If You Want Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

It’s Hemi’s birthday, and the entire team is out celebrating. Management took us to dinner so Tally could be part of the festivities, but now we’re at a club so the rest of the girls can get their dance on. Aurora looks like temptation personified tonight. Her dress is killing me. Fucking killing me. So is the incessant boner I’ve had since she floated through the door, looking like the sexiest fairy princess I’ve ever seen. Her gauzy pale blue gown skims the floor. The bodice is intricate with lace and beading, and based on the thin straps I could snap with my fingers, she’s braless. There’s a slit up the right side, showing off her creamy, athletic thigh. That I’ve had my hands on, that has straddled my lap while I rubbed her cotton-covered pussy all over my cock.

As if her being fully clothed somehow made what I did less of a betrayal.

And now I can’t get the other night out of my head. Can’t erase the memory of her soft whimpers and deep moans, of the wet sounds, of my name on her lips when she came.

I thought I was fucked after the kiss. Then I thought I was even more fucked after the dry fuck. But the phone sex. God, the fucking phone sex.

“You all right, man? You seem a little out of it tonight. Pain levels okay?” Roman asks, like the good friend he is.

“Doing okay.” My knee aches, but not unmanageably. I’m used to the stiffness when I first walk, to the familiar ache that fades after a couple of minutes. With four hours of physical therapy a day, regular massages, chiropractic, osteopathy, and a lot of time in the pool, my range of motion is returning. Does it mean I’ll be able to get back on the ice anytime soon? Who knows.

“Something else eating at you then?” Roman presses.

I dry fucked your daughter while you were away and then had phone sex with her three nights ago and can’t stop thinking about how much I’d like to do it again. But not over the phone.

She hasn’t messaged me since, and it’s eating me alive. She seems to be handling this a hell of a lot better than I am. I don’t know what to say, and it feels like every conversation digs my hole deeper. But I don’t want to climb out of it. “Just preoccupied is all.”

“Fingers crossed you’ll get the all-clear in time for playoffs.” He claps me on the shoulder.

A woman recognizes us and invites me to the dance floor, but I politely decline.

“Why’d you turn her down? She seemed…fun.”

“I’m not really looking for fun.” The only woman I want, I shouldn’t have.

“Does that mean you changed your mind about a certain starlet?” He’s clearly on a fishing expedition.

Of course that’s what he thinks. “No, my feelings on that haven’t changed.” She’s texted a few times since I saw her. Once she suggested I visit her on set. Roman was around when I got that message and has been pushing me to give her another shot. He has no idea that I am obsessed with his daughter and already have my hands full. I’m definitely vying for the shittiest best friend of the year award.

“You worried about the gala?” Roman asks.

“Why would I be worried about the gala?” I’ve participated in the auction enough times to know what to expect. Although I feel conflicted about it this year. Usually, these dates end up being with someone’s grandmother, or a couple who just want to talk hockey. The way Flip’s date ended last year is an exception, and not the rule.

He gives me a look. “Didn’t you read the email from Hemi? She sent it this morning.”

“Uh, no. Why?” I had physical therapy this morning, followed by a barrage of other appointments, all meant to help me heal.

“Scarlet and a bunch of her castmates are attending.”

My grip tightens on my scotch. I needed something stronger than beer tonight, with Aurora looking like temptation personified. “I didn’t realize.” That is not ideal at all. I don’t want Aurora and Scarlet in the same room together, and now that’s unavoidable.

I look over at the dance floor, where Aurora and the rest of the girls are. They’re all dressed like princesses. Aurora must already know about Scarlet coming to the gala. Maybe that’s why she’s been quiet this week. I don’t know how to define what’s going on with Aurora. But I do know it’s getting harder to stay away. She’s breaking me, little by little, without even trying.

“Are you sure you don’t have some unresolved feelings? You’re pretty tense about it. I don’t want to push you.” Roman sips his bourbon.

I run a hand through my hair. Roman and I became fast friends when I was traded to Toronto seven years ago. He wasn’t into the party scene the way so many of the players my age had been. He had a teenage daughter, no partner, and a lot of responsibility. I was nursing a broken heart and had no interest in a string of meaningless flings. Using sex to get over having my heart ripped out seemed like the worst possible idea.

I’d always been private about my love life, but even more so after Scarlet and I split. Mostly because the world had a front-row seat to that breakup. We’d been out for dinner when it happened, and the argument was caught on camera. Two days later she gave a statement saying we’d broken up, and it had been amicable, but more pictures of that argument circulated, along with speculation. My lack of comment only fed the rumors. Then I moved to Toronto. Put my head down and channeled all my energy into hockey.

“I don’t have unresolved feelings about her,” I correct. “I have unresolved feelings about how things went down when I was traded to Toronto.”

The worst part had been seeing her on the arm of someone else less than two months after I moved. The breakup was enough of a gut punch, but that she’d gotten over us so quickly…that was a shot to the heart I hadn’t expected. Knowing I loved her so much more than she’d ever loved me.

“You were young. You’re in different places now.”

“She’s here for a few months, and then she’ll move back to LA.” Besides, there’s already enough chatter on the hockey sites about her coming to games. She’s always in the public eye, and with this new movie, that won’t change. Not that it matters since I’m not interested in rekindling our failed relationship.

“Okay, I’ll drop it.” He sips his drink. “I need to plan something for Peggy. Her birthday is just around the corner. I can’t believe she’s turning twenty-one. It feels like she just graduated high school.”

I wasn’t at her convocation, but I celebrated afterward with her family. She’d already been accepted at her university of choice, with a scholarship. Things had been different back then. She was still a kid.

“She give you any hints about what she wants to do to celebrate?” Whatever it is, she’ll want Tally involved.

“Her mom’s coming to visit, but I’m keeping that a surprise—unless Zara can’t contain her excitement and ends up telling her. It’s been a few months since she’s seen her.”

“Is she coming on her own, or bringing North with her?”

“Pretty sure he’s coming,” he says.

“Are they staying with you?”

“If it’s just the two of them, yeah.”

“It still blows my mind that your ex and her partner stay with you when they visit.”

He shrugs. “It’s easy because she and I weren’t meant for each other. If we hadn’t had an amicable split, it would be different. She’s a great mom to Peggy, and we get along better as friends than we ever did as a couple. Besides, her lifestyle and mine don’t mesh. I’m not the sharing type.”

“Yeah, me neither.” I sip my drink.

Zara is a total free spirit. She’s been in an open relationship with North for as long as I’ve known Roman. Sometimes when they visit, they bring an extra friend along and stay at a hotel. I don’t pretend to understand the dynamics since half the time the extra “friend” is a woman and half the time it’s a man, but it seems to work for them. Personally, the idea of sharing Aurora with someone else makes me feel homicidal. Not that she’s mine.

Dallas drops into the chair beside me and chugs a bottle of water. The hair at his temples is damp with perspiration, and his dress shirt is open at the collar. “Roman, you look like a bodyguard. Hammer is safe out there. The entire team knows better than to hit on her.”

“She would never date a player anyways. I would never allow it,” Roman adds.

I choke on my scotch.

Roman claps me on the back. “You all right?”

“Just went down the wrong pipe.” Six months ago, I was playing bodyguard along with Roman.

Tristan is out there with Rix, grinding her body against his. When she tries to spin around, he grabs her hip and drops his mouth to her ear. She melts against him. I look away and my gaze snags on Shilpa and Ash. They’re slow dancing even though it’s a high-energy song, oblivious to everyone around them. What I wouldn’t give to be able to touch Aurora like that.

“Why aren’t you two out there?” Dallas asks, pulling me out of my head.

I point to my leg. It’s the only excuse I have right now to keep me from doing something I shouldn’t.

“I don’t dance.” Roman polishes off the rest of his drink.

“Untrue. I’ve seen you out there before.” Dallas finishes his water.

“Amendment: I don’t dance unless I’m drunk, and we have practice tomorrow, so getting shitfaced is off the table.”

“Suit yourself.” Dallas hops up and heads for the girls.

Roman pulls his phone from his pocket and frowns. “Shit. I missed a call from my agent. I need to check my voicemail. You mind watching Peggy’s purse thing?” He pushes the tiny, pale blue clutch across the table.

“Sure, no problem. Take your time.”

He heads toward the exit, and I settle back in my chair, scanning the dance floor as Aurora’s favorite song comes on. Her gaze catches on her dad’s empty chair as she looks my way, and she crooks a finger, inviting me to join them.

I shake my head. It doesn’t matter that it’s all I want—to go to her. To touch her freely.

She leans in and says something to Hemi, who nods. And then she’s slipping through the crowd, weaving between bodies as she heads for me. Her hair is damp at the temples, her skin glistening. She’s just so fucking beautiful.

She leans down, lips skimming the shell of my ear. “Why are you all alone?”

I turn my head, our cheeks brushing. “Your dad needed to check a message. His agent called.”

“Come dance with us.” She leans back, eyes moving over my face. She’s been drinking, but she’s not drunk.

I drag my tongue across my bottom lip. “It’s not a good idea, Princess.”

“I’m not asking you to fuck me on the dance floor, Hollis. Just come dance for one song. Have a little fun. You know if it’s his agent, he’ll be a while. You always used to dance with us. It’s my favorite song. Pretty please.” She bats her lashes.

I’m so weak for her. “Just this song.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me out of my seat. It’s something she’s done in the past. But the innocence of it is gone, replaced with an awareness that didn’t exist before. We move through the pulse of hot bodies, sweat and perfume and cologne mixing, but I can still smell her shampoo. I put a protective hand on her waist as we weave through bodies. She pauses, fingers lapping mine as she looks around. Even with heels, she’s not quite tall enough to see over the heads of others.

I bend until my mouth is at her ear. “They’re about twenty feet to the right.”

She shifts until her back is flush with my chest. “Can they see us?”

“If they were looking this way, they could.” My heart is thundering in my chest. I should step back, but I don’t want to lose this connection, even though it’s a dangerous game we’re playing.

“But they’re not?”

“For the moment.”

She moves my hand to her hip, her ass pressed against my growing erection. My fingers grip her automatically. I can feel the heat of her through her dress.

“It’s too public a place, Princess. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea.” But fuck if I don’t want it to be. I want to kiss my way up the column of her throat. I want to take her home and peel her out of this dress and make her come again. I want to make her mine and never let her go. But Roman’s words dig at me. She would never date a player. I would never allow it.

“If you’d get out of your own way, it would be a perfectly excellent idea.” She releases my hand. I follow as she slips through narrow gaps and try to catch her wrist, but she’s just beyond my grasp.

When we reach the group, Aurora pulls Rix away from Tristan, and the two of them start dancing together. It’s borderline obscene. Which is the point.

Tristan stands beside me with his arms crossed. “I can’t decide if this is payback or foreplay.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

“Probably both. You two are good, though, yeah? And you and Flip are back to normal.”

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, to all of the above. It’s easier now that me and Flip aren’t living in the same space. We’re both in therapy so that’s good. He and I aren’t all the way back to normal yet, but it’s better that I can’t see what he gets up to. Mostly it’s conflicting, you know?” He turns to me. “Actually, you probably don’t, since you and Roman haven’t done the kind of shit me and Flip have.” He sighs and rubs his bottom lip. “It’s a tough situation to navigate. Flip knows more about me and what I like than he should, and I know more about him than I should. But I love Bea more than anything, and he knows that, so the rest we try to either ignore or look past.”

“It’s good you’re working things out.”

“Yeah, it is. I was my own problem. Sometimes I still am.”

“We all are.” Isn’t that what Aurora meant when she said I should get out of my own way? Maybe she’s right.

I watch as Rix and Aurora sway to the music, laughing, Aurora’s hands on Rix’s shoulders and Rix’s on Aurora’s hips. What I wouldn’t give to trade places with Rix. I want to believe Roman would get over it the way Flip has, but I don’t know. In some ways, Rix ending up with Tristan is more fucked up, considering his history with Flip. Those two have seen sides of each other that complicate things. But Aurora is so young. What she wants now could change, should change with time and experience. I don’t want to complicate her relationship with Roman.

“Oh, fuck, dude.”

I look over at Tristan. He’s staring at me with something like understanding, empathy, and pity. The last time I saw this look on his face was when they carried me off the ice a few weeks ago. “What’s going on?”

“Now it all makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Maybe he’s drunker than he looks.

“Don’t make the same mistake I did. I caused a lot more hurt than I needed to.”

Panic makes my throat tight. Back when Tristan and Rix were still hiding what was going on, Roman called him on it. I didn’t find out until after shit hit the fan that he already knew, but I hope this isn’t Tristan telling me he thinks he knows what’s going on with me and Aurora. I don’t even know what’s going on. Only that it’s become impossible to stay on the right side of the line. “What are you⁠—”

I startle when Roman’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Hey, man, do you have Peggy’s clutch? Is everything okay?”

I hold up the clutch, then point to Aurora and the girls. “Yeah, just keeping an eye on things.”

“Thanks for making sure she stays out of trouble.” Roman makes a constipated Kermit the Frog face when Aurora starts twerking in her princess dress. “I gotta head out. I’m meeting with my agent in the morning.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just a couple of things we need to discuss. You staying a bit longer or you want to come back with me?”

My knee is starting to ache, and sticking around means Tristan can grill me. I don’t want to do something stupid, like actually confide in the guy. And being this close to Aurora without putting my hands on her, kissing her, is pushing me to the edge. The wave of guilt is more than I can deal with. I’m screwed all the way around. “I’m ready to go,” I say, though it’s not really true.

We say our good nights and leave Tristan, Flip, and Dallas to watch over the girls. Roman tells Aurora to text him when she’s home. He passes out on the ride back to our place, probably because of the bourbon. He’s bleary eyed on the ride up to the penthouse, mumbling good night as he lets himself into his place.

I feed Postie and Malone as soon as I walk through the door. Then I hit the shower and whack off to thoughts of Aurora, feeling guilty as fuck when I come. I change into a T-shirt and joggers, turn on the TV, grab an ice pack, and sit on the couch, flipping channels until I find the news. Postie kneads my legs until he deems them appropriately tenderized, while Malone humps his blanket and I scroll through social media, checking Hemi’s feed. Half an hour ago, she posted a picture of her and the girls at the Pancake House across the street.

Rix will stay at Tristan’s tonight. Aurora’s probably home by now. I war with myself to stay where I am. To not give in. To not be weak.