Unbreakable

by Jennifer Lazaris

  Unbreakable

  A Toronto Smoke Novel

  Jennifer Lazaris

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Jennifer Lazaris

  Copyright © 2016 by Jennifer Lazaris

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover by Syneca at Original Syn

  Editing by Duli Noted

  To Mary. Life wasn’t fair to you, but I hope Heaven is everything that you’ve ever dreamed. You light will always shine brightly through your daughter, Lauren. And I know my brother will love you forever.

  ~514~

  Chapter One

  WILL

  “Will! Over here!”

  Emmy’s voice carries through the throng of people congregating in the arrival area of the Toronto Pearson airport. I quickly scan the crowd, but I don‘t see her anywhere.

  Moments later, she emerges from the sea of passengers, dragging an enormous pink suitcase behind her. She utters a squeal of happiness and breaks into a huge, beautiful smile.

  Holy shit.

  Emmy’s trademarked, shoulder-length dark curls are gone, replaced by a long, sleek ponytail that swings back and forth behind her as she rushes toward me. The baggy jeans and retro t-shirts she used to wear every day are now replaced by hip-hugging denim shorts and a white shirt that reveals one sexy, bare shoulder. And she’s ditched her running shoes for a pair of designer sandals.

  It’s been eight months since I’ve seen Em in person. And though we’ve traded a few pics back and forth during late-night texting marathons, she’d always had her hair pulled back and a makeup-free face.

  But seeing my tomboy friend looking like she fell from the pages of a fashion magazine? It’s a pretty big shock. Kinda like one of those movies where the cute, average girl gets a makeover and becomes the hottie everyone wants.

  Because there’s no doubt, she looks fucking hot as hell.

  She’s completely changed, except for that big, happy smile. The smile that gets me every single fucking time.

  “Oh my God! Will!” She launches herself into my arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  The light scent of honeysuckle and violets wraps around me.

  Her scent.

  “Missed you too, Em. Christ, it’s been way too long.”

  She bursts into peals of laughter as I pick her up and spin around.

  That’s the thing about Emmy—she radiates pure happiness. It’s like being near a perpetual ball of sunshine. No matter how shitty I feel, she can always make me smile.

  “Damn, Em. You look incredible.” I set her down, and we head off through the crowd in search of the exit.

  She grins over at me and laces her fingers through mine. “Thanks.”

  “I almost didn’t recognize you. The Emmy I know would never be caught dead without her trusty running shoes.” I tug her along toward the parking lot. “I might need to see some ID to verify that you are who you say you are.”

  Emmy laughs. “I know, right? I’ve turned into a total fashion and makeup addict. New York City will do that to a person.” She elbows me playfully in the side. “You’re looking pretty good yourself, Mr. Maverick. So rugged. Training hard for the upcoming hockey season, I guess?”

  “Yep. Every single day.”

  When we reach my truck, I grab her suitcase and toss it into the truck bed, along with her carry-on bag.

  “Do you train with Sully?” she asks.

  “Sometimes. Depends on the day.”

  Her twin brother, aka my best friend, Evan, (or Sully as everyone calls him) also plays professional hockey.

  We're both hockey players within the Toronto Wolverines’ organization, and right now we play for their minor league team, The Toronto Smoke. Hopefully, one of us will get called up to the Wolverines for a few games this season. The Wolverines are national—the big show. Like every player on the Smoke, we’re hungry to prove we can hang with the best players in the world.

  “I hope I can get back here to see a few of your games in person this season. I have to support my favorite guys. By the way, my running shoes are in the suitcase,” she whispers conspiratorially. “I couldn’t give them up entirely.”

  “Good. We can skip the ID check, then,” I say, tugging on her ponytail.

  “Thanks for picking me up today, Will.” She leans back against the seat and sighs as I start the truck. “I didn’t want to miss vacation this year. I was so disappointed when we didn’t make it to the cottage last summer.”

  I navigate through the busy parking lot and back onto the road. “Yeah, I know. It’s just getting harder to get everyone together. Things have changed. We aren’t kids anymore. People are busy with work and school.”

  Emmy stares out of the passenger window. “It seems like everything’s changing lately. But we have to keep up this tradition. It’s important, you know?”

  I reach over and squeeze her hand. “I think so, too.”

  Every year since grade five, our families have gotten together at my parents’ cottage for ten days in August. But the past few years, it’s only been me, Emmy, Sully, and a few of our close friends. Last year, no one could make their schedules work, and Emmy had been horribly sick with strep throat.

  I went up alone to do some maintenance around the cottage and hang out. It had been way too quiet and more than a little lonely, but it wouldn’t have felt right to miss a year.

  She glances over at me, a concerned expression on her face. “Are you okay? I know it has to be hard for you to go up there without your parents.”

  “I’m good, Em.”

  Emmy’s been my rock ever since my parents died three years ago. I'd just been drafted a month before it happened, so I'd gone from being on top of the goddamn world to having my entire world obliterated with just one phone call.

  Even though Sully's my best friend, he's never really been good with the heavy stuff. He tried to be there for me, but I'm not sure he knew what to do. Emmy stepped in and helped me deal with the loss. She kept me focused on hockey and my goals, as well as on living my life in a way that would make my parents proud. Though grief counseling helped, I think Emmy was the one responsible for pulling me out of that awful, dark time.

  The third anniversary of the plane crash has come and gone this year, and I made it through. I spent most of the day on the phone with Em, and she got me through it like she always does.

  When she left to go to university in Ne
w York City two years ago, a part of me died inside. We still text all the time, but it’s not the same as having her here in Toronto.

  “So why didn’t you bring Aidan?” I ask.

  Aidan is Emmy’s uppity, lawyer-to-be, douchebag boyfriend. He’s one of those guys who enjoys looking down his nose at people who aren’t high society.

  Despite the fact that both Emmy and I come from very wealthy families, we’re not snobs. Aidan’s not only a snob, but he’s also a total fucking phony.

  She can’t see it, though. Em always tries to see the best in everyone—it’s her one big flaw. She gives people too many chances, and they end up treating her like shit.

  “That’s over now,” she says, adjusting one of the silver rings on her fingers. “We broke up a few months ago.”

  Thank you, Jesus.

  I do an elaborate mental victory dance but still manage to give her a sympathetic look.

  “I’m sorry, Em. You should have told me.”

  I know why she didn’t, though. I don’t like how Aidan treats her, especially after some of the crappy things he’s done over the course of their relationship. She knows exactly what I think of him and rarely brings him up in our conversations.

  Emmy shoots me an amused look. “You’re not sorry. You couldn’t stand him.”

  “He made you feel like you weren’t good enough for him when it was completely the opposite.” I glance over at her. “Anyway, what happened?”

  “We drifted apart,” she says, shrugging. “Aidan’s just not who I see myself with. He didn’t know how to have fun. I mean, yes—studying is important, but I study all the time. Sometimes, I just want to hang out with my friends. He acted like we were forty years old instead of twenty, you know? When I’d suggest getting together with people, he always had something more important to do,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But hanging out with friends is important. Just like we’re doing by getting together at the cottage. God, I really need this vacation, Will. I’m so excited!”

  My stomach does a happy little barrel roll as I take in her big, happy smile and sparkling green eyes. She’s incredible, this girl sitting next to me. The total, complete package: smart, fun, compassionate, and beautiful.

  And I want her.

  I want her so fucking badly that sometimes I can’t even think straight.

  Wanting my best friend’s sister isn’t something I’m proud of. Sully would kill me twice if he knew how I felt about Emmy.

  And if I acted on those feelings? Let’s just say they’d be finding my body parts around Toronto for years to come.

  Despite being only three minutes older than Em, Sully takes his role of big brother very seriously. Em battled leukemia when she was five years old, and since then, he’s been absurdly overprotective.

  When Sully met Aidan during Christmas dinner at the Sullinger’s last year, he’d pulled him into one of the guest bedrooms and shut the door. Ten minutes later Aidan came out, trembling and pale, while Sully emerged looking triumphant. God only knows what form of death Sully promised Aidan if he ever mistreated his sister.

  Emmy’s phone buzzes with a text, and she digs around for it in her oversized purse.

  “Oh, shit,” she mutters a moment later.

  That sounds bad. “What’s up?”

  “No one else can make it to the cottage until the middle of the week.” She sighs and taps the screen. “Violet and Peyton can’t get time off from the pizza shop until then, and they need a ride because Peyton’s car broke down. Sully’s going to stay in town and wait for them, and Axel and Dylan will catch a ride up with him then.”

  Oh shit is right. That means I’ll be alone with Emmy at the cottage. Touchy-feely, happy, sweet Emmy.

  Images of her in a sexy bikini, splashing around the lake flash through my mind, and I white-knuckle the steering wheel.

  I thought being alone with her in the truck for a few hours during the drive to the cottage would be the hardest part of the trip for me.

  But this? Jesus.

  I’m so fucking screwed.

  Chapter Two

  EMMY

  Will swings the truck into the driveway of the cottage, and I scramble out before he comes to a full stop. Stretching my arms up in the air, I tilt my face toward the warm sun and spin around.

  “Yesssss! Vacation, I’m so ready for you!”

  I hear Will chuckling behind me. I turn and see him leaning against the truck bed with his arms crossed, smiling.

  My heart gives a little leap when I see that smile. I’ve been so lonely in New York City, but being with Will these past few hours has dialed my happiness meter up to ten.

  Everything about him makes me happy. I love his laid-back demeanor and silly teasing. Plus, no one is easier to talk to than Will. I should know—over the past eight months, I’ve spent more time talking to him than to anyone else.

  My parents have been consumed with their impending divorce, going back and forth with their lawyers trying to work out every last, miserable detail. I’m trying not to take their lack of interest in my life personally, but lately, when they call, it’s usually to give me a verbal slap because they think I’m doing something to screw up my life. Or they try to use me as a pawn in their stupid head games.

  I glance out over the still waters of the lake before turning around to survey the grounds.

  Will probably hires someone to do the landscaping during the year, because everything is absolutely impeccable. The entire yard is lush, green, and gorgeous, and the seasonal flowers planted around the cottage are in full bloom.

  I can’t resist doing an impromptu happy dance. Because I’m a terrible dancer, this probably looks like I’m swatting away a swarm of bees while being simultaneously struck by lightning.

  “What the hell was that?” Will asks. “Are you okay? Do I need to phone a medic?” He pulls my suitcase from the truck bed and places it on the ground.

  “What? You can’t recognize a happy dance when you see one?”

  “Is that what that was?” He raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. Epic fail. A score of 1.5 from the Canadian judge.”

  I snort and turn back around to face the cottage. Though calling this place a cottage is kind of laughable. It’s a luxury house on a ridiculously huge lot, with five bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, and is directly adjacent to the lake. The house has been in Will’s family since before he was even born. Because our mothers were close friends, his parents were kind enough to invite my family up here every year. I’m so glad that we’re trying to carry on the tradition.

  Will slides up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Ready to go inside, happy girl?”

  His voice is deep and soft, and it sends a blazing bolt of heat right through me, which zings straight to my long-neglected lady bits. It makes me all shivery. And though I try to hide my reaction, I’m afraid it’s another epic fail.

  It’s been months since Aidan and I broke up, and even longer since I’ve had sex. And though Will is still Will, and one of my oldest friends, he’s… different. The sweet, cute boy I grew up with is now a big, sexy hockey player.

  Honestly, any hot-blooded woman would have the same reaction if he’d wrapped his arms around them. Especially one who hasn’t had any action except her B.O.B. in months.

  I wasn’t trying to pump up his ego earlier when I said he looked rugged. Even though he’s always been in good shape, playing for the Smoke has really elevated his level of fitness. He’s gotten majorly cut (hello yummy biceps) and gained a lot of muscle.

  His dark blonde hair is longer now, curling up at the ends of his backward baseball cap. Since he got LASIK eye surgery last year, he has no need for his glasses anymore. I like this change a lot. His light blue eyes are one of his best features, and hiding those beauties behind a pair of frames was simply a crime.

  I mentally shake off my visceral response to his embrace and drag him toward the cottage. “Am I ready? Ready is my middle name.”

  “Really? I though
t it was Rose?” he teases.

  “Well, that’s better than Everett. William Everett Maverick?” I make a face. “Yikes.”

  He sighs and unlocks the door. “Remind me, why did I ever tell you that?”

  “Too many beers and a lost bet,” I say, grinning. “But don’t worry, I’ll only torture you with it until the end of time.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Just get in the house, Emmeline Rose Sullinger.”

  I give him a mock salute. “Yes sir, William Everett McBossyPants.”

  The inside of the cottage is just as beautiful as the outside. It’s all gleaming marble and hardwood floors, complete with stainless steel appliances.

  A black granite-topped island stands in the middle of the oversized kitchen, and a massive fireplace surrounded by decorative stones dominates one entire wall of the living room. Plush furniture in brown and cream colors completes the overall look.

  God, this place holds so many happy childhood memories for me.

  I feel a little guilty being so happy because I know it has to be extremely hard for Will to come up here every year. He and his parents spent a lot of happy summers in this cottage with us.

  Even though it’s been three years since the plane crash, it still seems like yesterday. Will had just turned eighteen, and I remember thinking how incredibly brave he’d been when he’d gotten the news. He’d wanted to handle everything himself, from making the funeral arrangements, dealing with the lawyers and his parents’ will, to greeting people at the funeral home. He’d seemed so very adult. So composed.

  After the funeral, I’d snuck next door to check on him and found him sitting on the floor of the living room, staring off into space. I hadn’t known what to say or do, so I’d just wrapped my arms around him and snuggled close. When he finally broke down, it shattered my heart into a million pieces. He’d cried so hard that I didn’t think he’d ever stop. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen him cry, and it really scared me. He’d held me tight and soaked my shirt straight through with his tears. I didn’t want to let him go, so we fell asleep holding each other that night.