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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“This is such great news! I knew you’d get an interview if you applied. You graduated at the top of your freaking class. They want you more than a hockey player wants a full set of teeth.”

“I feel like I’m grossly unprepared for this.”

“Come over to my place tomorrow morning. Or I can come to you. We’ll do a couple of dry runs.”

“It’s probably better if I come to you.”

“I’ll text you my address. Ten o’clock work for you?”

“That’s perfect. Thank you, Hemi. For everything.”

“No thanks necessary. Your resume speaks for itself. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I end the call feeling more settled. Flip doesn’t understand interview stress. He’s been highly sought after since he was sixteen. It was never if he would end up with a contract. It was where and for how much.

Since I’m already on a phone call roll, I call my mom on the way back into the building. I’ve been playing down the whole job-apartment situation so she doesn’t worry.

“Hey, honey, how are you? Is everything okay? What’s this about you moving in with Phillip and Tristan?”

“I just had an issue with my former roommates; it’s not a big deal and Flip is being cool about the whole thing.”

“What about your job? I don’t understand how they could let you go with no warning?”

I also might have fibbed about how I ended up unemployed. “Sometimes these things happen. I already have an interview lined up for later in the week. So everything should work out just fine. How are you? How’s Dad?” I switch the subject and we talk for a few more minutes before I let her go with a promise to update her on the job situation.

I almost head back to the condo, but I said I was going to the gym. The athletic facilities here are nice, and when I get there, the place is almost empty. I grab a magazine and hop on a treadmill.

Yesterday, I convinced Flip to give me access to his banking files and expenses so I could create a basic financial portfolio with predicted revenue streams and investment incentives. There was a lot to get through. He rarely spends more than a hundred dollars at a time, even on groceries, which may account for the frequent shopping trips.

I leaf through the magazine, frowning at the dated hairstyles. Flipping to the cover, I find it’s more than twenty-five years old. I browse the contents and reach an ad that’s iconic in the hockey world: the Alex Waters milk advertisement. Back then it was acceptable to be a fuckboy when milk came knocking. Although, from what I understand, Alex Waters made out with copious women, but few experienced his skill set in the bedroom.

According to some uncensored interviews with his wife, it’s because most women are terrified of his junk. Those were her exact words. I stare at the ad, smiling at the old-school look that does nothing to detract from the hotness of Alex Waters in the prime of his hockey career. He’s built like Adonis. He’s pouring a two-liter container of milk down his body. It licks over the ridges and planes of his muscular chest and abs. The ad cuts off just below the delightful V that leads to his terrifying cock. It’s a sexy ad. I wonder how this magazine ended up here.

An idea takes shape as I ogle Alex Waters. It has potential to be equally great or terrible. But I’m pretty damn sure my brother’s best friend had a semi when he pulled me off that counter. I might loathe him with the fire of a thousand burning yeast infections, but if he finds me attractive, I can use that to my advantage. I can fuck with him the way he used to fuck with me as a teenager, when he viewed me solely as an annoyance. I might still be one, but it’s even better if I annoy him and he finds me hot. Then we’re in the same frustrating boat. I’m about to find out if that’s the case.

I’m the perfect amount of lightly dewy and slightly breathless when I end my run. The magazine comes with me. I don’t care if Alex Waters is old enough to be my dad now, in this ad he’s total jill-off material. I take the elevator back to the condo and run into Dred in the hall. We exchange brief hellos since she’s on her way out and I’m on my way in, crossing my fingers that the guys are still having a strategy meeting. Luck is on my side. They’re sitting around the island.

All four heads turn in my direction.

“Hey, Rix. How was the workout?” Flip goes back to staring at his iPad.

“Good, thanks.” I wave a hand in front of my face. “It’s hot in here. You mind if I open a couple of windows?”


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