By admin Fake Dating My Ex’s Favourite Hockey Player Novel CH 107
EMILIA
I knock on the door to Tessa’s home office for what feels like the hundredth time. Still locked.
Of course it is.
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I shift the tray in my hands
–
a small bowl of fruit, a plain oatmeal, a few slices of toast. Nothing fancy. Just something soft, light. Something she can’t argue with.
She hasn’t eaten since she locked herself in there yesterday. I’m sure of it.
“Tess,” I call gently. “I made you breakfast.”
Silence.
I wait, like maybe this time will be different. It isn’t.
I sigh, resting my forehead against the door.
I
When I first came back three weeks ago, I let myself believe her behaviour always two steps ahead of herself count for something.
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to the station, hadn’t she? Kept her promise. That had to
would bounce back. She’d followed as temporary. That the Tessa I knew-
–
stubborn, bright,
But the longer I stay, the more I watch her unravel
–
– quietly, steadily-
–
the more I realise I might’ve come back to a stranger.
the w
wood. “Tessa? Please… just say something.”
I close my eyes and raise my voice just enough to be heard through
Still nothing.
“I’m worried about you.”
And this time, the words come out smaller than I mean
hem to. Because they’re true. And I hate how helpless they make me sound.
For a second, nothing.
Then, finally, her voice is muffled and thin. “I’m busy, Emilia. Just leave the food at the door.”
It’s not much, but it’s enough to make hope bloom in my chest, stupid and stubborn. “You’ll eat it, right? At least take a few bites. And maybe, maybe you’ll go in today? Or tomorrow? Just to get some air”
“Just drop it by the door.”
The way she cuts me off stings more than I want it to. I press my lips together, bite down on the instinct to push. To lecture. To snap.
Tessa’s put up with worse from me. I owe her patience. Even now.
So I set the tray down quietly. I stare at the closed door for a second longer, then step back.
Never thought I’d live to see the day I’d be begging my workaholic best friend to go to work.
Anything. Anything to get her out of that damn office.
“Lyle, you absolute bastard,” I mutter under my breath before getting ready to head over to the bakery.
If she’d just listened to me and not brought him as her date… Ugh. She hasn’t said much about what happened, but she didn’t have to. It doesn’t take a gemus to put the pieces together. Whatever he did whatever he said it broke something in her.
And part of me hopes he steps in front of traffic. A small part. The rational part. Obviously.
I wish Liam was here. He would know the right thing to do. The right thing to say.
As I walk, I catch myself smiling like an idiot.
Liam.
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3:35 PM P
Chapter 107
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Just thinking his name is enough to turn the sky a shade brighter. His apartment key still sits on my vanity table, and every time I catch sight of it, I squeal. Out loud. Like an actual child.
It still doesn’t feel real. Boyfriend. Liam Calloway is my boyfriend.
Yeah. That’s going to take a while to sink in.
We haven’t had much of a honeymoon phase. Not with the Calloways drama, Becca’s funeral, the start of the regular season, and Liam currently in Boston for an away game. It’s been chaos. Emotional, exhausting chaos.
try not to think about Becca. But when I do, it always leaves a bitter taste.
–
She wasn’t a bad person. Not to me, at least — not like I expected. I mean, who handles their fiancé’s ex being around with that much composure? I used to think she hated me. Maybe she did. But if she did, she never showed it.
She didn’t deserve to go like that.
An allergy. Something so… ordinary. She planned her wedding down to the hour, probably spent a small fortune on that cruise, and in the end, she didn’t even get to walk down the aisle.
It’s just tragic. And it makes me feel… awful.
—
I would’ve asked Tessa to help straighten my curls, but with her current disdain for the human race, I had to settle for another YouTube tutorial. It took forever, and they still turned out uneven, but whatever. Small wins.
I’m barely inside the bakery when my phone buzzes
–
a video call from Liam.
I answer without thinking, and the moment I see his face, I smile.
“Hey,” I say.
He looks tired – freshly showered, hair damp, probably post–practice–sitting somewhere that looks like a hotel room. Last night he texted that he was rooming with someone named Murphy.
“Hey yourself, beautiful,” he says, smiling. “Where are you?”
“I just got to the bakery.”
“Back entrance?”
“Yeah.”
“Look in the corner. I left something there for you.”
1 frown. “You’re in Boston.”
“And”
“And how did you leave me something in New York from Boston?”
“You ask too many questions. Just go look.”
I follow his instructions, round the corner – and immediately spot a sleek little box tucked on the windowsill. Expensive–looking. Suspiciously so.
My frown deepens. He sees it and laughs.
“Okay, go on. Let’s hear the complaint. What is it this time? You don’t want me spending the hundreds of millions in my bank account on you?”
“Don’t say it like that. That makes it worse.” I pick up the box, inspecting the shiny green packaging. “Also, why does this look like it was gift–wrapped by a leprechaun?”
“I told them not to go overboard,” he says with mock innocence. “You want me to have them change the colour next time?”
“Just… tone down the emerald extravaganza, maybe.”
He grins. “Duly noted.”
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1:35 PM P
Chapter 107
“Shouldn’t you be doing something hockey–related right now? Like… practicing? Or stretching Or sacrificing a goat in the name of
victory?”
“Nah.” He leans back in his chair. “I’m currently busy talking to my lucky charm. Coach will live.”
“Flattery,” I mutter. “You’re getting cocky.”
“No, I’m getting better at being honest.” His smile fades slightly, just enough to make my heart skip. “I miss you.”
My chest tightens. “I miss you too.”
“Open the box.”
“Right now?”
“Please,”
I pop the lid. Inside is a delicate bracelet
“Liam….”
–
thin gold, with a tiny star charm dangling in the centre. My breath catches.
saw it and thought of you,” he says. “Because you’re… you know. My north star or whatever.”
I blink fast. He’s too much sometimes.
“You’re cheesier than a Chicago deep–dish,” I whisper, heart pounding. “But thank you. I love it.”
His smile softens. “Good. Now wear it every day I play so I can win.”
“That’s not how luck works.”
“Don’t ruin the illusion.”
“Fine. I’ll wear it every day. But only because you’re currently being adorable and it’s disarming.”
“Good.”
He leans forward like he’s trying to reach through the screen. “Now, tell me about your day. Start from the part where you woke up thinking about me.”
I laugh, sinking onto a nearby stool.
And I do exactly that.
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