedroom.

“Just change your bra. I have a great shirt you can borrow.” Rix disappears into her bedroom.

A minute later I return to the living room, wearing only my favorite bra.

“Oh, wow!” Tally’s eyes go wide.

“That bra is a winner, and I need six.” Dred gives me a double thumbs-up.

“The bra makes them look more substantial. I’m a modest B-cup. Except when I have my period; then I’m a serious B-cup,” I explain.

Tally taps her lips. “Can we go bra shopping one day? I only have sports bras and plain black and nude bras.”

“Absolutely. We’ll plan a trip.” I’m built very much like my mom with my dad’s ridiculous metabolism. It means I’m lean, without a lot going on in the boob department. When I was in high school, some of the girls made fun of me because I was skinny and a late bloomer. I’d really hoped puberty would help a girl out, but my boobs never grew into my body. I do have a butt, thank God.

“You’re built like an athlete. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Hemi says. She has curves for days.

“Our bodies are beautiful exactly as they are.” It’s what my mom always says. I know she’s right, even when it’s hard. The bra does a good job making what I have work for me. And I can always go braless, if I want. Except when it’s really cold and my nipples can cut glass.

“I have two options.” Rix does a double take. “Holy hell, that bra is truly magical.”

“I know. It’s my favorite forever.” I should stockpile a few in case they stop making them.

Rix tosses her shirts over her shoulder. “Can I?” She raises a cupped hand.

“Oh yeah, go for it.” I motion for her to go ahead.

She pushes at the fabric. “Oh, that’s nice. It’s soft padding.”

Tally raises her hand. “Can I also feel?”

“Yeah. For sure. Hemi? Dred? You want in?”

Dred shrugs. “Might as well.”

“Damn, there’s nothing better than a soft supportive bra that seriously fits.” Rix’s eyes are wide in awe.

“Girl, I’m trying to rein these babies in on a regular basis.” Hemi motions to her ample rack.

Dred comments on the excellent support while checking out the straps.

Tally hops off the couch and gives my bra a tentative poke.

“Knock! Knock! Checking in to see how things are going pre-coffee date!” My dad comes barging into the apartment.

Tally, Rix, and Dred freeze with their hands by my boobs.

“What the—” My dad turns around and heads for the door.

“Dad, you need to wait until I say it’s okay to come in.”

“I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to know. I’ll message later.” The door closes behind him.

Rix, Hemi, and Dred burst out laughing. Tally covers her mouth with her hand and giggles. Then her eyes widen. “Do you think he’ll tell my dad?”

“No. Definitely not. Also, he literally has no idea what he walked in on. And I’ve told him at least half a dozen times not to let himself in.”

“I’m glad we were having normal kitchen sex when he walked in that one time,” Rix says.

“You’d think he would have learned his lesson.”

“Seriously.” Rix hands me a shirt, and I pull it over my head.

It’s a long-sleeve, loose knit, black V-neck sweater.

“You don’t need to try the other one on. This is perfect. You look sexy and cute and like the perfect date,” Rix assures me.

My phone buzzes. I check the screen. “Oh, God. He’s here. I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be. Forget about the other guy who’s too stupid to see a good thing when it’s right in front of him and have fun,” Rix says pointedly.

“Purse.” Hemi hands it to me.

“Shoes.” Rix guides me to the front door where my cute, impractical-for-the-weather flats wait.

I message that I’m on the way down and buzz Jameson in so he can wait in the lobby.

“We’ll all be here when you get back, unless you tell us to GTFO so you can have some private time. Then we’ll be over at Tristan’s. Or text if you need saving and we’ll be there,” Rix assures me.

“You got this. Have fun.” Hemi pulls me in for a hug.

“It’s going to be great.” Tally gives me a thumbs-up.

“That bra is really kick-ass.” Dred high-fives me. “Have a good time.”

I leave before I do something stupid, like change my mind. My stomach is full of butterflies as I take the elevator to the lobby.

Jameson is sitting on the couch when I step off the elevator. He’s a nice-looking guy. Hot, really. He has dark brown hair, lightly tanned skin, and dark brown eyes framed with thick lashes. He’s over six feet, lean, and a runner. He doesn’t play hockey and is involved in a lot of extracurriculars. He’s definitely one of the good guys.

“Hey.” He runs his hands over his thighs as he stands. His eyes light up and a wide smile forms as his gaze moves over me. It’s an appreciative look.

“Hey.” I return the smile and adjust my purse.

He comes in for a hug, which I awkwardly return.

“You look really good,” he says after he releases me. His gaze darts down for a second before returning to my face. “I like your sweater.”

“Thanks. You look good too.” He’s wearing a university hoodie, a pair of jeans, boots, a winter coat, and a baseball cap. So he’s dressed like any regular student.

“Oh, uh, I came straight from campus.” He motions to the lobby. “This place is nice.”

“Yeah. The pool and workout room are pretty sweet. And there’s loads of shopping and restaurants around.” I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I shove them in my pockets. “We can go across the street to the diner, if that’s cool with you.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” The right side of his mouth tips up. “I’m really glad you said yes to coffee, Aurora.”

God, he’s sweet. And he likes me. There’s no hot and cold with him. He’s consistent, unlike one guy I know. “Yeah, me too.”

But my stomach tightens as the front doors open and that guy walks through them, bringing a swirl of cold air and a furl of snow with him. Hollis removes his toque and runs a hand through his thick, dark waves. He’s wearing a pair of jeans that hug his hockey thighs in all the right places, the ridiculous banana duck hoodie I bought him two years ago for Christmas, and his winter jacket. His outfit and Jameson’s are pretty much the same, but for some reason Hollis makes it look effortlessly sexy.

“Holy shit,” Jameson mutters.

I should have met Jameson at the Pancake House.

Hollis’s expression softens when he sees me, until his eyes shift to Jameson, whose hand is currently pressed against the small of my back. Hollis’s gaze turns murderous, and my vagina gets stupidly excited.

“Is that Hollis Hendrix?” Jameson asks.

Hollis tucks his toque into his pocket and heads for us. “Hey, Princess.” He shocks the hell out of me when he pulls me in for a hug.

I stand there, stiffly, trying not to appreciate the way he smells, or how right it feels to be in his arms—even though I’m highly confused and justifiably pissed off. Eventually, I get it together and poke him in the ribs.

He releases me. I give him a look. He smiles.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Hollis asks expectantly.

“Right. Yeah.” I glance between them. “Jameson Grover, this is Hollis Hendrix. He plays right wing for Toronto, and he’s my dad’s best friend. Hollis, this is Jameson, one of my friends from school.”

Hollis extends a hand. I seriously hope he doesn’t crush Jameson’s.

“It’s so amazing to meet you,” Jameson gushes and pumps his hand. “I’m such a huge fan. I have your jersey at home. And your rookie card. I’ve been following your career since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? You play hockey?” Hollis asks through a tight, made-for-TV smile.

“For a few years, as a kid, but I uh…liked watching better. You’re having such a great season. That hit you took was such bullshit. Man, we were worried you’d be out again, but you showed them, huh?” Jameson finally releases Hollis’s hand.

Hollis runs his hand through his hair. “Mostly they were worried about the concussion.”

“Oh yeah, I can totally see that.”

I need to get us away from Hollis. “Well, Jameson and I should probably head out.”

“It was so great to meet you, Mr. Hendrix,” Jameson says. “Good luck tomorrow night.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later, Princess.”

“Sure, Hollis.”

I grab Jameson’s arm and drag him toward the lobby doors. Fucking Hollis.

Jameson waves over his shoulder as I push through, and we step outside into the cold February afternoon.

“Holy shit. You just introduced me to Hollis Hendrix.”

Jameson is a nice guy. Kind, hardworking, polite. It totally makes sense that he’s starstruck. I was when I met Scarlet Reed. “I did.”

“It’s one thing to know your dad is a pro hockey player, but the reality didn’t set in until that.” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Was that weird for you? I mean, I guess you’re used to being around pro hockey players all the time.” His brow furrows. “He called you Princess. He and your dad are bros, right? Like tight? That’s how the media makes it look, anyway. You must know him really well.”

I know what it feels like to have his tongue in my mouth. I’ve also fantasized an unreasonable number of times about being fucked by him. But I seriously doubt that’s what Jameson means. “I’ve known Hollis since I was in high school.”

Jameson nods thoughtfully. “He’s kind of like family then, right? Like an uncle or something?”

I choke back a hysterical laugh. “Yes and no? Mostly it’s this giant friend group who all have each other’s backs.”

When the light changes, we cross the street to the diner.

“Right, yeah. It’s kind of like having a bunch of older brothers. Like a lot of brothers who could kick some ass.”

“They can be protective like brothers.”

“I kind of caught that vibe from Hendrix. I hope I made an okay impression.”

“Don’t worry about Hollis. He’s grouchy on a good day.” I keep looking over my shoulder, half expecting to find him trailing us.

I can’t believe he hugged me. He’s the one who said kissing me was a mistake. He told me I should go on a date. He’s sure as hell getting an earful the next time we’re alone.

“Dating must be pretty tough, huh?” He holds open the diner door for me.

I murmur thanks and wave to Rainbow, heading for a booth near the back. “Sometimes. I’m used to being surrounded by high-level alpha dudes who are driven and super competitive.” I belatedly realize he probably meant it was hard to date with so many guys looking out for me.

Rainbow comes over to take our drink order.

“Hey! You ditch your dads today?” she asks.

I don’t bother to correct her. I think it’s hilarious that she believes my dad and Hollis are a thing. “Sure did. Rainbow, this is my friend Jameson. Jameson, this is Rainbow. It’s Jameson’s first time here.”

“Oh, you are in for a treat. I highly recommend any of the milkshakes, and the cookies-and-cream waffles are to die for.”

“I can attest to this,” I say.

We both order coffee and water, and Rainbow leaves us to look at the menu. “Don’t feel compelled to eat if you’re not hungry, but the waffles and milkshakes are really awesome.”

“I’m always hungry,” Jameson says with a grin.

“That’s a phrase I’m used to hearing.”

“I hope I didn’t fanboy over Hendrix too bad. I wanted to be cool about it, but I’m a hockey fan, and a Terror fan, and I didn’t expect to meet him. Or anyone, really, except for you.” He smiles shyly. “Thanks for saying yes to coffee.”

“Thanks for asking.” His expression should make my heart all melty and my girl parts all excited. Instead, I find myself comparing him to Hollis. Which isn’t fair. They’re not even playing in the same league, let alone on the same field.

I want to be attracted to him. I want to like him as more than just a guy in my class who’s shown an interest in me. But my head is across the street with Hollis, even though I’m pissed at him for pulling that bullshit.

Rainbow drops off our drinks. I order banana pecan pancakes with sausage links, and Jameson decides on waffles with a side of bacon.

“So what are your plans after graduation? Did you apply to any graduate programs?” Jameson asks.

I shake my head. “I’m kind of done with school. I’ve wanted to work for the league since high school, and there might be a public-relations-assistant position coming in the spring.” Hemi mentioned a few days ago that she’d submitted a proposal with Shilpa’s help. I’m crossing my fingers it goes through. The Terror are like family. I can’t imagine a life where I’m not at the arena or part of that team in some way, especially with my dad retiring soon. Working for them makes sense. It’s where I belong. “What about you?”

“I applied for a few master’s programs—two in Toronto, one in Ottawa, and two out west.”

“The West is beautiful.” Although I’ve mostly seen it from the inside of a hockey arena.

“It is,” he agrees.

“So you could be living in BC this time next year.”

“Or I could be here.”

“Or Ottawa.”

He nods, and just like that, the door on whatever this might have become closes. If Jameson’s moving across the province, or the country, there’s no point in trying to start something with him. At least that’s the excuse I make for myself. That this revelation isn’t followed by a pang of disappointment, but rather relief, is telling.

Rainbow stops by to top up our coffee cups and let us know our food will be out soon.

Jameson taps the edge of the table. “I’m going to use the bathroom before our food arrives.”

“Sure.”

As soon as he leaves the table, I pull my phone out and send a message to the girls and then my mom.

Aurora

Not sure there will be a date two.

My mom responds first.

Mom

That’s too bad, honey. The right someone is out there. You’ll find them when they’re ready for you!

I shift to my private messages with Rix.

Aurora

20-year-olds don’t do it for me.

My group message goes off first:

Rix

Does he push food onto his fork with his fingers instead of his knife?

Hemi

Did he order liver and onions? You know secretly he’s a grandpa inside if he does.

Dred

Can he even grow facial hair yet?

Tally

Why is liver and onions on the menu at the diner?

Maybe he’s nervous.

My private messages with Rix buzz.

Rix

I don’t know if it’s fair to compare him to a professional hockey player.

Aurora

*Side eye* He’s applied to grad school all over the country.

I move down to my messages with Hollis:

Aurora

WTF was that bullshit?

The bell above the door dings, and I glance up, then slide over in the booth until I’m practically eating the wall. This can’t be happening.