Page 9 of If You Need Me

“No,” I say quickly. “I am bringing a date.”

Dallas snaps his fingers. “That guy you went out with the other day? After the shelter promo?”

Hammer snorts a laugh and tries to cover it with a cough.

“No. Not that guy. But I’ll have a date. I am bringingsomeone to the reunion.” If I say it enough times, I will manifest a date into existence.

“We could go together,” Dallas says—like it’s the best idea he’s ever had, like he hasn’t totally fucked me over in the past. Need I mention Canada Day post grade eight graduation? He and his friend used my bike to do tricks then flipped it into the lake behind his parents’ house. I had to save up for a year to buy a new one. It was preferable to my brothers going after Dallas and his friends, which would have only made my life harder.

At my lack of response, Dallas adds, “We can even drive up together.”

I would rather eat sand than deal with Dallas and his buddies all weekend.

“That’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive, isn’t it? Hemi will murder you before you get there.” Hollis’s gaze jumps between us. “And while my girlfriend is great at her job, we still need Hemi in the office and not behind bars.”

“Hollis is right. I can’t go to prison. Orange is not my color.” I smooth my hands over my blue dress pants.

And Dallas is not to be trusted. I learned that the hard way, and I’ve never forgotten.

CHAPTER 5

DALLAS

“You and Hemi grew up in the Muskokas, right?” Tristan Stiles, who plays right wing for the Terror, asks. He’s dating Rix Madden, his best friend Flip Madden’s younger sister. Flip is also our teammate.

We’re at the Watering Hole, our favorite local pub. The owners love us, and the people who frequent the place mostly treat us like we’re just regular folk. It’s a lot easier in the offseason, although having won the finals this year makes us more popular than usual.

“We’re on Lake Vernon. It’s in a small town a couple hours north of here. Although it’s become a popular retirement location, so it’s growing.” People will buy a piece of property on the lake and spend their spring, summer, and fall in the quiet there, then defect to warmer climates during the coldest months.

That Flip and Tristan were also born and raised in Ontario and play for an Ontario team is pretty rare. We all started our careers playing in other provinces or states, but there’s something special about being able to play for our home team.

“Do you still talk to any of the people you grew up with?” Flip asks.

I shrug. “Sure. When I visit my family, I’ll message to see ifmy high school buddies are around.” Some of my friends went straight into a job, often working with their dads’ small businesses in construction or landscaping. Small-town life can be like that. People like the familiarity of faces and the comfort that comes with a tight-knit community.

I went away to university, though mostly to play hockey and not because I’m an academic genius, and I also spent a couple of summers at the Hockey Academy. That’s where I met Tristan and Flip, as well as Flip’s archnemesis, Connor Grace, who plays for New York. We clocked a lot of hours on the ice, and it didn’t leave much time for socializing outside of my teammates. The guys I play with have become like family over the years. They’re my support system, along with my family back home.

I’m looking forward to seeing old classmates again this summer. It’s nice to hang out with people who knew me before the hockey fame. Although back then, I was the best player on the team, and that came with its own notoriety.

Regardless, I can see myself wanting to settle back in Huntsville when I retire from the league. I’ve already invested in a piece of property on the lake. It’s the perfect place to raise kids and get a couple of rescue dogs. But I’ve got years left in this career, and I plan to enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

“What was Hemi like growing up?” Tristan asks.

“The same as she is now. She was president of the debate team and the student council, and she ran the social justice and diversity and equity committee. She had a small group of friends she hung around with.” Hemi has always been an intense, passionate person. She’s all-in, one-hundred-and-ten percent, one-hundred-and-ten percent of the time. That’s what makes her such a force in her role with the Terror. She’s pretty amazing. But in the land of teenagers, being the smart, nerdy girl who didn’t back down and always stood up for what she believed in, even if it went against the grain—especially then—didn’t always win her points with the popular crowd. Which I was part of.

“That best friend of hers sounded like a real piece of work,” Ash notes as he sips his pop.

“Brooklyn was more like a frenemy than an actual best friend.”

“Who’s Brooklyn?” Tristan asks.

Ash gives him the abridged version of the conversation we had in Willy’s office.

Tristan’s brow pulls together. “Why does Hemi even want to go?”

I glance over at Willy. She’s sitting with the girls in one of the big round booths, laughing and smiling. She looks gorgeous, as usual. “She probably wants to prove she’s above all the bullshit. Willy doesn’t shy away from uncomfortable situations. Never show weakness is her motto.” The anxiety boner last week was a new low in our relationship. I can’t believe I pulled her into the bathroom with me and my hard-on. I’m surprised she didn’t freak out more.

I doubt she’d be impressed with me if she knew how many times I’ve accidentally imagined her angry, sultry voice in my ear during my morning shower-and-whack-off routine.

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