Page 33 of I Could Be Yours (The Toronto Terror #6)

NATE

W e find a table and order a round of drinks. From where we’re seated, Sam and Isaac are dots leading the way up the never-ending stairs to doom. Chase and Brody are already lagging.

“You seem level, Tristan,” Dad notes after the server drops off our beers.

“Yeah. Getting Bea to take some time off before the wedding to relax has been great for both of us. I can’t wait for tomorrow.

I’m so ready to make Bea my wife and start this life with her.

” Tristan taps on the table. “I mean, I know we’re already doing that since we live together, but getting married makes it feel…

more permanent. Like we’re making that commitment not just to each other, but to everyone we care about. ”

Dad smiles. “Rix is good for you. You’re the happiest I’ve seen you since…well, in a long, long time.”

We know what he means. Before Mom left we were different. Life with her wasn’t easy, but neither was life without her. The way she left messed us all up. I thought I had relationships figured out with Lisa, but then she left, too.

“Aren’t you afraid it could all just disappear?” The words are out before I think them through. “Shit. Sorry. Ignore me. ”

Tristan meets my gaze, empathy all over his face. “Fucking terrified, brother.”

“But you still want to take that risk.” I’ve shut down the conversation when he’s brought this up before, but if I can learn his secret, maybe I can make it work with Essie.

Maybe when we’re back in Toronto I can ask her out on a real date and see where this goes. Maybe she’s worth being scared for.

He nods. “My life is better when Bea is in it. I’m a better person with her. Don’t get me wrong, it’s scary as hell to fall in love. But once I stopped fighting all the feelings, falling was easy. The hard part was not sabotaging myself.”

“How did you stop that from happening?” Even if Essie takes a chance on me, I could fuck it all up. I’ve done it before. I need to figure out how to keep it from happening again.

“The first couple of times I failed.” Tristan’s jaw tics.

“But every time I shut down on Bea, I caused her pain. The worst part was, at the time, I didn’t even realize what I was doing.

I was so focused on myself and my own feelings that I couldn’t take her’s into account the way I needed to.

I put up walls because I didn’t know what to do with my feelings for her.

They were too much, and I was overwhelmed. ”

“But you fixed it, right?” I’m desperate for some kind of magic recipe for relationship success.

“Yeah, with a lot of self-reflection and therapy.”

“But then you have to talk about the bad stuff.” Essie offered to listen, but I took her up on a distraction instead. Because talking about my mom hurts, and sex with Essie does not.

“Yup, and it absolutely sucked at the beginning. The first few sessions were rough, especially when I realized how tough I’d made things for Bea, and how I was damaging our relationship by avoiding the difficult things.

I broke a few hockey sticks working out my feelings.

But Bea and I made a lot of progress, and that made it easier to keep going. ” Tristan’s voice is raw with emotion .

“So it’s not as hard now?” I should stop digging at these wounds, his and mine and Dad’s, but I want what Tristan has.

“Most of the time, yeah. Bea and I both have bad days, but we work through them.”

He’s so sure in his conviction that Bea’s worth the pain. He believes in her, and she believes in him. Could I handle therapy if it meant someone as kind and full of love and light as Essie could be mine?

Dad’s eyes bounce between us. “I should have made you boys talk to someone when you were younger.”

“You did. I lasted one session. I told her to go fuck herself, and then I told you to do the same.” Tristan takes a long pull of his beer.

“I should have made you try again,” Dad presses.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Dad.” Tristan shakes his head. “I doubt I would have gotten much out of therapy as a teenager. I was too wrapped up in being angry.”

“You might have been less angry.” Dad looks down at the table, posture stiff. “I know I haven’t been the best relationship role model.”

“We were all just trying to survive,” Tristan says, tone gentle. “You were raising three boys on your own.”

“I had a lot of help,” he says pointedly.

“That kept me out of trouble for the most part. Plus, look at how close we are.” Tristan ruffles my hair. “My genius brother’s my best man. My little bro is probably going to steal my spot on my team in a couple of years. It all worked out the way it was supposed to.”

“I’m proud of you. Both of you.” Dad motions to the cliff. “And the one out there making questionable decisions.” He squints. “Where the heck are they?”

“They’re at the top.” They’re impossible to miss. Sam and Isaac are both massive, and Brody and Chase, while still holding on to the narrowness of youth, are tall and muscular .

Chase approaches the edge and immediately steps back and puts his hands on his thighs.

Brody runs his hand through his hair. Isaac and Sam do some knee bends.

Sam steps up first, runs to the end of the diving board, and does some wild flip-twist-somersault as he flies through the air.

He lands in the water with a graceful splash and pops up a few seconds later, fist pumping.

“Wow. That’s…wow,” Dad says.

“The guy goes on twenty-kilometer hikes for shits and giggles,” Tristan explains.

Sam climbs out of the water on our side of the bay and shouts something that gets lost in the wind.

Chase is up next. He looks a lot more apprehensive.

He walks to the end of the board, makes the sign of the cross, and jumps.

He looks like a terrified dart as he plummets feet first into the water.

When he pops out he’s gasping for air. He coughs and sputters and slaps the waves, awkwardly swimming to Sam who cheers him on.

As soon as he’s on the ladder, he vomits into the water.

Me, Dad, and Tristan exchange looks.

“I hope Brody fares better.” But I have my doubts.

We all turn back and watch as our brother steps up. He’s stoic, assessing the jump. Even from here I can sense his unease.

Tristan frowns. “He doesn’t have to do it.”

“He’s gonna do it,” I say.

“As long as he doesn’t break anything.” Dad raps anxiously on the table.

Brody jumps, tucking himself into a ball and protecting his head as he hits the water ass first.

Tristan is already out of his seat. “Oh man. Oh, that’s not great.”

I toss some money on the table, and we abandon our drinks, rushing down to where Sam and Chase are waiting for Brody. His face is green as he pulls himself out of the water and promptly drops to his knees, cupping his junk .

“Nothing hurts more than a water nut-slap,” Sam says.

“Fuck, my balls…” Brody groans.

A mom ushers her preteen daughter away, firing a dirty look over her shoulder at Brody, who is far too busy cradling his bruised balls to notice.

I crouch beside him. “Everything feel like it’s still intact?”

“I feel like they’re in my throat.” He gags. “I’m gonna?—”

I move out of the way as he tosses his cookies.

“Guess you boys aren’t up for a round two, huh?” Isaac pulls himself out of the water.

“We’ll take a cab back,” I suggest. Brody can’t handle bouncing his balls across the ocean after this.

We leave Sam and Isaac to continue their adventure and cab it back to the resort. Chase disappears into his room, still looking green, and I grab Brody’s bag from Dad’s room and take him back to mine. He’s in much better form, no longer choking on his balls.

“Look, the room situation isn’t perfect.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

I hold my wrist to the door and let him in.

Brody frowns as he takes in the space. “Who did you piss off? Why do you have this room? Dad’s is super nice. This is like…kinda shitty.”

“It was the last room in the block. There’s also a leak in the roof.”

“Why didn’t you ask to switch?”

My phone buzzes on the table.

Brody glances over. His eyes bug out as he grabs it and holds it in front of me, inadvertently unlocking it and opening to the first message. Which is from Essie. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck ! Essie is sending you pictures?” His jaw drops. “Nate.”

I pinch his nipple and pluck my phone out of his hand. “Those aren’t for your eyes.”

His mouth opens and closes. His eyes are saucers, and he looks like his head is about to explode. “Essie is sending you mostly naked pictures. Bro!” He holds his hand up.

I stare at him.

“Dude.” He grabs my hand and forces me to high-five him. “Are you two…like—” He motions to his junk.

“You can’t tell anyone.” I check her most recent message.

Essie

When are you back?

You can stop by my room if you’re interested in a little dessert before dinner.

And help me pick a dress to go over this.

A picture of her in a pink lace bra and panty set follows.

The messages were sent twenty minutes ago.

Nate

I can be there in two.

Essie

Better hurry up. We’re running out of time.

“Dude! Are you sexting Essie?” He spins in a circle. “She is so hot.”

“She’s not just something to ogle, fuckhead.”

“I know. She’s like, super nice. But dude, she’s like…wow.”

“Look, you can’t say anything. This information doesn’t leave this room.”

“I am a vault. I will say nothing.” He makes a lips-zipped-and-throw-away-the-key motion. “She was a legend at our high school, Nate. Everyone talked about how hot she was. And still is. You are the man.” He puts his hand on his chest, his smile sly. “I bow to you, you giant fucking nerd.”

I frown.

“Seriously, though, how did you land her? Was it all your big books?” He smirks. “Did you wow her with your extensive use of words with lots of syllables?” He does jazz hands and a hip shimmy. “Was it science?”

“Fuck you. I’ll be back in half an hour.” I open the door.

“You’re my hero,” he calls after me as I leave him to deal with the shitstorm that is now his room.

Because Essie needs my help.