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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CHAPTER 11

HEMI

“It’s an honor to have you here.” I shake Corbin Murray’s hand as I welcome him. He’s one of the many celebrities we’ve secured for the charity game today.

“I’m stoked!” He smiles widely.

“So are we. If you’re okay with it, we’d love for you to pose for a few photos, and then we’ll have you escorted to the locker room to suit up.” I direct him to the backdrop where the photographer is ready with the camera.

Tally takes his hockey bag as the next celebrity comes through the door.

“Hemi, it has been too long!” Eric Steele—his real name and not made up for acting—drops his bag and pulls me in for a warm hug.

“Hey! Thank you so much for agreeing to be here today.” I give him an affectionate squeeze.

Hammer is standing to my right with wide eyes.

Eric is slow to release me. His fingertips glide down my arms in a familiar way, and his fingers curl around mine. His eyes are soft and so is his smile. “You look great.”

I echo his grin and shake off the compliment. “You’re making me blush.”

“How are you? I saw that you’re dating Dallas Bright. Gotta admit, I was kind of shocked, considering. I’m guessing things have changed a lot in the past couple of years.”

Heat works its way up to my cheeks. Eric knows all about my disdain for Dallas. I scramble to make the lie sound convincing. “It’s, uh…complicated. But yeah, my feelings have changed.” Could I have asked Eric to be my date to the reunion? Sure. And I did consider it. But showing up with my ex, who also happens to be a popular movie star, would have felt like I was trying too hard. Now I regret not asking him, because showing up with Dallas is a whole different level of messed up. But it’s too late now.

He nods, assessing me. “Well, he’s a lucky guy.”

“Who’s a lucky guy?”

I go rigid as Dallas’s arm winds around my waist from behind. And then his entire chest presses against my back. I elbow him in the ribs. “We’ve talked about PDA,” I mutter.

We have not talked about PDA.

He backs off and holds up both hands. “Sorry, honey. I forget myself sometimes. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He moves to stand beside me and extends his hand. “Eric Steele, great to have you here.”

“Thanks, man.” Eric accepts his hand, and they shake it out for several seconds. “I was just saying you’re a lucky guy to have snagged Hemi.”

“The luckiest.” Dallas wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a brief squeeze. “My dream woman is finally all mine.”

“I should probably do the photo op and then get to the locker room. I’ll see you out there on the ice, yeah?” Eric says, seeming slightly uncomfortable.

“Looking forward to it,” Dallas replies.

He nods and looks to me. “Hemi, it’s always good to see you.”

“You, too.”

Eric grabs his bag and makes his way over to Tally for photos.

“My sister would lose her mind if she were here. She lived in the T-shirt she had from his Fae movie franchise all through vet school.” Dallas’s eyebrows pull together. “How do you and Eric know each other?”

“We dated a while back.”

“Dated? When?” Dallas props his fists on his hips. “How long ago is a while back?”

“Right after my undergrad. I did an internship in LA to get some experience, and he was a friend of a friend of a friend. We dated for a few months, and then I came back to do my master’s and that was that.”

“So you broke up because of distance?” Dallas confirms.

“It didn’t work for a reason.” He’s actually jealous. Why would my fake boyfriend be jealous of my ex? Okay, famous ex, but still. “Why are you out here? You need to get ready for the game.” I shove Dallas’s shoulder, but he doesn’t budge.

“More reasons than distance?”

“This is not a Hollis-and-Scarlet-Reed situation. Calm down. Can we discuss this later, when we don’t have an audience and I’m not busy and you’re not supposed to be getting ready for the game?”

He runs his hands through his hair and exhales through his nose. It’s irritatingly hot. “Fine. I can be patient.” He leans in and his eyes drop to my lips. What the fuck is this fluttery feeling in my stomach all about?

When the flash of a camera goes off, I put a hand on his chest and lean back. “What are you doing?”

“I need a good-luck kiss from my girlfriend.”

“No, you don’t. You are not allowed to put your lips on me when I’m at work. There needs to be boundaries. Gear up. Now.” I point in the direction of the locker room.

His lip curls in a way that’s all too familiar. It sparks a memory from our grade-eleven law class, one of the few we had together. He always wore that infernal smile when I got up in front of the class for debates. “What is this look?” And why am I suddenly so flustered?



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