If You Hate Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

“Nate, man, I’m sorry.” I keep shaking my head. My brother messaged a few minutes ago to ask if I was home and if he could video-call me. I’d just gotten home from practice, and I’m always up to talk to my brother. But I wasn’t prepared for the reason why.

“It’s such a gut punch. I thought we were going through a rough patch because of our workload this semester. Now I find out she’s interested in some other guy.” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat.

I scramble for words, but I’m at a loss, so I end up repeating myself. “I’m sorry. I know how much you liked her.”

He looks like he’s on the verge of tears. “I didn’t like her, Tris. I was in fucking love with her. I still am.” He rubs his chest. “Fuck. I thought we would move in together this summer. We were looking at graduate programs together. We applied to all the same places. And now I find out she’s been talking to this other guy in one of her classes. Like, how long have I been missing the signs?” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Love fucking sucks.”

I hate that I can’t fix this for him. He looks wrecked. “You need to come for a visit? I can get you a train ticket. You can stay with me. I’m not traveling until next week,” I offer. “Or I can fly you to an away game.”

“I would if I didn’t have exams in a couple of weeks. The timing of this is just shit.” He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. “She told me I wasn’t emotionally available enough. That I didn’t show her I care enough. I told her I loved her. I don’t know what else she wanted from me. What else did she need?”

I blow out a breath. I always felt like Nate had it together better than I did when it came to relationships. He had a girlfriend in high school for two years. And he dated another girl his freshman year of university. Both of those breakups sucked, but they have nothing on this one. Watching my brother fall apart over a woman scares the shit out of me. “I don’t know, man. I’m probably not the best person to go to for relationship advice.”

“You and Rix have been together for a while, though, right? And you’ve dated a lot,” Nate says.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d use the term dated to describe what I’ve been doing, and Bea and I have only been seeing each other for a few months. It’s not the same,” I argue. We spend a lot of time together, and we have a lot of sex, but we don’t have a label. The closest I’ve gotten is calling her my girl. Labels feel like unnecessary pressure. Like there’s more at stake. Like I have more to lose.

Nate’s brow furrows. “But you’re in love with her.”

I immediately reject that possibility. “No, I’m not.”

Nate’s expression turns incredulous. “Bro.”

I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. “What?”

“Dude, there are media shots of the two of you together. It’s pretty obvious you’re into each other.”

“Yeah. We have a good time together, and I like her, but it’s not serious.”

Even I realize that sounds like a lie coming out of my mouth. I’ve been fighting my feelings for Bea for a while. Not putting a label on it isn’t going to make the way I feel about her go away. Neither is trying to stuff them into a box and keep them there. As I sit here, arguing with my heartbroken brother, I realize he might be right, and fuck if I want to end up in the same position as him. He’s gutted, and they were together for a year. He’s way nicer than I am, better at relationships. Nate was planning their future, and she just bailed.

“All right. Whatever you say.” He glances away, maybe so I can’t see his watery eyes. “I gotta go. I’ve got class in half an hour, and I need to get my shit together.”

“I’ll text you later. Check in to see how you’re doing, okay?” I say.

“Yeah, that sounds good. But can you not tell Dad, please? He was excited to see Lisa over the holidays, and I can’t deal with the disappointment right now.”

Our dad is a big fan of Lisa, so I understand his concerns. And he’s asked if I’m bringing Bea. I said I wasn’t sure, assuming she’d go north to visit her parents for at least part of the holidays. “It’ll stay between us,” I assure him.

I end the call and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes. Seeing Nate wrecked like this freaks me out, especially because the more I think about it, the more I realize he’s right. I’m in love with Bea. But I’m not good at long term. I haven’t attempted a real relationship since the one in high school blew up.

Being in love with Bea isn’t something I know how to deal with. Nate and Lisa went to the same university. I travel too much, my life is hockey, and my contract is up at the end of the season. The odds that it could work aren’t fantastic. And Bea’s last relationship ended because he moved across the country. Getting invested feels like I’m setting myself up for failure. I’ll let her down eventually, and she’ll leave. And then I’ll be alone, again. Except I’ll have a giant hole in my chest where Bea used to be.

Even if Toronto renews, I don’t know how long I’ll be here. And I could still end up anywhere in North America come June. Bea needs stability. Hell, she deserves it, considering how unstable so much of her life has been. It’s not like she’ll move across the country with me if I get traded. Unless it was Vancouver. Then she’d at least have Essie. But I don’t want her to do that, anyway. What if I fuck shit up again and she’s stuck in some province or state with just me? She’d be miserable.

I’m off my game during practice, the conversation with my brother weighing on me. When I get to Bea’s, she’s on a video call with Essie. She’s got her earbuds in. It’s a common occurrence these days. But it reinforces all the shit rolling around in my head. That I won’t be enough for her. That I’ll fuck this up, and she’ll get tired of dealing with me and my bullshit. That she’ll walk away again.

“Just give me two minutes.” She ushers me inside. “Tristan just got here. Yeah. Next week, same time works for me. I know. I’m so excited that you’ll be home for the holidays. I need my Essie fix like nobody’s business. We can go to all the Christmas markets. And you can help me look for new recipes to try out. Oh! And I want to show you the plan I’ve been working on. Yeah. I’m stoked.” Her eyes are all lit up. “Yeah. I know. I was looking at some really cool night courses. I might even be able to take one this winter, which would be amazing. We can talk about that when you’re here. And we’ll go to a game. You can meet all the guys. We’ll check the winter schedule and see if there’s a Vancouver game I could come your way for, especially since I can start taking vacation days.” There’s a pause, presumably while Essie speaks. Then Bea laughs. “I know. I can’t wait either. We’ll have sleepovers, and I’ll get the girls together for a night in, so we can include Tally. We’ll have a blast.” Another pause. “Miss you! Love you too!” Kissy noises. “Talk soon.”

She ends the call and sets her phone on the counter, pulling out the earbuds. “Hey. Sorry about that.”

“What kind of courses are you looking at?” It’s the first I’ve heard of this, apart from when I mentioned it on that secret date we went on.

“Just a nutrition class. It’s no big deal.”

“It kind of seems like a big deal, though, since it’s kind of your passion.”

She shrugs. “I haven’t even applied, and they only have so many spots, so it might not even happen.” She wraps her arms around my neck and smiles up at me. “How was practice?”

I want to push this more, but I don’t have the bandwidth for it. Not tonight. Instead, I settle a hand on her hip and let her pull my mouth down to hers. But I don’t make a move to deepen the kiss. Everything feels off. Wrong. Like I’m standing outside myself, watching this happen instead of experiencing it. Like I’m encased in concrete—my emotions too. “Not great.”

She pulls back, lips tugging down at the corners. “Did something happen?”

“Nate’s going through some stuff.” A year plus down the drain. And he’s heading into exams. It could affect his grades, along with everything else. If Bea leaves me, how will I handle that? The thought of her walking away makes me feel ill, and it’s only been a few months. How bad will it be a year from now? Two? Longer? It was bad enough when she moved out. That kind of hurt will destroy me. We haven’t been together long, and already she’s woven herself into my everyday. If that disappears, if she disappears, I’ll have this massive hole. In my life. In my chest. It won’t be like my mom leaving, either. At least I can’t run into her. But Bea is my best friend’s sister. I’ll know what’s going on in her life. She’ll find someone else, love someone else, and it won’t be me.

Her hands settle on my chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Because then I risk telling her how I feel. I’m in love with her. I don’t see how she could feel the same, be in so deep she can’t see straight.

Her smile is soft, uncertain. “Do you need a distraction?”

“Maybe, yeah.” I’m drowning in fucking feelings. Falling on them like swords. It’s pain and fear, and it’s eviscerating me from the inside. My heart is in a vise, and the ache just keeps expanding.

“Okay. I can do that for you.” Her hands skate down my chest, and she finds my belt buckle. She undoes my pants, pulls her shirt over her head, and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor as she drops to her knees in front of me.

I skim her cheek with my fingers. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“So are you.” Her lips brush the tip of my erection. “Let me make you feel better.”

I give myself over to the sensations and stop trying to find a way out of the pit I’m in. It’s better this way. I’m saving her from a lifetime of misery. She’ll realize eventually what I already know: I can’t be what she needs. But I can do sex. I’m good at it. I love giving her orgasms, making her feel good. But I’m hopeless at feelings, and I’m sure as hell not good at love.

She takes me in her mouth, but I can’t handle her gorgeous, guileless eyes. So I pull her up and bend her over the counter. I can’t look at her perfect face. Can’t have her eyes on mine. Can’t let her see the truth. The entire time, I try to convince myself that she’ll be better off without me. That I don’t want to wake up beside her every day. That I won’t miss the sound of her voice, or the feel of her body against mine when I hold her. That I’m fine without her smiles and her laughter and the smell of her citrus and vanilla shampoo.

But based on the nearly debilitating pain in my chest, I won’t be fine without her, and that scares the living shit out of me. She has all the power, and I already know how much it hurts when someone I love leaves. This will be so much worse. Especially if I don’t end things now, before she’s in as deep as me.

Afterward, we make dinner. I’m on autopilot, not really hearing anything she’s saying. I don’t taste the food as I chew and swallow. My head is all over the place. My chest is tight, and I keep thinking about the look on Nate’s face when he told me Lisa broke up with him. He’s devastated. Broken. I’ll be the same when it happens to me and Bea—worse probably, based on the way I already feel.

I help Bea clean up, and when the last dish is put away, there’s nothing left to do. I fold the dish towel and set it on the counter. “I don’t think I can do this with you anymore.”

Bea closes the cupboard door and turns to face me. “Do what?”

“This.” I motion between the two of us. “I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“I don’t understand,” she says softly.

I can’t be what she needs long term. Not when I don’t even know where I’ll be next year. What if I get traded? What if she wants to stay in Toronto? Flip is here, and she has friends. Her parents are a few hours away by car. Most of the people she cares about are here, apart from Essie. My job might be financially stable, but I’m gone half the time. What if what happened to Nate happens to us? I’m an asshole, the probability is high.

“My contract with Toronto is up at the end of the season. It’s anyone’s guess where I’ll end up.” Hollis is having a kickass season. Anything could happen. What if I get signed by Arizona or California? We’d hardly see each other. It’s hard enough to deal with away games now; being hours away by plane would be unbearable. My mind spins faster and faster.

She props her hips against the counter, expression reflecting her confusion. “But they might renew your contract. You’re having a great season. Hollis being back doesn’t change that.”

Being in love with her won’t stop her from leaving me eventually. Because Nate is right: this hollow ache in my chest, this rising panic, it’s all the feelings I’ve been trying to avoid. Roman saw it, fucking Hollis saw, Ashish saw it, and here I am, the last fucking one to figure it out. Walking away now will wreck me, but if I stick around it’ll be worse when the inevitable happens and she decides she’s done. She’ll meet someone better for her. Someone stable, easygoing, someone who can be there to take care of her like she deserves. She deserves flowers and date nights and someone who will tell her every fucking day how special she is.

My stomach continues to roil. The nausea is almost unbearable. “Hollis is having a great season. He’s got one more year on his contract, and I don’t. I have no idea what next year will look like. I’m probably going to move, and you just got settled in a new job.”

She crosses her arms. “We have months before that’s an issue.”

“But it’s going to be an issue eventually, Bea. It’s just a matter of when. We’re not a good fit.” I run a hand through my hair. There are so many things I wish I could say, but all those words are frozen in my mouth. So I tell her the one truth I can. “I can’t open up the way you’ll need me to in a relationship. I’m going to let you down, Bea. I can’t be what you need. We were having a good time, but we should just call it now. Before either one of us gets hurt.”

The ache in my chest turns into a crushing pain. I remember the last time I felt like this—the day I found my mom throwing her suitcase in the car. There’s no fucking way I can go through that again.

“Where is this coming from? I don’t understand.”

“Now or in a few months, the outcome will be the same. It’s not like we’re serious about each other.” I can’t be here anymore. Can’t deal with more questions. Can’t face the truth. I’m terrified of how I feel about her, and that fear will only grow, become more unmanageable, the longer I stick around. I thumb over my shoulder. “Okay, well, Beat, I’m going to go.”

She doesn’t stop me. Just stands in the kitchen, looking lost, and lets me walk out the door.