If You Need Me (The Toronto Terror #3)

Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

DALLAS

I sleep like shit the night before our date, worried I’ll do something to fuck the whole thing up. Then I accidentally hit snooze and sleep through my alarm, which means I’m running late.

Wills

It’s after eleven. Where the hell are you?

Dallas

On my way!

When I finally arrive, Wills looks more than a little annoyed as she exits the building. I want to get out and help, but she’s already at the passenger side door, and I didn’t have time to manage my anxiety boner, so all I can do is lean over and pull the handle. We’re not off to a good start.

Aside from the murderous look on her perfect face, I notice she’s wearing one of the outfits I bought for her.

She opens the back door. “You’re twenty-five minutes late.” She tosses her bag in the back seat and hangs the garment bag, closing the door with a little extra force before she slides into the passenger seat. “It’s common courtesy to text if you’re going to be late.”

“I had trouble falling asleep, and then I slept through my alarm, and I forgot my suit and had to run back up and get it. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” As soon as she’s buckled in, I put the car in gear and pull into traffic. I wait until the locks click before I say anything else. “I would have gotten out of the car to help with your bags, but I’m currently owning another inconvenient boner. I felt as though a public hard-on would make things worse?—”

Willy puts her hand on my arm. I fully expect her nails to dig in, but the touch remains gentle. Instead, she does that thing where her voice gets all soft and sweet. “Take a breath, Dallas.”

I suck in a lungful of air and try to focus on driving and not on the fact that she’s touching me. She smells like her favorite shampoo. I inhale deeply. I can feel her eyes on me. This is my happy place.

“Good boy.” She squeezes my arm and severs contact.

I groan. Loudly. Not on purpose, but any kind of praise from her lips, even if it’s meant with a heaping side of sarcasm, just jacks me up. Especially phrases like “good boy.”

She crosses one leg over the other and shifts so her body is turned toward me. “Talk to me about these anxiety boners.”

“It’s probably not a good idea.”

“Because talking about it will make the problem worse?”

I nod once.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“The angle isn’t bad.”

“How long do they usually last?”

“Depends on the situation.” This one will likely last all day. My balls will definitely feel some type of way.

“How many times have you jerked off in a bathroom before a promo op?” I must be imagining the slight breathiness to her voice .

“Just a few times. Mostly I handle the situation at home.” But sometimes even that doesn’t work.

“Is this why you’re chronically late?” she asks.

We’ve never talked about this. Not in all the years she’s been working with the team. I just let her chastise me for my tardiness. “It’s part of the reason.”

“What’s the other part of the reason?”

This is one of those rare cases in which being honest might earn me some grace. “I’ve done a lot of disappointing things when it comes to you. It was one thing to be an idiot when we were kids, and totally another when I’m putting your professional reputation on the line.” Before Wills joined the Terror I wasn’t all that concerned with promo ops. "I wanted to prove that I wasn’t just a dipshit. That’s when the panic attacks started. I’m sure it’s hard to believe, considering all the shit I’ve put you through in the last little while, but disappointing you, or any company or nonprofit you liaise with, isn’t something I want to do.” I grip the steering wheel and slow down as we approach a stoplight.

Willy is silent for so long that I finally glance her way.

God, she’s beautiful. Especially when she’s wearing a sexy pout and one of her eyebrows is arched. She looks a little menacing, like she did when she straddled my face and rode my tongue. I should not be thinking about that right now. I look away so she can’t see the thoughts on my face.

“You’re serious,” she murmurs.

“Yeah. I don’t want to be a pain in your ass.” I just wanted time with her. I’d sign up for something, then get nervous the night before and end up with a stupid anxiety boner which often resulted in me being late and Wills being annoyed. It became a vicious cycle I couldn’t get out of.

“Hard to believe based on recent events,” she mutters.

“Yeah. I know.” I drive us out of the city, into the rolling hills of the countryside. It’s pretty and scenic, the landscape dotted with fruit farms .

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“Currently we’re heading to the Heartly Farm to visit my horse.”

“Oh, so this is a day of self-flagellation, then, is it?”

I grin. “Would that make you happy, Wills?”

She makes a noise but doesn’t give me an actual answer.

“I don’t dislike horses. I’m just not a fan of the birthing process and seeing an animal in pain,” I admit. “And I get that it’s the cycle of life, but it’s still unnerving to witness.”

Willy huffs and pokes my arm. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what? Be honest?”

“Say things that make me like you.” She turns up the radio.

I grin. Eventually we reach the Heartly Farm, where I witnessed the birth of Dallas Bright, a baby foal owned by a family with a son battling a serious medical condition.

I drive past the main house, all the way around back to the horse barn. Sariah greets me with a wide smile. “Dallas! It’s great to see you! Todd is excited that you’re here again so soon.” She envelops me in a tight hug.

“How are his treatments going?”

Her smile turns soft. “Good. But he came down with a cold last week, so he can’t ride. He’ll come out a little later to say hi, though.” She turns her attention to Wills. “Hemi, it’s so nice to have you back.”

“It’s been too long.”

“Come on. I was just getting the horses ready.” She motions for us to follow her.

Wills falls into step beside me. “Have you been back here without me?” I can’t read her tone, but she almost sounds…hurt.

“I try to come out once a month. I sponsor a couple of horses here, and I visit Todd. I couldn’t always make it work during the regular season, so now I try to come every other week. When Todd is feeling good, he comes for a ride with me.”

“I would have come with you if you’d told me.”

“It wasn’t about publicity,” I say, somewhat defensively .

“I know.” She bumps me with her shoulder. “You really need to stop trying to make me like you.”

“Never.”

We reach the barn, and Sariah introduces Wills to the horse she’ll be riding. Thor is a dark brown steed, majestic and easygoing. Beauty is mine, a black mare.

I pass my phone to Sariah and ask her to snap a few for me while we groom the horses.

“What are you doing?” she mutters.

“Showing you how to do it properly.” I get in nice and close, the curve of her ass pressing against me, my chest meeting her back as I guide the brush over Thor’s flank.

“This is an excuse to rub my ass,” she grumbles.

“Shh, The Sword of Destiny will hear you and rise to the occasion,” I whisper.

She barks out a laugh. “Sword of Destiny?”

“Don’t say his name, summoning him will embarrass us both,” I say in her ear.

She laughs, and I grin.

“You two are so cute together,” Sariah sighs.

Wills nudges me. “I’ve got it from here.”

I reclaim my phone, and we finish preparing the horses and set out on the trail. We take a bunch more photos and meet up with Todd for a short visit once we’re done. It’s obvious the cold is taking it out of him, and he’s frustrated because we have to keep our distance. All he’s allowed is a fist bump, no hug. I promise him I’ll be back in a couple of weeks, and if he’s feeling better he can beat me at Crazy Eights.

Willy links her arm with mine as we walk back to my car. “I can’t believe you’ve been coming here all these months,” she says.

“Todd made an impression on me. So did Beauty, to be honest. And Bright Junior.”

“Don’t downplay it, Dallas. It’s a big deal, and it clearly means a lot to him and his family. ”

I shrug. It’s a small thing compared to what the rest of my family gets up to. My mom has spent her entire life volunteering and giving back to the community. My dad is an oncologist, and my sister and brothers are in the business of saving lives. I’m the one who stepped into a career where I make millions a year for chasing a puck down the ice. But I don’t say any of that, because I don’t like the way it makes me feel. “He’s a great kid and easy to be around. Besides, I’ve developed a fondness for horses—outside of the birthing process, anyway.”

Wills squeezes my bicep. “I love that you do this.”

Her approval jacks me up even more than her ire, and I remind my body that we’re in a public place and to settle down. “You’re always welcome to join me, but I don’t want to turn it into a promo op.”

She smiles up at me, and it’s so full of genuine warmth that my heart skips a beat. “This is a really special thing you’re doing, Dallas. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

She lets go of my arm, but her smile remains. And it feels like a huge win—like maybe she’s starting to see the me who’s been in front of her all these years, and not just the idiot kid who was too caught up in what everyone else thought to show her how I felt about her.

Our next stop is a fruit farm just a few minutes down the road.

We park in the back, and she trades her T-shirt for a tank top that dips low in the front and shows off her ample cleavage. I can’t look away as she gathers her thick, wavy hair and twists it, securing it with a clip. My gaze skims the graceful slope of her neck and the softness of her shoulders. What I wouldn’t give to kiss a path along that bare skin. She props her fist on her hip. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.” I pop the trunk and retrieve my duffel bag. I pull the shirt I’m wearing over my head and toss it in the trunk so I can replace it with a fresh one.

“Dallas.” Willy snaps her fingers.

I glance up. “’Sup?”

“Look pretty.” She snaps several photos.

“Won’t it look suspect if I’m changing my shirt?”

“There’s no context. I can save it for when your socials need a boost.” She smirks and tucks her phone back in her purse.

I run a hand over my abs and return the grin. “Wilhelmina Reddi-Grinst, were you objectifying me?”

“Yup. Absolutely. And don’t think I didn’t see you checking out my rack a minute ago,” she notes.

“I like your curves,” I confess as I pull my shirt over my head.

“I have a lot of them.” Wills beckons me forward. “You’ve got something in your hair.”

She slides a hand up my chest and curves it around the back of my neck. For a moment, our eyes meet.

“Bend for me,” she murmurs.

I grin. “I always do.”

Her nails dig into my skin, and my body instantly reacts as she tugs my head down. I don’t resist. Especially not since I’m now looking down the front of her shirt into her glorious cleavage. I would love to end tonight snuggling on the couch, my head resting on her softness.

“Got it.” The bite of her nails and the warmth of her palm disappears from the back of my neck. She holds a dandelion fluff between her finger and thumb. “Make a wish on three.”

On three she releases the dandelion fluff. I wish, not for the first time, that she would see the truth and believe it.

She closes her eyes and her lips move as she makes her own wish, the fluff floating away on the breeze.

I almost lean in to kiss her pretty, tempting lips. But then I remember she’s only on this date because we need photographic evidence of our fake relationship .

Once I’ve locked up the car, she falls into step beside me. She doesn’t yank her hand away when my fingers graze hers, so I link our pinkies.

While we pick berries we talk about the reunion and iron out the details of our relationship. I pause to put sunscreen on her shoulders when they start to turn pink. Her lips push out into a pout. “You were just carrying that around with you?”

“I know you’re prone to burning.” I brush the back of my hand over her cheek.

She tips her head. “Are you always this thoughtful?”

“This isn’t how you wanted to spend your Saturday, so I’m trying to make it bearable.”

“I don’t dislike being around you, Dallas. I just have a lot of feelings about the way you treated me when we were growing up.”

“I’m sorry about what happened?—”

“I said I had a lot of feelings, not that I wanted to talk about them.”

And there’s my favorite Willy. The one who says exactly what she means. But as much as I love her for it, the way she shuts me down also makes it impossible to have a real conversation about the past, or to apologize the way I want to.

We finish filling our baskets in silence. Then she changes her shirt again so we can take pictures in their flower garden.

We go to a theater in the park performance, followed by dinner at one of her favorite restaurants.

Dinner is easy. We avoid talking about the reunion and Brooklyn and Sean. Instead, she fills me in on the project she’s working on with the women’s team. She’s animated and enthusiastic, and I wish, for the thousandth time, that I hadn’t given her so many reasons to hate me before now.

At the end of the night, I pull into the fifteen-minute parking spot at her building.

She unbuckles her seat belt and smiles softly. “I actually had a good time today. ”

I stretch my arm across the back of her seat. “I could come up for a bit and take care of you.”

Her eyes flare. “Oh, uh…my roommate is home tonight.”

“We could go to my place instead.”

Her bottom lip slides through her teeth as her eyes rove over me. “That’s okay. I think it’s better if we don’t. Thank you for offering, though.” Her hand is already on the door.

“Of course. Yeah.” I swallow my disappointment.

Her eyes dart to my mouth, and for a moment I wonder if she wants me to kiss her. But this is Wills. The only reason she tolerated this day with me is so Brooklyn’s mom will stop questioning the validity of this relationship.

She gets out of the car and grabs her bag from the back seat. “Thanks again, Dallas. Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

I watch her walk away. So much for that wish I made.