Page 35 of I Could Be Yours (The Toronto Terror #6)

“Thank you. For making a hard day manageable just by being you.” He takes my hand and presses it to his chest. He opens his mouth to say something, but Muffy’s voice comes over the mic.

“The slideshow is about to begin! You don’t want to miss this.”

“Did you want to say something else?” I ask.

“Nah, it can wait until later.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. “I’m just going to use the bathroom. I’ll be right behind you.”

I return to the tent and slide into my seat next to Rix. Tristan walks toward us, two drinks in his hands.

“Have you seen Nate?” Rix asks quietly.

“Yeah, he just went to the bathroom. He’ll be right back.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, we were just talking. Everything’s great.” It’s a little white lie, but she doesn’t need to carry this with her.

Nate returns as the slideshow begins. Pictures of Tristan and Flip and me and Rix as kids flash across the screen.

I see their family’s story unfolding, the way Tristan and his dad were always together with his brothers.

Little Brody already in love with hockey at the age of three.

Nate more interested in the mechanics of skates than in shooting the puck.

A photo of Rix and Flip with Tristan’s dad and brothers at the maple farm pops up.

Rix is holding Brody’s hand, and Nate is busy looking in a maple bucket, while Tristan and Flip grin cheesily.

Tristan’s smile stops appearing when he hits his teens, and anyone who knows their story can see the darkness that clouds his eyes.

The pictures of Tristan at Rix and Flip’s house are endless.

He was always there for dinner. They were forever playing hockey on the street, and birthday parties chronicle their friendship.

There are just as many moments with Rix and me.

Our lives play out on the screen: first days of school together, birthday celebrations, high school prom, our first year in university where we shared a room, our first apartment, cooking together, snuggling on the couch.

Rix and I were inseparable all through university, until we graduated and I went to Vancouver to chase a dream that didn’t quite fit my life goals.

Tristan and Flip’s friendship spans two decades, from kids playing street hockey to making the pros, and then finally ending up on the same team.

And then Rix and Tristan appear together, their love so clear and beautiful on the screen.

Tristan looks at her with such awe and adoration, and Rix’s eyes are always so full of love for him.

Someone managed to slip in a picture of Rix making cucumber salad.

Her face goes red, and Tristan fights a grin while our friends laugh, and the parents and other friends look confused.

It’s perfect and amazing to see these two, who grew up in each other’s orbit, find the truest kind of love in each other.

When the slideshow ends, so does the evening, and everyone heads back to their rooms. I hug Tristan and Rix good night and send them off with promises that I’ll message first thing in the morning.

Once they’re on their way, I turn to Nate. “I want to check in with the concierge to make sure everything is ready for our bridal breakfast, and double-check our hair appointments before I go to bed.”

“I’ll come with you,” Nate offers.

“Okay.”

He glances over his shoulder, making sure we’re alone on the path before he links our pinkies. “Do you want your room to yourself tonight?”

I glance at him, but he’s focused on some spot in the distance. “No.” We don’t have many days left here, and I want to make the most of them.

“It’s okay if I stay with you?” His fingers press against my lower back as we maneuver around a drunk couple.

“I like Nate snuggles,” I admit as we approach the concierge.

A small smile tugs the corner of his mouth. “Good. Me too.”

As we reach reception, I notice a dark-haired woman arguing with one of the staff. “You can’t be completely full! You must have something available.”

“Ma’am, there’s a wedding?—”

“I’m aware! My son is the one getting married!” she snaps.

Nate freezes, the color draining from his face.

Time slows as she turns in our direction. The similarities are uncanny. The dark eyes and the slant of her brow are echoed on Nate’s face, as are his full lips. I see pieces of all the Stiles brothers. Tristan’s cheekbones, Brody’s nose.

Her eyes flare in recognition as they land on Nate, and he moves closer, his grip on my hand tightening.

“No. This isn’t happening,” he whispers.

She abandons the desk clerk and her luggage and heads straight for us. I step in front of Nate, a shield, a barrier, wishing I could protect him from this fresh, horrible pain.

“Nathan? Is that you?” Her eyes are wide with wonder as she takes in the man gripping my hand like a lifeline.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Nate’s voice is rough with fury and anguish. “Why would you come here?”

She takes a tentative step back, throat bobbing as she smiles uncertainly. “For the wedding.” Her gaze shifts to me, assessing for a moment before she refocuses on her son without so much as an acknowledgement.

And the rage I felt a moment ago doubles. I’m so sick of being dismissed. I’m tired of being loved and hated for something I have no control over. Everything is easier and harder when all they see is a pretty face.

“You weren’t invited,” Nate grinds out.

“I’m your mother,” she states, as if this somehow explains everything.

“The hell you are!” Nate gently moves me out of the way and steps forward, towering over her, but it’s not anger infused into his posture and his tone, it’s utter devastation.

“I haven’t seen you since I was eight. Until a few months ago, I hadn’t heard your voice in more than a decade.

You think because you gave birth to us that it gives you some kind of right to show up and blow our worlds apart all over again? ”

“Nate, honey.” She raises both her hands. “You don’t understand. I was?—”

“Fuck you.” His voice cracks with emotion.

His mother recoils.

We’re drawing attention, not just from the guests milling around, but from the concierge. I’m terrified that Tristan or Brody will find a reason to follow us here and all of Rix’s fears will come true.

Pain laces Nate’s words as he continues to tear her down.

“You lost the right to explain when you abandoned us. Do you have any idea the damage you did? You left all of us. Not just Dad. All of us . You left it up to Tristan to tell us you were gone. Do you know what that did to him? To us? You’re not a mother, you’re selfish and self-absorbed, and you have no right to insert yourself back into our lives after the hell you put us through. ”

Two security guards head for us at the same time Connor Grace comes striding across the lobby. He’s wearing a button-down and black pants, tattoos covered, looking very much the part of hotel royalty, not a pro hockey player.

He meets my anxious gaze as he surveys the scene, eyes landing on Nate’s mother. Understanding dawns, and cold, hard rage flashes for a moment. He holds up a hand, and the guards stop as he reaches us. His eyes narrow on the unwanted guest. “Nate, you need some help here?”

“This is a family discussion,” Nate’s mom snaps. “Nate, you need to calm down. You’re causing a scene.”

Connor levels her with a glare that makes my insides liquify. “You’re not on the guest list.”

“Excuse me?” Nate’s mom looks stricken. “I am the mother of the groom.”

“Biologically maybe.” Connor crosses his arms. “But you gave that title up along with your right to be part of their lives when you abandoned your husband and your three sons.”

She fidgets nervously with her purse strap. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I do. Tristan and I go way back. I know what you did to your family, and I know you don’t belong here,” Connor states flatly. “He does not deserve to have his wedding ruined by you.”

Nate’s mom rolls her shoulders back. “You can’t make me leave. ”

“Haven’t you done enough damage? What will it take to make you stop?” Nate’s voice takes on a pleading edge. “Can’t you do us all a favor and stay gone?”

“Everyone has a price,” Connor says calmly. “What’s yours?”

All three of our heads snap in his direction.

Nate’s mom scoffs as if she’s offended.

“Would a million do it? Maybe two?” Connor tilts his head.

“How dare?—”

“Three? One for each of the kids whose lives you fucked up when you disappeared with no explanation? Would that be enough to keep you out of their lives for good?”

“You can’t be serious.” Nate’s mom fingers the pendant at her throat.

My stomach sinks as I realize she’s considering the proposal.

“Just think how much easier life will be when you don’t have to worry about money,” Connor continues.

“I’ll wire it to your account right after you sign a legal and binding document that states you will not contact your sons or their father again, and if you try, you’ll have to pay it back.

” His expression darkens. “With interest.”

She looks to Nate, expression uncertain.

“You should take the money,” he says flatly. “None of us want to know you.”

“But Brody?—”

“He doesn’t even remember you.” His voice hardens. “You’re dead to him. To all of us.”

My stomach rolls as she turns back to Connor.

“Three million, and you never contact them again,” he says.

“Never again,” she agrees.

“You are a disgusting excuse for a human being.” I thread my arm through Nate’s. “I hope this decision haunts you for the rest of your miserable life.”

“I’ve got this from here,” Connor says, rage still simmering below the surface. This is the man who gets in fights on the ice, the one who doesn’t mind being the villain .

Nate pales, like the truth of this is hitting him. “I can’t pay you back, and I don’t want Tristan to kn?—”

“Consider it my wedding gift to Tristan and you and Brody.” Connor motions for Nate’s mother to follow him before he turns to me and murmurs, “Take care of him.”

I nod. “I will, thank you.”

Nate’s mom glances over her shoulder once, but he isn’t looking at her, he’s looking at me, and he’s utterly ruined.

I cup his cheek in my palm, wishing I could absorb the agony of it all. “She doesn’t deserve any part of your heart.”