By admin Fake Dating My Ex’s Favourite Hockey Player Novel CH 33
I let Emilia take the window seat, mostly because she looked like she needed it. She tucks herself into the corner, pulling out a book as I settle beside her.
The space between us is small–too small. Our arms brush when she shifts. Our knees bump when I adjust my seatbelt. Every accidental touch sends a spark of awareness through me.
The worst part? I don’t think it’s one–sided.
She’s pretending to read, but I can see the way her fingers grip the edges of the pages too tightly, the way her eyes flick to me when she thinks I’m not looking.
I should say something. Make a joke. Break the tension.
But then the plane jolts as we taxi down the runway, and Emilia’s hand shoots out, gripping my arm.
I glance down at her, surprised. “You okay?”
She nods quickly. Too quickly.
It rings every single alarm bell in my head.
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re scared of flying?”
“No,” she says, but her fingers tighten.
I bite back a smile. “Right. Totally believe you.”
She scowls but doesn’t let go.
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The plane lifts off, the pressure pushing us back against our seats. Emilia inhales sharply, her nails digging into my forearm.
I shift slightly, turning my palm up as an invitation.
She hesitates. Then, slowly, carefully, her fingers slide into mine.
My breath catches.
I don’t look at her, and she doesn’t look at me. But neither of us pulls
away.
Minutes pass. The plane evens out, the seatbelt sign dings off.
She could let go now. She doesn’t.
I tighten my grip just a little, just enough for her to know I’m here.
Just enough to let myself believe–for now–that maybe, just maybe, she wants to hold on too.
LIAM
The hum of the plane fills the silence between us.
Emilia’s fingers are still laced with mine, her grip is not as tight as before but it’s still there. I don’t mention it, though.
I also don’t mention how warm her hand is, or how her thumb rests just slightly against mine, like she forgot to move it.
She’s staring out the window now, her book abandoned in her lap. She hasn’t turned a page in fifteen minutes.
“See anything interesting?” I ask, my voice low.
She turns her head, eyes flicking to mine. “Clouds.”
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“Fascinating.”
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She rolls her eyes, but there’s a small, almost reluctant smile playing on her lips. “You asked.”
I lean back in my seat, shifting slightly so our arms touch again. “I did. But you could’ve lied. Told me you saw something cool. A UFO. A portal to another dimension. Something.”
She huffs a quiet laugh. “Right. Next time, I’ll make up a story.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Her fingers twitch slightly against mine, and I swear I feel a spark run up
my arm.
She notices then. The way we’re still holding hands.
Her gaze drops, and I expect her to let go, to make a joke about it, to do something to break whatever this is.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she shifts, tucking one leg under the other, turning more toward me. “Why are you so calm?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Because I’ve been on a plane before?”
She glares. “So have I. Doesn’t mean I like it.”
“Right. So, I should be panicking with you?”
She exhales sharply. “No. But maybe you could-” She hesitates. “I don’t know. Distract me or something?”
I tilt my head, considering her words briefly. Then, before she can take it back, I reach for the book in her lap.
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“Hey-”
Ignoring her protest, I flip to a random page. “Alright, let’s see what kind of stuff you read.”
“Liam-”
“Oh wow, this guy just gazed into her stormy eyes,” I say, smirking as I skim the text. “His grip tightened on her waist, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he whispered-”
Emilia lunges for the book, her face burning. “Stop.”
I hold it out of reach, chuckling. “What? This is quality content.”
“Give it back.”
I grin. “You want me to read out loud? Might really help with the
distraction.”
“Liam.”
The warning in her voice is clear, but I’m enjoying this too much.
I flip another page dramatically. “Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized-”
Emilia grabs my wrist.
I freeze.
Not because of the touch–we’ve been touching for a while now–but because she’s really close.
She’s half leaning over me, her eyes wide with exasperation, her fingers wrapped around my wrist like she’s debating whether to fight me for the
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book or strangle me.
And suddenly, I’m very aware of how little space there is between us.
Her gaze flickers to mine. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something, but no words come out.
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