Page 3 of I Could Be Yours (The Toronto Terror #6)

“You were with me on a beverage run. You wouldn’t have had time.” Tristan stands to give me a brotherly back pat as he pulls me in close and whispers, “Everything okay?”

“All good. Just hit traffic.” I slide into the seat next to Essie, which is the only one available.

The server stops at the table and takes our drink order.

“Did you sort everything out?” Essie asks Rix. “Nate said you had some kind of emergency. Was it wedding related? You know you can always offload stuff to me. I’m here to help.”

“It was work related,” Rix explains. “It’s fine now. ”

Tristan stretches his arm across the back of her seat. “If it’s too much, you can always reduce your hours, Bea.”

Her full name is Beatrix, and he’s the only one who shortens it to this.

She smiles up at him. “I know. I have it under control.”

He purses his lips. Tristan would love for Rix to quit her job.

He and Flip are pro hockey players with the Toronto Terror, our local team, and both have multimillion-dollar contracts.

But Rix and Flip grew up in a house where it was tough to make ends meet.

Rix is used to taking care of herself financially, and she wants the autonomy, which I can respect, even if it means she’s spread a little thin right now.

She kisses the edge of his jaw. “Put your serious face away. We’re planning all the fun stuff tonight.”

His expression softens. “I can’t wait until you’re my wife.”

“I can’t wait until you’re my husband.”

“You two are so cute!” Essie takes a picture.

“Almost as cute as me, right, Ess?” Flip winks.

Essie laughs and holds her fingers a hairsbreadth apart. “They’re this much cuter than you.”

I try not to let my feelings show, but for some stupid reason, I seriously want to punch Flip in the face.

The server returns with my vodka and soda and Essie’s Aperol spritz.

“We already put in an order for all of our favorites,” Rix informs us.

It’s a tapas-style restaurant, and everything is made for sharing.

Essie’s eyes light up. “Did you get the tempura cauliflower?”

“Of course.” Rix smiles.

“I’m so excited.” Essie does some weird thing with her hands and bumps my arm. Her fingers brush my wrist. “Sorry.” She snatches her hand away. “Okay, should we get down to business?”

“I would get down to business with you any day,” Flip quips .

“Oh my God, stop flirting with my best friend.” Rix flicks his ear.

“You’re marrying mine,” he reminds her, then turns back to Essie.

“Sorry, Flip, but you’re at the bottom of my list.” She flashes him a coy smile.

“Come on, Ess. I’ve changed. You could be the one for me.”

Essie laughs and rolls her eyes. “We all know you prefer blondes.” She pulls a binder and a tablet out of her purse and sets them on the table beside her. She props up the tablet and opens a spreadsheet.

“What is that?” I’m equally thankful that Flip has stopped flirting with her for five fucking seconds and annoyed that I give a shit.

Flip and I have become good friends since I moved into his place last fall, but he’s no better with relationships than I am. I don’t want him making moves on Essie and finding out how good her lips taste.

“It’s how I keep track of everything,” Essie explains. “You have access. Everyone does. I email whenever I update it with pertinent details.”

“Oh.” I pull my phone out and open my personal email, which admittedly, I don’t check as often as I should.

I have thirty new emails, four of which are from Essie with spreadsheet updates.

I click on one, and the sheet pops up on my phone.

It’s color coded, and there are different tabs, sections, and even dropdown menus.

“Should we discuss the bridal shower first? Since that’s next weekend and it’s co-ed?” Essie asks brightly.

“Sounds good,” Rix agrees.

Tristan kisses her temple.

I have no idea what a co-ed bridal shower is, so I keep my mouth shut.

“The whole team has RSVP’d, and almost everyone is bringing a plus-one,” Essie reports. “Kodiak and Lavender send their regrets, but I’m pleased to report that Lavender can make our girls-only party, and they can make the wedding.”

“That’s good news,” Tristan says.

“Lavender is so fun!” Rix is all smiles.

Kodiak Bowman, my brother, and Flip all went to the Hockey Academy together before they turned pro. Kodiak plays for New York now, and they’ve remained friends all these years.

“Oh, and I have confirmation from both of your families, including aunts and uncles, that they can attend the shower as well.” Essie flips to the guest list tab.

I’m suddenly on alert. Maybe the phone calls that seemed to come from nowhere aren’t so out of left field. But Tristan would have said something before now. “What do you mean both of our families?”

Tristan holds up a hand. “Mom is excluded, don’t worry.” It’s probably the hundredth time he’s had to reassure me. “I don’t want that drama. Especially with Dad finally dating.”

It’s only been a few months since my dad started seeing someone. Her name is Sophia, and she’s a lot younger than he is. I’ve met her once, briefly. She seems nice enough, even if she is closer to Tristan’s age than my dad’s. They met at the Toronto Terror fundraiser gala in the spring.

“Right. Okay.” Heat works its way up my neck and wraps around my ears. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Rix’s tone softens with empathy.

I’d love to be over my mother abandoning our family, but unfortunately I’m not.

One day she was there, and the next she was gone.

For a couple of years she called on birthdays, but eventually she just…

ghosted us. Then last year when our younger brother Brody graduated high school, suddenly she wanted to be involved again.

Dad and Tristan shut that down. Thank fucking God.

I couldn’t handle her coming back into our lives on top of the breakup with Lisa.

I tune back in to the conversation, which Essie is once again dominating. I wish I didn’t find it attractive that she’s so adept at creating spreadsheets and organizing events. But I do love order and organization.

“As requested, it’s a no-gifts shower, but attendees are welcome to donate to the Food for Kids program or Supplies for Success.

I’m happy to report that more than fifty filled backpacks have been donated, and you’ve already raised over four thousand dollars for Food for Kids.

” Essie turns her tablet to Rix and Tristan, where the total is highlighted at the bottom.

“That’s incredible. Thank you so much for setting that up!” Rix smiles at Tristan. “Isn’t that great?”

“It’s fantastic.” He kisses her temple. Again.

Essie waves the comment away. “It was just a couple of phone calls and emails with links. It was no big deal.”

I frown at her easy dismissal, and the fact that I’ve had no part in any of this. I scroll down the list and discover there are actual formulas in the spreadsheet.

“Don’t downplay it, Ess. You really went above and beyond,” Flip adds.

I refrain from commenting. I’ve been over here planning the bachelor party and slacking on everything else, it seems. And here’s Little Miss Sunshine and Rainbows making pretty spreadsheets.

I can make a fucking spreadsheet. With formulas.

I do it all the time. She’s not the only organizational wizard at the table.

The server arrives with appetizers. He must ask Essie three times if he can get her anything else, to which she always replies with a no thank you and a smile.

We hit pause on the planning and pass the plates around.

Essie taps her lip, surveying her plate and the ones scattered around the table.

“What are you missing? I can give you whatever you need, Ess,” Flip offers.

“I’m good.” She bites back a smile. “Nate, can you pass the cauliflower?”

“Oh come on, Ess.” Flip waves a hand in my direction. “This guy doesn’t even believe in love! Why would you look to him to fulfill your needs when I’m right here?”

“Keep me out of your flirting. I’m not looking to be part of your throuple,” I grumble and stab some potato-poof thing.

“Am I not good to you, honey bear?” Flip winks at me.

I scratch my temple with my middle finger.

“Okay. Back to business.” Essie looks expectantly at me.

“What?”

“Please pass the cauliflower.”

“Right.” I hand them to her.

Her fingers graze mine, and the hairs on my arm rise.

She takes three pieces and passes them to Flip, who takes one while eyeing it with skepticism.

The guy would live on KD—Kraft Dinner—if Rix didn’t drop off meals for him twice a week.

On top of being an accountant, she’s also a full-time student and develops meal plans for my brother, her brother, and some of their Terror teammates.

Essie continues to lead this dinner meeting by reviewing all the food, games, and decorations for the bridal shower.

“Do you have a rough estimate for the cost per person?” Rix asks.

“Whatever it is, I’ll cut a check,” Tristan assures her.

“I can figure it out for you right now.” Essie glances at the totals while setting up a new formula. “Roughly eighty-seven dollars a person based on food and drink,” she says before she’s even had a chance to complete the formula. She highlights the row, the total appearing.

I had no idea Essie was math smart. I also had no idea I’d be attending a bridal shower.

Since I haven’t looked at Essie’s emails, I can’t make any valuable contributions, and asking questions will only highlight my complete lack of involvement.

So I just sit here and continue to be annoyingly impressed with her attention to detail, exceptional organizational skills, and ability to run numbers in her head.

I feel like I’ve underestimated her—not just now, but in the past—and that bothers me for a lot of reasons.