Page 3 of No Shot (The Toronto Tundra #2)

Bri

“ I was not prepared for this workout, Bridgette,” my sister huffs as we drop our third load of my things in the apartment entryway. I guess my apartment entryway now.

“ Bridgette, huh? Who knew exertion made you so formal, Camille?” I reply.

“ It was my attempt at reprimanding you, Bri. Going all big sis on you. Did it work?” she asks hopefully.

“ Uh, yeah, totally.” Lie . “ Come on, slow-poke, one more load and we ’ re done.”

All I get in reply is an exasperated sigh.

“ What do you think, Kaia? Shouldn ’ t Mama and I show you how strong we are?” I keep my tone playful, smiling down at the elated toddler on Cami ’ s hip.

“ Ughh, fine. You ’ re right, we ’ re three strong, independent women who don ’ t need no men.” She claps her hands together to emphasize the end of the statement. “ Except for daddy,” she whispers a lot quieter to Kaia.

“ Dada, dada, dada.” Kaia ’ s little legs kick as she sings her favorite chant, which we ’ ve heard no less than twenty times in the past two hours.

“ I know, baby. We ’ re going to see Daddy tomorrow.” I feel for her, I really do. I cannot imagine how often she ’ s left alone during the season. Loneliness topped with solo-caring for a rambunctious toddler? It makes my empathy amplified.

I ’ d be lying if I said that wasn ’ t part of the reason I decided on moving to Toronto. I ’ ve barely seen my sister in the last four years, let alone lived near her. I always thought she ’ d stay in Prince Edward Island forever. She loved it so much she even decided to go to University there.

I, on the other hand, was ready to get the hell out the second I graduated high school.

So, while I headed to Quebec for Uni, she graduated from UPEI and decided to head here on what was meant to be a little adventure.

Long story short, she accidentally met her now husband and has been stuck here ever since.

I know how much she misses PEI, and I know there ’ s no hope for her to move back anytime soon.

It ’ s hard to grasp what that must feel like—which is probably why the sister-guilt ’ s creeping in.

“ UGH, I am freaking winded. I don ’ t know what ’ s going on with me,” Cami says through labored breaths as we walk down the stairs.

“ You ’ re probably just run-down. How ’ d she sleep last night?”

“ Fine, ya know once I got her down. It ’ s just—no matter what I do, as soon as bedtime comes around she starts screaming for Scott.

It ’ s not like I can just FaceTime him anytime she wants to see him.

I ’ ve been trying everything. Photo albums, video messages, telling her stories about him—nothing works, and I—” She sighs, and I can hear the exhaustion radiating from her.

“ Sorry, I ’ m fine. Just tired, ignore me. ”

I stop, taking a second to pull Kaia onto my hip.

“ Oh, thanks.” The immediate relief in Cami ’ s voice causes an ache in my chest.

“ Hey, just remember, I ’ m here now. You ’ ve got a built-in babysitter. Anytime you need a break, I can pop over, or you can drop little miss off with me. It ’ s going to be different this year.” I stroke her arm with my free hand as she smiles over at me. “ I promise, ‘ kay?”

“ I ’ m so glad you ’ re here, Bri.”

Once we ’ ve made the last trip, Cami looks even worse for wear. I know Scott has only been gone for two days, but it ’ s clearly catching up to her.

“ Kaia, do you wanna go out with Auntie Bri?” I call down to the chunky eighteen-month-old playing in my box of clothes.

“ Kaia go tee-bee?”

“ That ’ s right, sweet girl! Auntie Bri! Why don ’ t we go walk over to the park?”

All I get in reply is a smile bright enough to light the world and frantic, grabby hands waving in the air. I chuckle at her enthusiasm, not to mention her never-wavering energy levels. Cami looks over at us from her spot on the couch, just as she starts to peel her body off of it.

“ Cami, just chill. Why don ’ t you watch some TV? Or better yet, take a nap. I just got my sheets and stuff set up.”

“ No, I'm fine, really.” The yawn she lets out betrays her. I cross my arms at my stubborn sister, a gesture little Kaia immediately imitates. Oh well, sass is a good character trait. Best to teach them young.

“ Seriously, take a breather. Kaia and Auntie Bri are going to have a blast, right?” As I pick up Kaia, she lets out an elated squeal while her feet do happy kicks in the air.

“ See?” I call out pointedly toward Camille, who allows herself to sink back into the couch. With a frantic wave, we depart, leaving my sister to have her first moment of peace probably in the last forty-eight hours.

After an hour of running around the park and a thirty-minute snack break later, we ’ re headed back up to the apartment.

As soon as I get the door open, Kaia barrels her way over to the couch and jumps right onto Camille ’ s sleeping body.

The guilt that ’ s been weighing on me is somewhat subsided at how much more rested she looks already. At least she got a little break.

“ Oh my gosh, I can ’ t believe I fell asleep. Did you two have fun?” she asks the little dwindling ball of energy who looks like she might be ready for a nap soon.

“ Tee-bee and Kaia play park,” my niece declares proudly, smiling up at me as I watch on from across the room.

“ We ’ re just so lucky Auntie Bri is here, huh?

Come on, my love, let ’ s head home. It ’ s almost time for your nap.

” She scoops Kaia up, who promptly nuzzles her face into her mama ’ s neck, and I ’ m pretty sure I ’ m in cuteness overload.

Has she always been this adorable? I ’ ve missed so much of her life already, I ’ m determined to maximize every moment with her from this point forward.

As she passes by me, Cami plants a kiss on my cheek. “ Thanks for today.” She grabs Kaia and holds her out to me. “ Kaia, say bye, baby.”

“ Wuv you tee-bee,” she squeals, leaning forward to give me a giant kiss that lands right on my nose.

Oh man, I was wrong, this is officially cuteness overload.

***

The past day has been such a whirlwind. Between moving into my new space, drowning in schoolwork, and starting my part-time job, I ’ ve been running on fumes.

Note to self, I absolutely do not have enough time to walk back here after my 5 AM shift to shower before rushing to make it to class on time.

I ’ m just going to have to suck up smelling like fresh roasted coffee beans in all of my lectures now.

What a great way to make friends. Exhausted, in a rush, overcaffeinated, and coffee-scented. Just perfect.

Whatever, at least it pays the bills—or kind of contributes.

Thankfully, my scholarship pays for the majority of my accelerated MBA.

Savings from spending every waking minute for the past four years as a teaching assistant cover more, and being a barista at Java will cover the rest. Will money be tight? Honestly, when is it not?

I still can ’ t wrap my head around how on earth this amazing place came about.

When Scott told me he might have found a space for me, I refused to get my hopes up.

Somehow, a fully furnished, immaculate, one-bedroom apartment close to both my school and work popped up, available to be sublet at a ridiculously low price, and I ’ m not going to lie…

when I heard, I may have shed a few happy tears.

It was going to be a long year if I spent it mooching off of Scott and Cami, living in the spare bedroom of their condo. I already felt bad about staying there for a week. Yes, their home is beautiful and spacious, but it ’ s not their job to look out for me. I look after myself.

Needless to say, I was so pumped to move in.

With textbooks, expenses, and rent, it ’ ll be tough, but I can do it. Only one more year until I can start my career, and all this time scraping by will finally be worth it.

Stepping into the kitchen, the oven clock catches my attention. Fuckity-fuck, I ’ m going to be late—I cannot be late. I rush out the door in a flash, coffee sloshing over my entire arm as I hit the elevator button. Of fucking course.

With a deep breath, I balance my phone, tote, and coffee as I pull out a pack of wipes to clean up my mess. This is why I always come prepared. I walk around like freaking Mary Poppins—for moments exactly like this.

Okay, Bridgette, chill, it ’ s okay.

I have exactly twenty-nine minutes.

It ’ s a five-minute walk to the bus stop.

The bus runs every fifteen minutes.

On average, it ’ s been about a ten-minute ride to campus .

I can double-check the fastest path to my lecture while I ’ m on the bus.

I ’ ll make it, don ’ t freak out, it ’ s fine.

I take another shaky breath as the elevator door finally dings and I rush out to the lobby.

In a whirlwind, I turn and toss the excess of wipes I used in the garbage before continuing on my mission.

My ballet flats clack against the marble flooring as I resecure my tote bag on my shoulder and hurry forward toward the revolving glass door to the building.

As I ’ m about to exit, some guy stops right in my path.

I ’ m entirely too stressed to deal with anyone right now, let alone a man .

Though my favorite pastime is walking in a straight line and reveling in the look of shock while a guy realizes you ’ re not going to yield and dodge out of his thundering way, I can ’ t even enjoy it today.

I don ’ t even grace him with a second of my time as I pivot around him.

“ Uh, how did you find out where I live?” the guy ’ s voice calls out to me.

I beg your finest pardon?

That gets my attention as I glare up at him. He ’ s attractive, I guess. If you ’ re into the slap you in the face kind of good looks. His dark blonde hair is pushed back in a backward baseball cap—very fitness-bro-chic but—oh shit. Is that the hot bar guy?

“ What did you just say?” I ask, still trying to assess if it really is the same guy from the other night.

“ Did you… like follow me or something?” Yep, it ’ s definitely him.

The confusion in his expression only fuels my irritation. What is he going on about?

“ Did I what?” I snap back in a sharp tone. I ’ m genuinely dumbfounded at the fact that he thinks after a ten-second makeout, I ’ d go on some wild goose chase to find him. Men.

I don ’ t know how they do it, but they never cease to amaze me with their fucking audacity. This day is getting more infuriating by the second.

“ You know what…” I mumble to myself before deciding I have just enough time to not let this slide.

“ One, most humans start polite conversations with a hello before jumping into absurd accusations. Two, if I wanted to see you again, I would have asked for your number. Three, the absolute ego on you to think I ’ m here for you is unfathomable, yet somehow, I ’ m not even surprised.

Four, I ’ m busy, so get the fuck out of my way. ”

“ Wait, I was just—”

“ Being a prick,” I supply over my shoulder as I storm out into the street.