If You Need Me (Toronto Terror #3) Read Online Helena Hunting

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Toronto Terror Series by Helena Hunting
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
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“He said he’s not the right guy for me.” I fail to keep my voice from cracking at the end.

“Is he the wrong guy for you?” Sam asks.

“I don’t know.” But not being with him hurts more than I ever imagined it would.

“Don’t you, though?” Isaac chimes in. They’re the reason I was such a master debater. “He adores you. You adore him back. We all see it, Hemi. It might have started as a lie, but somewhere along the way it became the truth. Probably earlier than even you realize. Is it backwards? A little. But you’ve never looked as happy as you did at your engagement brunch.”

“What if his feelings change? What if down the road he decides he wants someone more laidback like him?”

“He’s loved you since you were kids. His feelings aren’t going to disappear,” Sam assures me.

“You are so loved, Hemi, by so many people.” Isaac smiles softly. “We saw it at the party when all your friends showed up for you—not out of obligation, but out of love. Dallas doesn’t want to be without you. Do you want to be without him?”

“No.” I miss him so damn much. I love the way he always opens the door for me or brings me lunch. I love how kind he is to everyone he meets. I love that he would do anything to protect the people he cares about. But the three words I love you are terrifying.

“Have you told him that?” Sam asks.

“No.”

Isaac jumps in. “Have you told him you love him?”

I sigh.

“So you’re not being honest about your feelings. This all makes sense now.” Sam nods knowingly to Isaac.

“Little sister, we love you to the moon and back,” Isaac says.

“Truth,” Sam agrees. “You were the best thing to happen to our family, Hemi. We still remember when Moms got the call about you. The second we met you, we all fell in love. I know our family isn’t conventional, and that Isaac and I are a lot to deal with, but we needed you.”

“You’re going to make me cry again.”

“We can handle it if you do,” Sam assures me. “You are brilliant and beautiful and a badass, and you always have been. You’re a fighter. But right now, you’re letting fear win. Take the time you need to get your head where it needs to be, but tell Dallas how you feel. I guarantee it’ll change everything for the better. And then you won’t be sad, and Isaac and I won’t have to hide a body.”

I laugh. “I love you.”

“We love you back, sis,” Sam replies.

“Seriously, though, Sam and I have the perfect spot if we ever need it,” Isaac adds.

“I know you do, and I adore you for it.”

“We’re here if you need us. For anything.”

We end the call, and I sit there, holding my phone against my chest. They’re right. I’m letting fear win.

CHAPTER 40

DALLAS

Ican’t deal with being in my penthouse. Everything reminds me of Wilhelmina, so I go home for the weekend. But before I do, I schedule my cleaner to come while I’m gone so when I return, I’m not slapped in the face by my failure.

Like an idiot, I leave on Friday afternoon, and the two-point-fiveish-hour drive takes four. My regrets are excessive by the time I arrive. Because now I have to explain why I’m here, looking wrecked.

“Where’s Wilhelmina? When you said you were coming to visit, I thought you would bring her along.” Mom frowns.

“We broke up.” Saying it aloud feels like I’m being stabbed in the chest.

“What? Why? What happened?”

“I messed up,” I admit. My eyes are hot, and my chest aches in a way I’ve never experienced before.

“Well, you can fix it, can’t you?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, sweetheart.” She takes me by the elbow and leads me inside.

My younger sister, Paris, is already in the kitchen, helping Mom with dinner. Her brow furrows when she sees me. “What happened?”

“Dallas and Wilhelmina broke up.”

She drops the potato into the pot on the stove. “What did you do, Dallas?”

I flop into the chair and accept a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade. I’d love a shot of vodka or seven to go with it, but I should probably be sober for this.

“Why do you assume it was me?”

“Well, was it?”

I word-vomit the whole horrible story, starting with all the things that happened when we were kids, down to every shitty little thing my friends did in high school, and all the ways I tried to make it better—like going to the custodial staff and secretly painting her locker when it was defaced after everyone else had gone home, or stopping one of the guys on the hockey team from ruining her student council president’s speech, and ending with the breakup in my car and the shitty office gossip. Marrying someone who doesn’t want to marry me was a future I didn’t want.



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