The Fake Out: a fake dating hockey romance (Vancouver Storm Book 2)
The Fake Out: a fake dating hockey romance: Chapter 5

“WELL.” I take a seat on the bench beside Hartley after McKinnon leaves. “Someone’s had a change of heart.” I put on a pretty smirk and do a fluttery, feminine finger wave, tucking my hair behind my ear.

Her mouth tightens like she wants to laugh. It’s such a nice break from this tense, nervous version of her I’ve been watching like a hawk for the last hour.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

“I’m guessing McKinnon’s apology wasn’t what you were expecting.”

Any humor in her expression drops. “He said, um.” Her nostrils flare, and she takes a deep breath like she’s trying to hold back from torching this place.

“What?”

“He made it seem like I asked to be his physio.” Her face goes red. “Like I was hung up on him.”

I’ll kill him. “Really.”

A shudder rolls through her, but she shakes it off. “And then the groin stuff.”

Oh, I remember. I almost lost it, seeing her discomfort while she was working on him. Seeing the way he looked at her. Even now, hot jealousy twists in my gut.

Her tongue taps her top lip, and she sneaks a reluctant glance at me. “I told him we were dating.”

My thoughts stop before a smile spreads over my face. “Really.”

Well, shit. This day just got a lot better. The smile is ear to ear now as her blush deepens. She’s so fucking cute when she’s embarrassed like this.

She looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “I, uh. I really wanted to get him back, and he hates you.” Her gaze lifts to mine, tentative. “Because you’re a better player than him.”

“Oh, I know.” My heart beats in my chest like a hummingbird. I really, really like this turn of events.

“If you don’t want to do it—”

“I’ll do it.” I beam at her like I’m in a goddamned toothpaste commercial. “I’ll happily do it, Hartley.”

Her eyes close and she shakes her head. “I knew you were going to be so smug about this. Okay, we need to set the terms.” She wears her thinking face. “We’ll date for half a season. Until January first.” Her gaze flicks over me, assessing. “Or earlier, if either of you gets traded.”

A weight thunks in my gut. It doesn’t matter if I’m the captain; if Ward doesn’t like what he sees, I’m out.

“January first. Deal.”

“You can’t mess around with other girls while we’re pretending to be together. It’ll ruin the illusion.”

“Of course not.” That’s not really an issue these days.

Her eyes narrow. “Why are you agreeing to this so easily?”

I picture us making out while a pissed-off McKinnon watches on, and blood rushes to my dick. My gaze drops to her full mouth. I bet her lips are soft. They look soft.

Alarm rises in her eyes. Shit. She asked a question, and saying that I’m into her is going to send her running.

“Oh.” Hazel’s expression falls. “I see.”

Panic tightens in my gut.

“You want to look good as captain,” she says.

“Yes,” I rush out, filled with relief. “Exactly.”

She hums, thinking. “The fans went nuts last year when Jamie and Pippa started dating.”

Clean up your act this year, Ward said in his office.

A hockey player with a nice hometown girl on his arm is the fastest way to clean up a reputation.

I wouldn’t exactly call Hartley nice, but she’s well-liked by the players and organization. Ward wants a responsible guy, and Hartley’s my ticket.

“I’ll play your devoted boyfriend and do everything I can to piss McKinnon off,” I tell her, “if you help me look like the captain the team needs. Ward wants a guy with a squeaky-clean image. You’re great at your job and everyone likes you.”

Her lips part in surprise. “Thanks.”

“It’s the truth.”

I shrug, clearing my throat. We tease each other, but we don’t compliment each other like that. I’m not sure why it slipped out.

“I’ll need you to go to events and stuff with me. There’s a charity event in December and the League Classic game on New Year’s Eve.”

It’s at a local ski resort that doesn’t count toward the season, but the teams wear the original hockey sweaters and we play at an outdoor rink. It’s a nostalgia thing.

“I’ll talk to Ward about us,” I add, “but I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” Pippa and Streicher dated last year when Pippa was working for the team.

“Thanks.” She plays with the ends of her hair, twiddling them between her fingers. “I’ll go to the game on Friday. Connor’s playing, right?”

I nod, and I can see the cogs turning in her head.

“I’ll sit with Pippa, and we’ll go out with the team after. I’m sure he’ll be there. That’s when we can—” Our eyes meet, and she seems to lose her train of thought. “Everyone will see us together.”

“And you’ll wear my jersey.” Pride weaves through me at the image.

“Um. No.” She makes a face. “I don’t wear guys’ jerseys.”

She wore McKinnon’s jersey, but I don’t bring that up. “If you want to get to McKinnon, you need to be all in. You’ll wear it.”

She holds my gaze for a long moment before I get a tiny nod. “And I want to tell Pippa the plan. She won’t believe it otherwise.”

“You don’t think I can be convincing?” I think about how her waist felt under my hand, how fucking incredible her hair smelled. “We should probably talk about boundaries, in case I go too far. Agree on a safe word and all that.”

Determination and fury flash in her pretty eyes. “I really want to fuck with him.” A beat. “You can’t go too far.”

Jesus Christ, Hartley’s hot when she’s pissed off. I’m half-hard. My eyes drop to her mouth. “No safe word. Got it.”

“Miller.”

“What?” I’m still staring at her mouth.

“This is fake.”

“I know.”

“Don’t get feelings.”

“I won’t.” I wonder if she’d let me kiss her in front of McKinnon.

She dips her head to catch my gaze. “You need to agree to that without staring at my mouth and drooling.”

A laugh slips out of me, and I wink at her. “I wasn’t drooling.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She clears her throat. “Seriously. Don’t get feelings, because I won’t.”

Dangerous. This is so fucking dangerous, playing this game with her. She’s going to get to know me and run screaming in the other direction. That’s the way it works with guys like my dad and me.

Still, I’m sticking my hand out to shake hers, pulse whooshing in my ears.

“It’s just for show.” I love how her eyes flare with something interesting as I step into her space. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”

My hand envelops hers, and my focus narrows to where we touch. Her hand is delicate and soft, fitting right into mine. She’s so pretty and mean and perfect, and this is going to fucking ruin me.

“Oh, Hartley.” I just give her my signature cocky smile. “This is going to be so, so fun.”