Fake Dating My Ex’s Favourite Hockey Player Novel CH 123
DIANA
I have no one to blame but myself.
This is what happens when you overestimate people. Emilia really is as pitiful as I remembered not even interesting enough to provoke. Just exhausting.
I’m already heading for the elevator when I text Amanda.
You have three minutes to get a car and prep the jet. Miss that window, and start rewriting your CV.
I don’t care how impossible it is is easy
–
that’s what she gets for spying on me and not having the brains to do it right. No job that involves me
—
As I near the elevator, the doors slide open and someone steps out tall, broad, hoodie up, arms full. A bouquet of slightly wilted flowers in one hand, greasy paper bag in the other. It smells like overpriced pasta.
pause, tilt my head.
So this is the idiot who’s been pacing outside like
a lost
I should ignore him. I almost do. But then I feel it irritation.
—
that tight coil behind my ribs. Not curiosity. Not interest. Just pure, sharp
And I act on it.
He doesn’t see me until I reach out and grab his arm.
He jolts, instinctively pulling back – but I’m already close. His hood slips off.
Pretty. Predictable.
“Tessa’s asleep,” I say smoothly. “She’s off tomorrow. So unless you’re planning on doing laps outside the door again,
a spine and come back after practice.”
His eyes flick up to mine, confused. “Do I know you?”
I sigh. “You really don’t. Which is part of the problem.”
I don’t let go. Not yet.
“I’ve been watching you stand there for the past hour, working up the courage to knock. You of all people should know she has blocks for brains, so she’s certainly not a mind reader. If you want a place in her life, you’ll have to speak.”
He bristles: Good.
“Want to be her second choice?” I ask. “Start acting like you want it. Show up. Be present. She spirals? You pull her out. She pushes you away? You stay anyway. Don’t wait for an invitation. Take the room. If she won’t give you her heart, take it.”
Be the one idiot in her life who actually follows through for once.
–
I consider telling him the truth that admitting he’s her beloved Theo would probably help his odds. Maybe wake her up. That the reason he hasn’t heard from her in a week is because I had her phone hacked, got tired of their saccharine exchanges, and severed the
connection.
Then I snort to myself.
I have to care first.
I drop his arm and straighten the collar of my coat.
He just stares at me stunned, blinking like I slapped him with a hard truth he didn’t ask for.
I roll my eyes and step into the elevator. He doesn’t follow.
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3:42 PM P P.
Chapter 123
Figures.
It’s been three minutes.
Amanda better be waiting downstairs.
0
0
Or ready to explain to my fiancé exactly how I fed her fingers to Vixi.
LACEY
“Do we get vodka?” Julie asks, feigning innocence like she didn’t just sneak a bottle into the cart.
I don’t even look at her. I snatch it out of her hand and shove it back on the shelf. “We’re going to sip and paint. Not blackout and smear vodka–soaked trauma on a canvas. And you’re deranged when you’re drunk.”
“That was one time! And how was I supposed to know that waiter was married-”
“Whatever,” I mutter, wheeling the cart away before she can plead her case. We only came here for a few things, but Julie’s brain treats supermarkets like they’re memory vaults. Suddenly, she remembers everything they’re out of at home. She also insists her art is only “half–decent unless she’s slightly inebriated.
Since the cruise ended and with it, my decades–long friendship with the concept of hope I’ve been trying to figure out who I am without a wedding ring. Mostly, it’s been me, working through the darkness in my head and trying not to act on the worst parts of myself.
Spoiler: it’s going terribly.
No matter how many metaphors my therapist throws at me, I still can’t find even footing. And yet, I haven’t given up. I’ve been in and out of fertility clinics, still hoping one of them will finally give me some good news.
They haven’t. Not one. Another dead end. But at least I have my 4 PM Wednesday sob–fests with Dr. Lynne to look forward to. It’s depressing that that’s the highlight of my week.
Julie leads me to the pads aisle – a war zone of choice
and launch versus no wings. I hang back with the cart, letting my eyes wander.
–
full–blown debate about absorbency
levels and wings
Naturally, they land on a 6’2 slab of man–god only a few feet away. Muscled. Delicious. Holding a baby. Single dad? Good with kids? Doesn’t matter. both are turn–ons. He’s in the feminine care aisle, which means he’s not squeamish about women’s anatomy. Yummy. Probably has a sister. And that beard? Thick enough to send my ovaries into cardiac arrest.
I’m one internal monologue away from ditching Julie when a woman walks up and grabs his free hand. The
on his finger. And just like that, a bucket of cold water dumps over my entire libido.
So much for that fantasy
Maybe it’s the universe trying to tell me there won’t be a marriage number four.
And honestly? Fair.
I catch the wedding band
“I was at Zane’s last game,” Julie announces once she’s finally satisfied with her absurdly specific pad selection. “They’ve been so shitty this season, it’s a crime they still charge for tickets.”
I scoff. “Cut the man some slack. He just lost his fiancée. Of course he’s not probably on edge.”
on
game. And with Stone on trial, the whole team’s
Julie gives me a look so dry it could peel paint. “Imagine defending Chicago. Could never be me.”
Classic Julie. Acts all aloof, but she’s her brother’s ride–or–die. If Liam hates someone, she hates them harder. If Liam loves something, it’s basically gospel. Including New York. Come to think of it, she hasn’t gone off about Liam in a while. Wonder if something happened between them again. Not that it matters. They fight like it’s an Olympic sport and they both go for gold.
She turns back to the shelves, muttering, “Didn’t you say that Zane guy’s been getting real cosy doesn’t exactly scream ‘grief–stricken widower‘ to me.”
With his fiancée’s best friend? That
“They both lost the same person,” I say carefully. “Maybe it… helps to be around someone who also lost Becca. They can find comfort in
each other.”
Julie looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Even you don’t believe that crap. If I died, the only thing comforting my partner would
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3:42 PM P P ·
Chapter 123
be my ghost. And maybe a chainsaw.”
“Julie,” I gasp. “You can’t just say shit like that.”
She shrugs, completely unbothered. “I just did.”
0
We head for the cashier. After paying, we get into a mild, completely avoidable argument over what to do with her mountain of impulse buys. Drop them at her parents‘ place first? Or leave them in the car while we go paint?
I guilt–trip her into submission. Something about how I’ve been drowning in work, still carved out time for her sorry ass, and this is how she repays me. She caves, and we agree to do our girl’s night first.
Once we’re in the car, she buckles up and immediately dives for the back seat. She pulls out a bag of cheese balls, rips it open, and buries her face in it like she hasn’t seen food in days. She offers me one.
I grimace. “Pass,” I mutter, starting the engine.
She’s quiet for a beat, then asks, “Have you considered it?”
I glance over, “Considered what?”
You know… other options.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I’m still looking. Hoping something changes.”
Julie exhales, gently this time. “I know you want to get pregnant. Really. But you also have to consider that it might never happen.”
“I can’t give up,” I say, shaking my head even though – deep down — I already have. But some things, you lie to yourself about just to stay upright. “If I do, that’s like giving up on the one thing I’ve always wanted. I want to be a mum. The normal way.”
“Even if the normal way isn’t possible?”
I glance at her. “Since when did you become the pessimist in this friendship? That’s my job.”
She licks cheesy powder off her fingers, totally unfazed. “Someone’s gotta use the brain cells you clearly left behind today. Be grateful.”
She pauses. Her voice softens just a little. “Look, I don’t think there’s any unnatural way to become a mum. Have you thought about adoption? You’d be saving a kid from the system. Racking up good karma points. Win–win.”
I blink, surprised. I haven’t actually thought about it. Not once. My therapist even brought it up. Has she? Maybe she thought I wouldn’t be open to it.
To be fair, she would’ve been right.
Still, I frown. Should I fire her for being lazy or just for being correct?
“I want my own kids, Julie,” I say after a long moment.
—
“How about I have babies and give them to you? Would that make you happy?”
who charges, enough to feed a small village –
–
hasn’t
I shoot her a look. “Don’t even joke about that. And get your foot off my dashboard.”
“Touchy,” she mutters, dragging her leg down. “But seriously, just think about it. I know moving on is hard for you, but you can’t keep living in waiting rooms. If one thing doesn’t work out, try the next. That’s how life goes.”
–
I glance over at her all sunshine and zero filter. Julie Calloway isn’t just resilient, she’s relentless. Nothing sticks to her for long. No heartbreak, no loss. She keeps going. She always has.
Sometimes Lwish I had even a fraction of that in me.
Maybe then, it wouldn’t be so hard to breathe.
I tighten my grip on the wheel. “You know it’s not that easy for me.”
The light dims in her eyes, just a bit. “Yeah,” she says. “I know.”
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