If You Need Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

As soon as I enter the locker room, my entire team is on me with back pats, “way to gos,” and “I had no idea this was as serious as it is.” Ash stands off to the side with his eyebrow quirked. He told me not to do this and I did it anyway.

We both know Willy will make my life a living hell for this. But I will absolutely take any and all of her anger because we just pulled the rug out from under Brooklyn and Sean’s decade long power trip. They’ve been putting up passive aggressive posts lately. When Brooklyn mentioned something about it being “too bad” one of our classmate’s partners cheated on them, I lost it. Those two assholes getting engaged isn’t nearly as exciting as the pro hockey player proposing to his high school crush in an arena full of people. Petty? Definitely. But what’s the point of all this power if I can’t use it for good. Now no one can question the seriousness of our relationship. Not when my ring is on her finger. I’m running on a wicked adrenaline high.

“I just booked the Rose Room,” Flip announces. “Everyone’s invited for dinner, including your parents and whoever else wants to come.” He drops his phone in his cubby and claps me on the back. “We need to celebrate the hell out of this.”

“How did you manage that?” That place is usually booked weeks in advance.

“Connections. I have lots.” Flip winks and heads for the showers.

I get additional back pats and hair ruffles as my teammates pass me, whooping it up. Nothing says celebration like booking one of the most expensive restaurants in town for the entire team.

I take my time getting undressed, and so does Ash. Neither of us says anything until we’re alone.

“When we talked about the time being right, I didn’t actually think the time would be tonight,” he murmurs as he unclips his pads.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but then I saw Willy’s face when Sean and Brooklyn appeared on the Jumbotron.” She looked like she wanted to throw down, which is something I’d pay to see.

“So you proposed,” he finishes.

“Yeah.” Was it a little impulsive? Sure. But fuck those two and their insidious behavior. I see their passive aggressive comments. I’ll protect Wills however I can, whatever it takes. This is my penance in a diamond ring.

He purses his lips. “Think it might be a good idea for you to tell Hemi the truth about what happened back then?”

I’ve considered that several times recently. “She wouldn’t believe me. Not yet. But hopefully I can change that between now and the reunion.” If I’m being honest, I also can’t force her to listen. Why would she trust my words now over my actions then?

“If that’s what you think is best…” He sighs and claps me on the shoulder. “We should hit the showers. I’m sure your parents are freaking out. I’m sure Hemi is too.”

An hour later, we’ve taken over the Rose Room, where an inordinate number of bottles of champagne are chilling. Wine, beer, and mixed drinks have been poured, appetizers served, and orders for dinner have been taken. The bill for this will be something else. Flip usually isn’t an extravagant guy. He’s the one who stops at the LCBO to pick up a six-pack of beer—always ultra-light—so he doesn’t have to order room service when we’re hanging out after a game.

Willy is across the room, holding a glass of champagne—although it could be club soda with a splash of something to make it look like champagne—surrounded by the girls. Shilpa is at her side, and has been the entire night. They’re smiling and laughing, but I see the tension in Willy’s shoulders. I wonder what kind of punishment she’ll dole out for this major infraction. I’m already on the docket for kids’ camp check in, the farmer’s association prized pig ceremony, and another balloon animal rotation. I’ve been practicing for the last one.

It isn’t until we’re about to sit down for dinner that Willy enters my orbit again. Her hand slides up my back and curves around my shoulder, nails pressing into the skin through my shirt. She pushes up on her toes until her lips brush my ear. I can feel her breath on my neck. If I turned my head, my lips would touch her forehead.

“I hope you enjoy this party, Dallas, because it will be the last one you ever have,” she murmurs.

I pry her fingers from my shoulder and link my arm with hers, leaning down so I can whisper to her while also breathing in her shampoo. “Careful, honey, you should know by now that threats just turn me on.”

“Did you do this just to piss me off?”

I meet her stormy eyes. “I did it for you.”

Her brow creases in confusion, but she doesn’t have a chance to ask more questions because my mom approaches. She’s over the moon. I’ve never seen her happier. If it were possible, her eyes would turn into hearts.

Her hand is at her chest. “You two are just the cutest.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bright. I can’t believe this is happening,” Willy says through a tight smile.

“Dallas is so smitten.” Mom pulls Willy in for a hug, whispering something I don’t catch. When she steps back, she takes Willy’s hands in hers and inspects the ring. “It’s the perfect fit. Do you love it? It was Dallas’s great grandma’s ring, passed down from her mother. I think it looks beautiful on you.”

“It’s stunning,” Willy agrees. “I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful ring.” Her smile matches my mom’s. If I didn’t know Wills better, I would think she meant it. And maybe she does, but suddenly I’m hit with regret. I authentically want that ring on her finger, and I wish she did, too.

“When I gave it to Dallas yesterday, I had no idea he planned to propose right away, but I’m thrilled we were here to see it.” Mom turns her smile on me. “Now, I know the credit card you gave me is supposed to be for Christmas presents and emergencies, but with your dad and me in town, we thought you and Wilhelmina would want a little privacy tonight. So I took it upon myself to book you a room at the Ritz. They have a beautiful honeymoon suite.” She turns to Willy. “I know you work tomorrow, but maybe under the circumstances they’ll be understanding, and you can go in a little late? That way you two can have a proper celebration.” She winks and giggles as her cheeks flush. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about your dad and me. We’ll be fine on our own.”

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Willy says, a smile still locked in on her beautiful face. Although this one looks slightly manic.

If I’m alone with her tonight, I might die.

There are worse ways to go.

Mom shakes her head. “This is such a special night. And a once-in-a-lifetime occasion! Go out with your friends, have fun, and celebrate your love.”

“Thanks, Mom. That was super cool of you. And thoughtful.” It’s her way, always thinking about other people, always wanting the best.

“So thoughtful,” Willy agrees as her nails dig into my forearm.

I love the sharp bite it sends down my arm. I’m glad I’m wearing a suit and still have my jacket on, otherwise this boner would be pretty embarrassing.

We take our seats, and they bring out the first course, which is lobster bisque. Willy surprises me when she doesn’t say no to a refill of her champagne. Clearly, the impromptu proposal is a stressor.

Between courses, I stretch my arm across the back of her chair and give in to the urge to finger the ends of her hair. It’s soft and silky, and all I want to do is shove my face into it and smell her shampoo. I have to give it to her; she’s playing the role of the happy fiancée pretty damn convincingly from the waist up. But under the table, her nails are digging into my thigh. I doubt she’d keep doing it if she knew what it does to me.

Dinner is a lavish affair, and again I’m surprised by how easily Flip seems to be letting us whoop it up on his dime. Unless he’s going to pass me the bill at the end of the night.

Once the dishes from the second course have been cleared, Flip pushes his chair back and raises his glass, commanding the attention of the table. “While I don’t think most of us saw this coming so soon, your love for Hemi is written all over your face, Dallas. And Hemi, as much as you ride my ass—in a professional way⁠—”

The table chuckles. Flip ducks his head and shakes it for a second before he gives us a wry grin. “Sorry. Trying to keep it classy. Hemi, you are such an integral part of this team. You keep us in line, you give us opportunities to give back to the community, and you make us a better team. Seeing you and Dallas together is inspiring. Separately you’re rockstars, but together you’ll be a powerhouse.” He holds up his glass. “To two of my favorite people finding once-in-a-lifetime love.”

“To love!” Everyone echoes the sentiment as glasses clink.

A chorus of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” follows. Willy’s nails dig so hard into my leg, I wouldn’t be surprised to find crescent-shaped cuts to admire later.

I turn toward her as she faces me. Her throat bobs with what I interpret as a nervous, or possibly rage-filled, swallow. But her eyes hold another set of emotions. There’s indignation, but I swear, layered underneath that is a hint of anticipation. Or maybe that’s me projecting, especially since the next emotion I see is fear. I don’t know where it comes from, and I don’t know how to fix it.

I don’t want to force this on her, but I realize that by making her my fiancée, I’ve taken her autonomy. And a piece of her freedom. I’m relieved when she makes the first move, tipping her head, leaning in. Giving me permission.

I mirror the movement and stroke along the edge of her jaw with my thumb, trying to convey through tender touch that I know I’ve put her in a shitty situation. I’m still probably the last person she wants to kiss. But I swear I’ll find a way to make it up to her, beyond shielding her from Brooklyn and Sean’s vitriol.

Willy’s nails retract from my thigh, and her hand slides over my chest to curve around the back of my neck. Once again, I feel the bite of her nails in my skin. It’s a light press this time, a reminder that she can make me bleed if she wants, more than just physically.

My body is electric with anticipation. But we’re in a room full of our friends, and Willy believes what’s happening is all for show. But I still want it. I still want her.

We lean closer still, and when our lips have almost touched, Willy whispers, “Retribution is coming for you, babycakes.”

“I fucking hope so,” I reply. Her anger is better than her apathy.

I deserve whatever punishment she sees fit to dole out. Especially because I want this kiss to happen, regardless of the reason for it. Every single nerve in my body lights up like fireworks on Canada Day when her lips meet mine. A deluge of fantasies I’ve had about her over the past decade flood my mind at the soft, velvet press of her smart mouth.

I slide my fingers into her hair, sifting through those satin strands. If things were different, if this was real for her like it is for me, tonight we really would be celebrating—with her soft, curvy body under mine. She angles her head on the quietest, most boner-inducing whimper I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Her lips part on a sweet gasp, and her tongue sweeps my mouth. Shocked and fucking ecstatic, I let my tongue slide against hers. Willy’s nails press harder into my skin, and I groan as those sharp bites make my cock swell further.

It isn’t until the whistles and catcalls pierce the haze of lust that Willy wrenches her mouth from mine.

All I want to do is gather her in my arms and whisk her to the hotel room so we can do that all night long. Maybe with less clothes. Definitely with less clothes.

She reaches for her champagne glass, draining what’s left.

While I’ve seen Willy red faced and angry, or delirious with glee over making me do something she knows I hate, I haven’t seen her embarrassed—not in a lot of years, anyway. But based on the flush working its way up her neck and into her cheeks, she seems pretty damn horrified. This is unfortunate, because that was the second-best kiss of my life, the first being earlier today, after I proposed.

“That was some kiss,” Hammer says from Willy’s right.

“Agreed.” Rix nods.

“I think we know what these two will be up to later tonight,” Mom whispers to Dad in a not-very-quiet voice.

That elicits chuckles from the people close to them.

Willy hands me her empty champagne glass without looking at me. “Fill that, please.”

“Of course.” I kiss her cheek.

She grinds her teeth and side-eyes me.

This might be glass number three, unless she’s been on the club soda, but I still refill it.

And I top her up once more during dinner. She rarely drinks, and definitely not this much, so I’m a little worried about her consumption, especially since she didn’t eat much at dinner. Mentioning that seems like a bad idea, though, so I keep my mouth shut.