Page 4 of I Could Be Yours (The Toronto Terror #6)
In high school, she was the girl everyone wanted to date.
She was voted hottest girl in the school all four years, and she was fun, a literal ray of sunshine.
She didn’t hide the fact that she loved all things princess, and she always had a new boyfriend.
For some reason I assumed she floated through every part of her life the same way, but now I have to wonder what else I’ve been wrong about.
Eventually we move on to the stag and doe, which is also a co-ed event. Again, the point is to raise money. This time for a local women’s shelter.
“I have a list of prizes and the corresponding games they would be best suited for.” Essie consults another beautiful spreadsheet with projected earning potential for each game already outlined, based on prizes. “I’m still on the hunt for a Plinko board, though.”
“You mean from The Price is Right ?” I ask.
“Exactly!”
“I’ll make it. I can make a Plinko board. What else do you need made? Or done? I’m good at organizing things, too.” I can’t allow this to continue. Not when I’m literally the king of organization.
“My shoes have never been lined up so perfectly,” Flip agrees.
I give him a look.
“And my towels have never been folded so uniformly. If you want to make my bed for me too, I’m down, honey bear.” Flip winks again.
I like neat and orderly. I function better when everything is in the right place.
I ignore Flip. “Seriously, though. I’ve got the Plinko board.” I have an engineering degree. It should be straightforward.
“Okay, great!” Essie makes a note. “Oh! I almost forgot. I have something for you. ”
I expect her to hand it to Rix, or literally anyone but me. It’s book shaped. “What is this for?”
“I saw it and thought of you.” She blinks up at me, all innocent-like.
“That was so nice of you,” Rix says.
“Thanks?” I peel the tape, careful not to rip the paper. My neck itches like it’s wrapped in a wool scarf because everyone is watching me. I frown as I read the title. A Guide to Happiness: 100 strategies for a happier, healthier you !
Flip barks out a laugh. Tristan snickers. Essie smiles, and Rix hides hers behind her drink. I bite the inside of my cheek as it heats. “Ha-ha, thanks.” I have nowhere to hide it, so I flip the book over and set it on the table between us.
Essie steers the conversation back to the stag and doe, and then it’s on to wedding-wear updates. “I’ve already stopped by the tuxedo shop to confirm that the handkerchiefs and ties match the bridesmaid dresses. And Nate has been for his fitting, so we are good to go there.”
“Isn’t that my job?”
“Mm-hmm.” Essie’s voice pitches up. “I emailed you about it, but I didn’t get a response, so I took care of it. You should have all the details if you want to follow up.”
“Right, yeah. You should probably just text instead of email.”
Essie’s smile turns wooden. “Okay. I can do that.”
By the end of dinner, my competitive side has been fully activated.
Essie’s here with a fucking binder of information, taking over everything, and I look like a complete slacker—and a shitty brother and best man.
It’s fucking on. Whatever games she has for this stag and doe, I’ll have better ones.
And prizes. I work for one of the top sports-equipment companies in Canada.
I should be able to score some awesome stuff.
Flip holds the door open for Essie as we leave the restaurant. I want to charley horse him when he leans in and whispers something that makes her laugh. The fuck is wrong with me?
“You okay, man? You seem…more tense than usual,” Tristan sa ys quietly. “Work still super busy? You know Flip will help out with whatever you need.”
“Work is fine. Good, actually. And I can handle things. I just didn’t realize Essie was communicating everything through the email I don’t check very often,” I explain. “Once we switch to text, we’ll be good.”
“Okay. Cool. And thanks again for picking up Ess. It took the pressure off Bea.” He pats my back.
Essie waves and hops into the back of Rix’s SUV while Flip joins me in my car.
He reclines in the passenger seat and stares at me as I fasten my seat belt, check all my mirrors, and adjust the air. “What?”
“There’s a vibe between you and Essie.”
Of course he’s noticed. He’s irritatingly perceptive. “There’s no vibe between me and Essie.”
“The way you’re gripping the steering wheel tells me that’s a load of bullshit.” He nods toward my hands. “But if you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s fine.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
My phone buzzes in the holder, and the screen lights up with a new message.
“Who’s Cotton Candy?” Flip asks.
“No one.” I manage to grab it a split second before Flip. Thank fuck. He tries to steal it out of my hand, but I slide it into my pants pocket.
“No one, eh? Is that why your face is beet red and you look like you’re halfway between a heart attack and jizzing in your pants?”
“Leave it alone, Flip.”
He holds up his hands. “All right. Backing off.”
He talks about how much fun the stag and doe will be since his teammate, Dallas Bright, has offered to host it at his parents’ place on Lake Vernon in Huntsville. I’ve been there once, for Dallas and Hemi’s engagement party. I let him talk while I sweat. I swear my phone is burning in my pocket .
As soon as we get home, I lock myself in my bedroom and pull my phone out.
I quickly change Cotton Candy to Essie in my contacts and open her message.
My stomach flips and sinks.
There’s only one new one.
Essie
Here are the links to all the spreadsheets. I hope you enjoy the book.
I swallow down guilt as I read the ones above it, dating back six years ago.
Nate
I’ll call you tomorrow.
Essie
Can’t wait
But I didn’t call. Or message. I ghosted her and moved to Kingston for university a few weeks later. It wouldn’t have worked out. She stayed in Toronto with Rix. Kingston was a three-hour drive away. But I was still an asshole. Still am an asshole now.
Nate
Got it. Thx.
Essie
So you can text back. Good to know.
What else can I say when it’s far too late for sorry ?