By admin Fake Dating My Ex’s Favourite Hockey Player Novel CH 95
TESSA
God help me.
Of course it’s Aaron freaking Cobalt. Because why not?
—
There he is gliding across the ice like it’s an extension of his body, all smooth lines and
effortless control. He isn’t just good. He was stupidly, unfairly, annoyingly good.
Left winger for the NYC Titans, but honestly? If Liam is the heart of the team, Aaron is the
sharp edge. Fast, unpredictable, and lethal when it counts. The kind of player that makes
defence lines cry and sports commentators lose their minds.
Everyone loves to compare them
—
Liam, the golden boy center, all power and precision. Aaron, the chaos wrapped in charm, turning plays into magic like it was no big deal. Together,
they make the Titans impossible to beat. Separately? Still a damn nightmare.
And of course, he’s the last person I want to see right now.
I spin on my heel, making a beeline for the exit, but my stupid heels betray me. The sharp
CLACK, CLACK echoes louder than his skates slicing the ice, and I hear him stop. I can practically feel his eyes burning into the back of my head.
“Tessa?”
Crap.
So much for a clean getaway.
I pause, inhale slowly, and turn around. I don’t run – I never do. Even if I do kind of want
the ground to swallow me whole right now.
Instead, I paste on the fakest, brightest smile I can manage and look him right in those stupidly gorgeous eyes.
“What?”
For some reason, Aaron starts skating over to me. He hops off the ice and casually swaps out his skates for a pair of flip–flops. Bright blue. With pineapples.
I stare. “Seriously?”
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He glances down at his ridiculous flip–flops, then back up at me like I’m the weird one. Typical. “You finally done?”
His voice drips with that usual Aaron–level arrogance canal than talking to me.
–
like he’d rather be getting a root
I cross my arms. Not because I’m defensive or anything. Just cold. Obviously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He gives me a look. One of those ‘God, you’re exhausting looks‘ he’s basically trademarked
by now.
I scowl and rephrase my question. “Why do you care, asshole?”
He doesn’t answer. Just walks right past me, bumping my shoulder. I bend down to yank off my heel – honestly considering chucking it at his big, stupid head – but before I can, he’s already digging into his duffel bag.
He pulls out his keys, glances over at my tragic shoe situation, and lets out an exaggerated
sigh.
“My car’s outside,” he mutters, eyeing my heels. “Try not to twist your ankle before we get
there.”
“Car?” I blink. “Yeah, no. I’m not getting into-”
Before I can finish, he’s already moving. In two long strides, he’s in front of me, his hand wrapping around my arm. Not rough, but firm. Like he’s not giving me a choice.
–
I’m only doing this because Cam “Like hell you’re not,” he says, low and sharp. “Look asked me to. You don’t want to be near me? Fine. But don’t be stupid. It’s late. It’s dark. And this isn’t exactly the safest neighbourhood to walk around in stilettos.” There’s something bitter in his voice, though I don’t know why.
I think about all our past interactions and realise this is probably the longest sentence he’s ever made. Hell, I wasn’t sure he was capable of communication.
“For Cam?” I echo. “Why would Cam tell you to take me home?”
But I already know the answer. Cam definitely knew Lyle was going to ditch me. Hell, he probably saw it coming before I did.
“Wait… is that why you’re still here?” I eye him skeptically. “You were waiting? Why didn’t
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you come find me? I’ve been in my office since, like, nine in the morning.”
He pauses, eyes flicking toward mine like he’s debating what to say. Then, of course, he does the most Aaron thing possible.
Ignores it completely.
“You forgetting anything?” he asks, already heading for the door.
I huff, clutching my heels in one hand. “No.”
“Good.” He pulls the door open and glances back, just once. The look in his eyes is oddly intense, for a moment I think he has something to say, but he clenches his jaw and walks out
the door.
God, I hate him.
I follow.
We finally make it to the parking lot. I’m walking behind Aaron, more like trailing after him, and trying not to stare.
But I do.