If You Hate Me (Toronto Terror #1) Read Online Helena Hunting

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Funny, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Toronto Terror Series by Helena Hunting
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Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
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“I didn’t realize you had company tonight,” he says to Flip.

“Stacey, you remember Tristan, right? Tristan, we’ve hung out with Stacey before.”

Based on Tristan’s blank expression, he doesn’t remember hanging out with Stacey. “Right. Hey.”

The awkwardness ratchets up to unbearable levels. I do not want to know how well Tristan and Stacey know each other. My stomach twists uncomfortably, and finding an apartment climbs on my to-do list. Like, maybe I should go do that right now. End this sex pact so I don’t have to deal with the hard truth: that I’m no different than Stacey. Watching a movie with someone Tristan and my brother have both slept with is more than I’m prepared for. I don’t want to think about him touching her the way he touches me.

Before I can make an excuse to leave, Tristan crams himself on the futon between me and Flip. I shift over a few inches, trying to give him extra space, but he manspreads until his knee rests against mine.

He stretches his arm across the back of the couch. His fingers sift through my hair, and his thumb sweeps along my nape. I freeze, unsure how to interpret the touch. It feels illicit. Dangerous. Is he trying to tell me something? Whatever his intentions, it’s incredibly ballsy. I brush his hand away, unable to handle the contact.

“How was the workout?” Flip asks.

“Good. Guess now I know why you missed it,” Tristan replies.

“Planning to get a different kind of workout in.” Flip snorts.

Stacey giggles.

I want to yeet her over the loft railing. Horror hits me when I finally pin down the emotion that’s making my blood boil. I’m jealous. Of a puck bunny. That she’s had Tristan’s hands on her makes me feel sick. This is a new low. There are hundreds of women just like her—and me—who have had his unrelenting dick inside of us.

Five minutes later, Flip and Stacey decide to move to his bedroom. As they get up, Tristan’s arm magically disappears from the back of the couch. Once Flip stands, he moves over a few inches.

Flip sends Stacey down before him and turns to Tristan. “You want in, man?”

This time I audibly gag. Flip ignores me.

My stomach tries to turn itself inside out. That my brother is inviting his best friend to take part in a threesome in front of me is indicative of the lack of boundaries in their relationship. It’s also a shot of reality I don’t know how to handle. This is what I signed on for. And it was fine when Tristan and I were in this little bubble, but the season is about to start. Tristan will be on the road. Maybe fucking bunnies. Probably fucking bunnies. I’m such an idiot for thinking I could handle something like that.

Tristan coughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, no, man. I’m good.”

The wave of relief that follows is horrifying. He’s going away tomorrow, and I’ll be faced with an entire twenty-four hours of not knowing where his dick is going to be. I don’t want it to be anywhere but inside me. Which is a huge fucking problem.

Flip shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

“Keep in mind we have an early flight tomorrow,” Tristan adds.

“I’ll nap on the plane.” Flip disappears down the ladder.

Neither of us says anything until my brother’s bedroom door closes.

“Where’d you go tonight?” Tristan asks.

As if none of that just happened. Like I’m not over here in a panic spiral because I have feelings and don’t like them one bit.

This isn’t a big deal for him, I realize. And it shouldn’t be for me either. But I feel ill knowing he’s fucked her, had his hands on her, kissed her, probably at the same time as my brother.

And I’m about to hear her get railed all night. I should be able to shake that, but I can’t.

“Hemi’s.” I run my hands up and down my legs. I need space. And not to have a panic attack or emotional breakdown in front of Tristan. Because this jealousy and shame aren’t something I want him to see. This was always the deal. My stomach flops over. “I should probably get ready for bed.”

He grabs my arm before I can stand. “Why don’t we hang out here until Flip gets things going? Then you can come to my room.”

“Wow.” I blow out a breath. This is not how I envisioned tonight—or any other night—going. Although, I probably should have. This is a reminder that any feelings for Tristan that aren’t lust—or hate—related is a bad freaking idea. Who knows how recently he was with Stacey. I’m just another series of holes that are conveniently available. Clearly that’s what he thinks, as evidenced by his immediate invitation to fuck now that Flip will be occupied—with someone Tristan has also screwed before.


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