If You Want Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

“Warming the bench for two weeks over a mild concussion? Is that necessary?” I’m pissed this is even a conversation.

“I’d rather have you out for two weeks now than during playoffs because we didn’t make the right call,” Coach says. “Why don’t we reassess next week?”

I rap on the arm of the chair. It’s hard to argue with his logic, especially since it feels like I’ve been hit by a truck. “A week.”

Coach’s expression turns empathetic. “I know this is frustrating, Hollis, but I don’t want to take unnecessary risks.”

“I appreciate it.” And I hear all the things he doesn’t say. Me being on the ice right now is a liability. I don’t want to screw over my team, but this is a giant step back. I’ve worked too fucking hard to come back this season in top form. “Shouldn’t Doc have the ultimate say about when I’m ready for the ice?”

“He will.”

“Good. I have physical therapy in twenty, and I want to make the most of it, so unless there’s anything else, I’m heading out.”

“We’re good here.”

I spend two hours in physical therapy, followed by a session with the massage therapist and acupuncturist while the rest of the team practices. I’m stiff, achy, and uncomfortable. My shoulder feels off, and my neck is sore.

After that, I run into Flip while I’m waiting for Roman. He looks like a bag of shit, and I’m probably the last person he wants to see, but he heads straight for me, anyway.

“Last night was my fault,” he says immediately. “I let Grace get under my skin, and I should know better. I’m sorry, man.”

I hold up a hand. “Your penalty isn’t the reason I’m injured.” It is a contributing factor, though.

“If I hadn’t been in the box, you might not have been on the ice,” he argues, determined to be the martyr.

“I was distracted.” Thanks to my ex showing up as a surprise. “New York exploited a weakness. Whatever the deal is with Grace, get your head around it so it doesn’t impact your game play in the future.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “That guy runs his mouth all the time.”

I nod. “You let it get to you. Block out the noise. Head down and focus on the game.”

“He just knows how to hit my Achilles’ heel. How long are you off the ice?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Hopefully only a week.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve had worse injuries.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but it comes out flat. This whole thing shakes me up. I don’t want to panic, but it echoes last year.

Roman and Tristan show up, and we get invited out for a bite, but I’m tired and uncomfortable, so I decline. Roman follows my lead, and we head to the parking garage.

He catches the careful way I slide into the passenger seat. “You feeling the hit?”

“Yeah. You know how it is the day after. That’s when things stiffen up.”

“Wanna hit the hot tub when we get home? Might help with recovery,” he suggests.

“Good idea.” I slide my phone out of my pocket and frown at the new messages. My ex is the last person I want to deal with.

“You get some news you don’t like?” Roman’s concern is genuine.

“Scarlet messaged.”

“Oh yeah? She’s in town filming for a while, isn’t she?”

“Apparently. It was news to me.” I stopped paying attention to Scarlet and her career when I was traded to Toronto.

“When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“It’s been some years.” Three, according to the timestamp on the last message she sent.

“What’s she saying?” Roman has no idea what happened with her, just that we dated, and our relationship ended when I moved here.

I give in and check the message. Avoiding her indefinitely will be difficult if she keeps showing up at my games.

Scarlet

I guess you know now that I’m in town. I’d planned to message before the game, but I lost my nerve. That was a rough hit you took. I hope you’re okay. ♥️ Maybe when you’re feeling up to it we could grab a drink and catch up.

“She wants to catch up, whatever that means.” Scarlet and I have a complicated and painful history that I’m not interested in revisiting. Her sudden reappearance in my life is unnerving. Especially considering how seeing her at the game took me out of it. Also, the way I woke up this morning—to Peggy sitting on the edge of my bed—adds another layer I don’t want to examine too closely.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Roman asks.

“Not since I left LA.” I made a point of never being available after an away game in LA, and she had a long-term boyfriend for several years, which made not seeing her easy. But they’ve since parted ways.

“Would it be so bad to grab a drink with her? It’s been a long time since you broke up. You’re both in different places in your lives. Might be cathartic to at least have a conversation instead of avoiding her while she’s in your city for the next few months. You’ll end up at the same place at the same time, eventually.”

I let my head fall against the seat rest, carefully. He has a point. Leaving her hanging will make it more awkward when we finally do run into each other. I look back down at my phone.

Hollis

Hey! Nice to hear from you. I’ll be watching the next few games from the bench, but otherwise I’m fine. How long are you in town filming?

I send it before I have time to reconsider and change the last sentence, which leaves it open for a response. But I slide the device back into my pocket, unwilling to continue the conversation right away. I don’t want to give her the wrong impression.

I feel like I already did that with Peggy this morning. I was out of it, convinced I must have been dreaming. It’s been happening a lot recently—Peggy infiltrating my dreams in non-PG scenarios. Especially since I found what I found in my bedroom. But it’s about more than my hormones. Sometimes I catch myself thinking about being with her in ways that are impossible. Innocuous as watching a movie together with her in my arms, or sometimes something more primal. I don’t know how to deal with the way things have changed between us. I don’t see her the way I used to before she started interning with Hemi for the team, and it’s messing with me. I wasn’t alert enough to stop myself from touching her the way I do in my subconscious. At least my brain came online before I did something really stupid.

“Hey, man. You okay over there?” Roman asks.

“Yeah. ’Sup?”

“We’re home.”

“Oh, shit.” We’re parked in his spot, next to my car.

After the hot tub, Roman invites me over for mac and cheese with him and Peggy, but I decline. It’s my turn to dodge and evade.

Watching the next game from the bench sucks. But at least we win. Once again, Scarlet is here, wearing a jersey with my name on the back. It’s a Saturday night, so when the guys suggest a club, I say yes. I’ve been cooped up for days, and I’m feeling more like myself again. I need to blow off a little steam.

We shower, change, and drop our vehicles at home, and then Roman, Tristan, Flip, Dallas, Ashish, and I take an Uber to one of the exclusive clubs downtown. According to Tristan, the ladies—which probably means Rix, Peggy, Shilpa, and Hemi—are already there.

“That’s the second game Scarlet’s been at in the past week,” Roman says on the way over.

“Yeah.” I already know where he’s going with this, and I’m not in the mood.

“Rix watched that show she was in all through high school,” Flip says.

“You mean The Way We Weren’t,” I offer grudgingly. It was a relief when the series finally ended and I didn’t have to see commercials for it anymore.

“That’s the one.”

“Really? Wasn’t that like a teen drama? She’s more of an action-flick kind of girl,” Tristan says, rubbing his bottom lip to hide a smile. “That’s what we watch together.”

“Fuck you. Wipe that look off your face.” Flip punches him in the arm.

“Ow! What the fuck? I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to. You’re wearing that smirk, and I know what it means.”

Tristan shrugs, smile still on his face. “It’s not my fault Bea picks action movies.”

“Stop talking or I’ll punch you in the balls.” Flip turns back to me. “She and Essie watched that show every damn week. Took over the living room and screeched their way through every freaking episode. We used to get into fights over it because she’d want to watch it while a game was on, and we only had one TV.”

“Peggy was the same about that show,” Roman says.

“Really?” I never saw her watch it. Although, when Peggy was a teen she was mostly awkward and quiet, or holed up in her bedroom if she wasn’t out with friends.

Roman shrugs. “There was a TV in the spare bedroom. She used to hang out there a lot when she hit her teen years. Scarlet was her favorite actress.”

“Huh.” It shouldn’t matter that Peggy loved that show or Scarlet as an actress. It also shouldn’t matter that I didn’t know, but for some reason, the whole thing bothers me. Since my accident last year, Peggy had started to confide in me a lot more, especially when I was stuck at home while the team traveled. But lately we’ve had a few uncomfortable interactions.

When we arrive at the club, we bypass the line and find the girls in the VIP section. They raise an assortment of glasses as we approach. Hemi is probably drinking sparkling water since she doesn’t let loose during the regular season. Shilpa sometimes indulges in a drink or two, depending on the night. Rix and Peggy, however, seem to have decided tonight is martini night. Peggy is built like an athlete and can usually hold her own just fine, but martinis have a narrow margin for error.

“Finally! Took you guys long enough!” Rix slides out of the booth, her martini sloshing perilously. She was wearing jeans and a jersey at the game, but she’s traded the jersey for a crop top.

Peggy slides out after her. She’s also undergone a wardrobe change, but hers is far more drastic. She was in jeans and a jersey, which I can deal with, especially since it hides her athletic body. But now she’s wearing strappy heels and a slinky black dress that rides high on her thighs and accentuates every toned curve she has. Her eyes are rimmed with black liner, making them pop, and her lips are a sinful glossy pink. It’s a real fucking problem that I notice how damn good she looks. It’s even more of a problem that I want to switch up my role as bodyguard on the dance floor tonight. I want to be the man who holds her tight against himself. Seeing her dressed like this makes me want to take her home and put her in my bed.

“Hi, Dado.” The heels mean she doesn’t have to push up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

He purses his lips. “Where did this dress come from?”

“A store.” She rolls her eyes. “And if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Her gaze shifts briefly to me, but her eyes don’t lift above my chin. “Hey, Hollis.” She pokes Roman in the chest. “We’re going to dance, and we don’t need bodyguards.” Not that it would matter because no one on the team would be ballsy enough to flirt with Roman Hammerstein’s daughter.

Hemi slides out of the booth. She’s wearing an ice-blue dress and matching heels, always representing the team. Hemi squeezes Roman’s shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Appreciate it,” Roman says.

Hemi points a manicured finger at Flip. “Please try not to make tomorrow a PR nightmare for me. I really don’t have time for it.”

He looks up from his phone. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“That’s my concern.” She flips Dallas the bird as she passes him.

“Always nice to see your beautiful smile, Willy.” Dallas is the only one who shortens Wilhelmina down to this instead of Hemi, probably because it annoys her.

“Eat your own dick, Dallas.” Hemi disappears into the pulsing crowd of bodies.

“Is it just me, or does she hate you more than usual this week?” Ash asks.

Dallas slides his hands into his pants pockets. “I feel like she’s warming up a little. Last week she told me she dreamed I contracted a case of genital herpes so severe my dick fell off. So telling me to eat it seems like a minor upgrade.”

“Wow. That’s a serious hate-on, isn’t it?”

Dallas nods. “Yeah, but there’s a fine line between love and hate, so maybe she’ll eventually get tired of hating me.”

Roman is still staring toward the dance floor, wearing a concerned frown.

I clap him on the shoulder. “She’ll be fine. And with Rix out there, Tristan will be on guard.”Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

We all look around for Tristan, but he’s gone, probably doing exactly what I said. Thank God. If I see someone put their hands on her, I’ll lose my fucking mind.

Roman blows out a breath. “I need a drink.”

We slide into the booth, and the dedicated bartender immediately appears to take our order. Dallas isn’t big on hard liquor, so he orders a pint.

This is the kind of club A-listers and sports figures frequent to avoid being swarmed by hordes of adoring, and sometimes overzealous, fans. I’m halfway through my scotch on the rocks when I spot Scarlet. She’s with a costar who looks familiar.

“Did you post on socials?” I ask Flip.

“Yeah, why?” His gaze follows mine. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit is right,” I mutter as her friend points in our direction and a wide smile breaks across Scarlet’s face. I guess if I have to see her, it’s better that I’m with friends and in a public place.

“You still interested in her?” Flip asks as she approaches.

I shoot him a look.

“Is that a no or a yes?”

I don’t have time to respond, because she’s right in front of us.

“Hi! Hey! I wondered if you’d be out tonight!” she shouts over the music.

I don’t want to be a rude asshole, so I slide out of the booth to greet her. “Hey. How are you?”

She’s stunning. That hasn’t changed. But based on the way my stomach is roiling, I’m still not cool with the way things ended between us all those years ago.

“I’m good. It’s so good to see you.” Her eyes move over me in an appreciative way, and her expression turns coy.

I used to find it sexy, but now I feel nothing.

“You look great.” Her hands settle on my chest, and she kisses my cheek.

“You too.” I awkwardly pat her back and am grateful when she stops touching me.

It doesn’t last long, though. She grabs my forearm, expression earnest. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. I just…I’ve wanted to talk for such a long time.”

Ripping the Band-Aid off is the best way around this. “We were bound to run into each other, eventually.”

“Especially with me watching you on the ice. Will you be back in the game soon?”

“Hopefully.” God, this is awkward. “Why don’t I introduce you to my teammates?”

“Oh! Yes! Please.” She grabs her friend’s arm. “And this is Candice Claymore. We’re working together on a new movie.”

“I’ve heard all about you,” Candice says. “It’s so great to finally meet you.” I’m not sure I want to read too much into her smirk.

“It’s great to meet you, too.” My voice is wooden.

A round of introductions follows, and Flip, being Flip, tries to flirt with both of them. But Scarlet can’t be bothered, and Candice seems more interested in Dallas, whose focus is on the dance floor, rather than her.

Scarlet pretty much glues herself to my side, asking how I’ve been, what I’m up to, if I’m dating anyone. The conversation feels stilted and uncomfortable. Not for the first time tonight, I find my mind and gaze wandering.

Eventually Rix, Hemi, and Peggy return to the table with Tristan in tow, glowering like he’s ready to commit murder. Shilpa and Ashish might still be out there. No one exists outside of their bubble of two when they’re on the dance floor together.

Hemi grabs Peggy’s arm and leans in to say something. Suddenly her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. She lifts her hand to cover it as she scans the table. Rix notices Scarlet and latches on to Peggy’s other arm. There’s squealing from Rix, and Hemi is all smiles.

I expect Peggy to have a similar reaction after what Roman said, but her gaze locks on Scarlet’s hand, which is currently resting on my forearm. Her legs are crossed, and she’s leaning into me, which means her foot brushes my shin.

The sudden wave of guilt is jarring and unexpected. Peggy is as off-limits as it gets. I can’t afford to have feelings about the expression on her face. But my chest still twists uncomfortably at the flash of hurt.

Telling her it’s okay to use my place for privacy when I’m out of town feels like a line I can’t uncross. So was putting my hands on her when she was in my bedroom the other morning. And the fact that I can’t stop thinking about her is its own problem.

“Scarlet, that’s my daughter, Peggy, in the middle. She’s a huge fan.” Roman motions to the girls.

Scarlet’s eyes flare. “Daughter?”

“I was a hormonal teenager. Well, her mom and I were both hormonal teenagers who didn’t read the fine print on combining birth control pills and antibiotics. Best oopsie-daisy ever, though.” Roman smiles fondly at Peggy.

Scarlet presses her hand to her chest. “Aww… I love that you’re out together. That’s so fun.”

“Peggy probably feels a bit differently about that.”

Hemi and Rix flank Peggy, each holding one arm as they drag her forward. Her eyes are wide, and the color has drained from her face.

Scarlet slides out of the booth and grabs my hand, pulling me with her. “Introduce me!”

I wipe my damp hands on my pants. “Scarlet, this is Hemi Reddi-Grinst, our team PR liaison.”

“It’s so lovely to meet you!” They shake hands.

“I love all the charities you support! I’m such a fan of your team promotion,” Scarlet gushes.

Hemi, forever poised, graciously accepts the compliment.

“This is Beatrix Madden, Flip’s sister. She’s a financial planner, but she also preps meals for a few of us on the team. She’s a wizard at creating a balanced diet, and we’re lucky to have her,” I say.

“Oh, I love that! That’s amazing!” Scarlet says.

Rix flushes and waves the compliment away. “It’s something I do for fun on the side. It’s so great to meet you. I’m a huge fan. Like, so huge. I’m trying to keep it together, but it’s a struggle. You’d think having all these hockey stars around would desensitize a girl, but apparently not.”

Scarlet laughs. “Oh, I get it! I almost fainted when I met my unicorn actor last year at the awards.”

“We all have a unicorn, don’t we?” Rix and Scarlet share a laugh.

I swallow past the enormous lump in my throat as I make the final introduction. “And this is Peggy, Roman’s daughter.” I don’t know what’s going on with me, but this whole situation is beyond uncomfortable.

“Hammer. I’m Hammer. Most people call me Hammer except for my dad’s side of the family,” she corrects.

“Oh! Like Hammer, short for Hammerstein, because you grew up surrounded by hockey players?” Scarlet asks.

“Basically, yeah.” Peggy’s eyes dart to where Scarlet is petting my arm. “Didn’t you and Hollis used to date?”

Scarlet’s eyes flare in surprise, but she recovers quickly. “We did.” She slides her arm through mine and leans her cheek on my biceps. “But I was young and stupid and didn’t realize what a good thing I had. He’s the one who got away.”

“And now you’re here. In Toronto. And so is he.” Peggy’s voice is almost robotic.

This couldn’t be more awkward.

“I am.” Her smile turns soft and hopeful. “It feels a lot like fates aligned.”

“Yeah. Definitely.” Peggy keeps nodding, her smile tight in a way only I would notice as she adds, “Especially since you’re both single and ready to mingle.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking this guy off the market again.” Scarlet squeezes my arm.

Or maybe it can get more awkward. I’m about to say something to end this moment when I catch Hemi’s eye.

Hemi looks from me, to Scarlet, to Peggy, whose smile is so stiff it could be super-glued to her lips. “I need to use the ladies’ room. Hammer, come with.” Hemi threads her arm through Peggy’s. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment. It was so nice to meet you, Scarlet. I hope we’ll be seeing you at another game soon.”

“Oh definitely. I plan to attend as many as I can.”

“Great.” Hemi does a finger-curl wave and guides Peggy toward the bathroom.

Rix cringes and turns to Scarlet. “She was really excited to meet you. And nervous. You’re totally her unicorn.” She rushes after the girls.

Scarlet gives me a knowing smile. “I think someone might have a bit of a crush on you.”

I laugh, but I feel like I’m going to vomit. “Peggy’s basically family.”

She pats my chest. “To you, maybe. How old is she?”

“Twenty.” Almost twenty-one. Not that her being twenty-one will change how inappropriate it is for me to have dreams about her. Especially the most recent ones.

She bites her lip. “That’s how old I was when we started dating. I was so stupid to let you go.”

“We were young.” That horrible lump in my throat keeps growing. “And you were right, it couldn’t have worked. We live on opposite ends of the country.”

“Hindsight, though.” Her smile turns soft and apologetic. “I regret the way I handled things.”

“It’s water under the bridge.” It’s not really. What happened with Scarlet had a ripple effect that’s framed my relationships. Only once in the past seven years have I been involved with a woman for more than a handful of months. Like all the rest, that one went up in flames, too. It just hurt a little more.

She tips her head. “Is it, though?”

“It was a long time ago, Scarlet.”

“Maybe we could go for coffee. I’d love a chance to apologize. I know I hurt you.”

“I have away games coming up.” I’m all about avoiding painful conversations, especially with my head all over the place and my career feeling unsteady.

“When you get back, then. I’m here for a few months.” She squeezes my arm. “Just think about it, okay?” She kisses me on the cheek, and she and Candice excuse themselves since they have an early morning on set.

Shilpa and Ash stop at the table. “Am I seeing things, or were you just talking to Scarlet Reed and Candice Claymore?” Shilpa asks.

“You’re not seeing things.” I down the rest of my scotch.

“Was she invited or did she just show up?” Shilpa’s a little too good at reading people.

“She showed up.”

She hums but doesn’t comment further.

“We meeting up for morning yoga tomorrow?” Ashish asks.

“Yeah.” I grudgingly added it to my routine after my physical therapist and chiropractor both suggested it.

“Excellent. I’ll come your way.” He squeezes Shilpa’s arm, which is laced through his. “Ready to go, my love?”

“I am.” She kisses him on the cheek.

They say good night and leave arm in arm. Sometimes I’m jealous of their easy bond. They’re always so wrapped in each other, like the world outside their cosmos is inconsequential. The girls return a few minutes later to tell us they’re heading home. Surprisingly, Flip doesn’t pick anyone up tonight. Maybe he’s turning a new leaf. The four of us grab an Uber home.

“What was up with Hammer tonight? She seemed off,” Tristan says.

“I thought so, too.” Roman wears his concerned-dad expression. “Maybe starstruck?”

“Probably. Rix said she nearly peed her pants,” Tristan offers.

“Makes sense since she’s her favorite actress,” Flip adds.

I stay quiet.

On the way up to the penthouse floor, Roman crosses his arms. “Scarlet seemed happy to see you.”

“Yeah.”

“She ask to see you again?”

I rub my bottom lip and nod.

“You should go. Things are different now, Holl. She’s older, more mature, and so are you.”

I sigh. “There’s a reason it didn’t work the first time around.” And someone who shouldn’t be taking up space in my head is currently living there rent free.

“Because you were both basically kids. At least have coffee with her. Clear the air. Let go of some of the baggage you’ve been carrying around all these years. You haven’t had a serious relationship since her. That must mean something.”

I rub the space between my eyes. “Yeah, that I’m not a fan of heartbreak.”

“Just think about it, Hollis. You deserve happiness and to have someone in your life. Maybe she’s that someone.”

I don’t think she is, but the person I can’t stop dreaming about isn’t someone I can be with either. “Maybe.”