Page 24 of I Could Be Yours (The Toronto Terror #6)

NATE

E ssie is in front of me, applying her lip gloss.

Do not think about the blow job you got in Vegas last weekend .

It’s too late, though. She’s already drawn attention to those gorgeous, luscious, talented lips, and the head in my pants is waking up. I make a noise in the back of my throat. She smiles coyly.

She clearly does this on purpose. Which also begs the question, how long has she known about the effect that lip gloss and her mouth have on me? That’s a conversation for later.

Essie lifts her carry-on into a bin, then follows with her oversized purse before passing through the sensors. They ding, and the security guy on the other side waves his wand over her. It lights up when it passes her chest and again when it dips below her waist. She seems completely unfazed.

I, on the other hand, am remembering all the little moans and sighs and gasps that tumbled from her lips when I sucked on her pretty little pierced nipples and clit.

“Does Essie have body jewelry?” Flip asks from behind me.

“Shut the fuck up,” I mutter as I toss my phone and jacket in a bin .

The security guy across from me frowns. “Excuse me?”

Flip jumps in. “Hopefully the pretty one doesn’t hold us all up.” He tips his head toward Essie.

Security guy nods, his expression slightly wistful. “Looks like a full pat-down.”

I want to punch him in the face. But I want a criminal record less, and I want to go to Aruba more, so I force a smile.

Essie has been pulled off to the side. Based on her expression, this isn’t the first time this has happened.

She’s lost her cropped sweatshirt and is wearing a pale pink tank.

And no bra, which means I, and every single other person passing by, can clearly see the outline of her pierced nipples.

Our eyes lock briefly as the female security guard makes a pass under her breasts.

I look away before my body reacts in a way that will be embarrassing in the middle of airport security.

“Pierced nipples, huh?” Flip says.

“She dated a tattoo artist,” I grumble.

“I guess that tracks.”

“What’s going on with Essie?” Tristan asks.

“She sets off the sensors every time,” Rix explains.

He frowns. “She have a surgery or something?”

“Or something.” Rix pats him on the chest.

Several security guards are now gathered around Essie, smiling and laughing. She finally gets the all clear and heads for our group, but her bag isn’t waiting for her on the belt. Apparently, it’s not Essie’s day, because that’s been pulled for additional screening.

“Seriously? I get felt up and they get to see all my lingerie?” She rolls her eyes and heads for the guy going through her bag. “You don’t have to wait,” she calls over her shoulder. “I can just meet you in the lounge.”

“We’re not going anywhere without you,” Rix replies.

We move to the side. Despite all the guys wearing nondescript baseball caps, people have started to recognize them. I keep my eye on Essie. The security guy’s face grows progressively redder as he sifts through pink lace. Which I hope I get to peel off her body this week.

The security dude holds up a ratty, saggy stuffed…something. It’s hard to tell since it’s been so well loved. “What’s inside this? Are there drugs in here? Are you concealing a weapon?”

“Oh my God, no. It’s a fake heart!”

He calls someone else over, and that guy reaches for a pair of scissors.

“Jeez! You don’t need to hack Catalina apart!” Essie’s voice goes high and reedy. “There’s a Velcro opening, on her back below her head.”

“Is that a stuffed animal?” Flip asks as he passes a hat back to one of the growing number of fans who recognize the Terror players.

“It’s Catalina. I got it for her after her cat died when we were in grade five,” Rix explains.

“I remember that. You bought it with your newspaper money, right?” Flip replies.

“Yeah. She loved that cat. She was devastated. Essie always brings Catalina on trips. Don’t be dicks about it.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Flip says defensively. “It’s sweet.”

I shoot him a look. He widens his eyes.

I return my gaze to Essie, who’s now hugging her ratty stuffed cat to her chest with one arm and trying to repack her bag with the other. Rix goes over to help her.

We finally clear out of the security area, and they rush us through customs because we’re causing a ruckus as the guys collect another crowd.

Once again, we board and take up the majority of first class, except this time we all have pods, so there’s no need to play musical chairs. Five hours later, we land and take a private bus to our resort.

Essie and I join Rix and Tristan at the concierge desk so we can help get everyone checked in .

“We have a room block under Stiles,” Tristan informs the young woman behind the desk.

Rix wraps her arms around Tristan’s waist. “It’s for our wedding.”

“Congratulations. How exciting.” The woman smiles politely and returns her attention to the screen in front of her. But that smile stiffens. “Can you just excuse me for a moment?” Her heels clip on the tile floor as she pulls a man aside and they have a hushed conversation.

“Do you think something’s wrong? What if something is wrong?” Rix asks nervously.

“Everything’s fine, little Bea.” Tristan rubs his nose against hers.

“Tristan! Hey, man, I just got your text!” Connor Grace, another Terror player, crosses the lobby. “I’m glad you made it.”

He’s wearing golf shorts and a collared golf shirt, tattoos I’ve never seen before on display. Usually he’s in a suit or hockey uniform, and they’re all covered up.

“Hey! I didn’t realize you were going to be here this early.” Tristan fist bumps him.

“I brought my Meems here for a little holiday,” he explains.

Rix tips her head. “Meems?”

“My grandma,” Connor explains.

“That’s so sweet,” Rix replies.

From the other side of the lobby, I spot Flip with Hollis and Roman, wearing a frown.

Connor and Flip do not get along, thanks to old beef from their Hockey Academy days. But they’ve been at each other’s throats less since they had a come-to-Jesus talk at the end of last season. I wouldn’t call them friends, but they tolerate each other.

The gentleman and the woman return, both wearing awkward smiles. “Mr. Stiles, we have a small issue.”

“What kind of issue?” Connor asks.

The gentleman startles. “Mr. Grace, I’m so sorry. How can I be of service? ”

“It’s Connor, and I don’t need anything right now. I’m just welcoming my friends.”

“Your friends.” The man smiles and swallows compulsively.

“There seems to be an issue with the booking. We have some important guests with us.” The guy looks like he wants to sink into the ground as his gaze darts to Connor for a moment.

“And we won’t have rooms for you until—” He clicks on his screen. “—Friday.”

“That’s three days from now!” Rix looks like she’s two seconds from crying.

“It’ll be okay, Rix. We’ll get it sorted out.” Essie rubs her arm.

“What if it isn’t, though? What if we have to find another place to stay?”

“There are plenty of hotels around here, Bea. Palace on the Beach is right next door.”

“But it’s so expensive,” she whispers.

Essie sidles up next to me. “What are we going to do?”

“Give me a minute.” Connor touches my shoulder, then nods at the slightly manic guy behind the counter.

“Doesn’t Connor’s family own a bunch of hotels?” I ask.

Essie nods. “Maybe he’s pulling some strings?”

“Here’s hoping.” I glance around the lush, opulent space. Tristan has mentioned that Connor comes from money, but I don’t think I realized exactly how wealthy they were until this moment.

Connor whispers something to the woman. She smiles and nods. He then ushers the very nervous man into a room.

The woman turns her attention back to us. “Just give us a few minutes. We’ll bring you some complimentary champagne while you wait.”

She rushes off, and I fully expect her to never come back, but she returns a minute later with a server in tow, a tray of glasses, and two bottles of expensive bubbly.

I know it’s expensive because I bought a bottle for my one-and-a-half-year anniversary with Lisa.

She broke up with me a few weeks later .

“See, Rixie? Everything will be fine. Look how beautiful it is here. We can sleep on the beach, if we need to.” Essie passes Rix a glass of champagne.

“Everything will be fine,” Rix repeats then takes a hefty gulp.

They’ve just finished passing out the champagne when Connor and the gentleman come out of the office.

Connor approaches Tristan. “My Meems is waiting on me, so I gotta run, but Harold here will take care of you. I’ll touch base later, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Tristan frowns as Connor rushes off, then turns back to Harold.

“We’re so very sorry for the misunderstanding.

We’ve upgraded your stay, and you’ll be at our sister hotel next door.

You’ll have all the amenities included in your original package with the addition of butler service, access to a private pool for you and your guests, and daily in-room massages or other spa services, if you prefer. ”

Rix’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of her head. “You don’t mean the Palace on the Beach, do you?”

“That’s correct, ma’am. Unless there’s another location you would prefer?”

“But it’s twice as expensive,” she whispers.

“The upgrade is on us. We’re so sorry for the inconvenience, but we hope this makes up for any undue stress.” He looks like he might need a drink after this.

“Yeah. Yes. This absolutely makes up for it.” Rix’s shoulders come down from her ears. “Oh my gosh. We’re staying at my dream hotel!”

Essie bumps her shoulder. “I told you it would all work out.”

“You did. You told me that.”

“We’ll have your bags brought to your rooms,” Harold continues. “In the meantime, we’ll escort you over so you can have a look around. How does that sound?”

“Great! It sounds great.” Rix is practically vibrating.

“There’s just one thing.” Harold makes a face .

“What one thing?” Tristan asks.