By admin Fake Dating My Ex’s Favourite Hockey Player Novel CH 30
17
EMILIA
The week leading up to Zane’s cruise goes by faster than I thought it would.
I keep myself busy at the bakery, but it’s impossible to ignore how empty it feels without Liam popping in like he used to. Cam stops by once or twice, but after a while, he starts making excuses–something about Coach doubling down on practice. I don’t push. I know it’s really about Liam.
I told Liam not to contact me until the cruise, and to my surprise, he’s actually listening. No texts. No calls. Nothing.
It should feel like a win. It doesn’t.
By the time Friday rolls around, I’m packed and ready to leave for Chicago. The bakery is closing early, so I spend the afternoon in Tessa’s apartment, double–checking my suitcase and trying not to check my phone. J
But when I finally do, there’s nothing. No missed calls. No messages. Just
silence.
I exhale and shake it off. This is what I wanted.
Right?
I toss my phone onto the bed and zip up my suitcase, trying to ignore the weird knot in my stomach. It’s not like I expected Liam to go back on his word. He’s stubborn, but he listens–when he wants to.
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This is good. Clean. Simple.
And yet, I still find myself thinking about him.
I grab my bags and head downstairs. The bakery closed an hour ago, but I still have a few things to do before my flight. It’s only a fifteen minute walk from Tessa’s so it doesn’t take long before I get there.
I let myself in through the back, the familiar smell of sugar and warm bread wrapping around me.
It’s comforting.
It also makes me think of the first time Liam showed up here. To think of it, I was baking bread that morning too.
I was leaving the bread off to cool when I looked up to him standing in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he was welcome.
I shake the thought away and get to work.
Thirty minutes later, I’m wiping down the counters when the bell over the front door chimes. My stomach clenches–because no one is supposed to
be here.
I turn around, heart pounding, and see Mrs. Beckett standing in the doorway.
I try not to think too hard about the disappointment I feel when I smile at
her.
She cradles a baby in her arms and my he swells. “Mrs. Beckett!”
Mrs. Beckett walks in with a warm smile, gently bouncing the baby in her arms. “I hope I’m not interrupting, sweetheart,” she says, her voice as soft
as ever.
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“Of course not!” I wipe my hands on my apron and rush over. “You didn’t tell me you were stopping by.”
She chuckles. “I didn’t plan to, but little Theo here refused to sleep, and I figured a little stroll might help.”
It’s been a month since she gave birth to Theo. She started bringing him to the bakery this week on days when his restlessness got out of hand.
I glance down at the baby, his tiny face scrunched up like he’s about to
cry. My heart melts. “Oh, buddy, giving your mama a hard time?”
Mrs. Beckett laughs. “You know how it is.” She tilts her head. “What about you? I thought you’d be packing for trip.”
Our
I force a smile. “I am. Just had a few things to finish
to finish up here first.”
She studies me for a moment, then sighs. “That boy of yours hasn’t been around lately.”
My stomach tightens. “He’s not my boy.”
The words slip out before I can stop them.
For a good five seconds, I panic, sneaking a glance at Mrs. Beckett, but she doesn’t seem suspicious.
Thank God. I signed an NDA, after all.
She just gives me a knowing look. “Mm–hmm.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t stay annoyed. She’s known me too long, seen too much.
“Come sit with us for a bit,” she says, adjusting Theo in her arms. “I could use the company.”
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I hesitate. “Yeah, I’d like that. You don’t mind if I leave soon?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.”
I sit beside her, and she hands Theo over to me. He wiggles in my arms, cooing, his tiny face scrunching up like he’s seconds away from a meltdown. I try adjusting him, but he’s squirmy, and I’m pretty sure I’m doing it wrong.
“We haven’t talked much with how hectic things have been with Theo and the bakery,” Mrs. Beckett says, watching me struggle with an amused smile. “I just wanted to check in. Make sure you’re doing okay.”
I try rocking Theo gently, but his breaths start coming faster like he’s about to cry.
I swallow hard, shifting him awkwardly. “I’m fine,” I say, even though my grip on the baby is probably saying otherwise.
Mrs. Beckett chuckles, reaching over to adjust my hold. “You’re stiff as a board, sweetheart. Relax. Babies can sense when you’re nervous.”
Easier said than done. But I take a deep breath, loosen my grip a little, and–miraculously–Theo settles. He lets out a tiny sigh, his little fingers curling into my shirt.
I feel something in my chest unclench.
Mrs. Beckett watches me with a soft smile, “You’re really okay?”
I nod automatically. “Yeah. Just… busy.”
She hums, not looking convinced. “You know, you don’t have to tell me everything. But if you ever want to talk…”
I don’t say anything.
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Because I do want to talk. About Liam. About how weird it’s been without him. About how I catch myself reaching for my phone before remembering we agreed not to speak until the cruise.
But I can’t.
So instead, I just smile and look down at Theo, who’s now staring up at me with big, sleepy eyes.
“Thanks, Mrs. Beckett,” I say.
She pats my knee. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
“How are Mr. Beckett and Angel?” I ask, thinking about her husband and daughter.
“They’re both well. Angel caught the flu, so my husband’s been with her all day. I’m on Theo duty.”
“Poor Angel.”
“I know. She really wanted to see that new kids‘ movie, but we’ll have to wait until she’s better.” She waves a hand, shifting the conversation. “Enough about me. How are you feeling? I’d never agree to go to my ex’s wedding, that’s for sure. That Liam of yours must be really secure. He’s a keeper.”
Theo grabs my finger in his tiny fist, squeezing hard. I laugh. “It’s funny how little I care about Zane or the wedding.”
Mrs. Beckett gives me a knowing look. “You care more about whatever it is you and Liam are disagreeing on, right?”
I freeze. She’s way off, but she takes my reaction as confirmation and pats my shoulder. “I’m old, not blind.”
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“You’re not old.”
“Damn right I’m not.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”
Mrs. Beckett grins. “And you’re deflecting.”
I open my mouth to argue but shut it just as fast. She’s not wrong.
Theo tightens his grip on my finger, his tiny face scrunching up like he’s deep in thought. It’s distracting enough that I don’t have to answer right away, but Mrs. Beckett just waits, patient as ever.
With a sigh, I finally say, “Liam and I aren’t disagreeing about anything.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, fine,” I correct, “we’re not fighting. We just… decided not to talk until the cruise.”
Her eyes widen. “On purpose?”
I nod.
“Honey, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I groan, leaning my head back against the couch. “I know.”
Mrs. Beckett lets out a soft laugh. “You kids and your dramatics.”
I smile despite myself, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift. Because now that I’ve said it out loud, it sounds even worse.
I miss him.
And I still have no idea what I’m going to say when I finally see him
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again.
I walk Mrs. Beckett and Theo to the door, leaning against the frame as she turns back to look at me.
“Have a safe trip. Have lots of fun. And most importantly, do not go back to your horrible ex.”
I laugh, loud and sudden. “Roger that.”
Mrs. Beckett smirks. “Good. I’d hate to fly out there just to knock some sense into you.”
Theo babbles something unintelligible, waving his tiny fists like he’s backing her up.
I grin and reach out to ruffle the soft curls on his head. “See? Even Theo agrees.”
She chuckles, adjusting him on her hip. “Smart boy.” Then she gives me one last knowing look. “And don’t overthink things with Liam. Sometimes, all it takes is a conversation.”
Easier said than done.
But I nod anyway. “I’ll try.”
Mrs. Beckett hums, clearly not convinced, but she lets it go. “Take care, sweetheart.”
“You too.”
I watch as she walks across the street, rocking Theo gently as she hums a tune. Once she disappears, I exhale and step back inside, closing the door behind me.
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For the first time in days, I let myself think about Liam.
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And I realise–despite the silence, despite everything–I still can’t wait to see him.
So when the bell above the door chimes again, this time, my heart races, but not from anxiety. No panic. No second–guessing.
I grab my suitcases, take a breath, and look up–right into the unsure look on Liam’s face.
He looks exhausted.
He looks as sexy as sin.
I smile. “Ready for Chicago?”
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