17

MAYA

The walk to the truck felt miles long. My mind kept flashing back to the sterile hospital room and my mother’s stubborn demand. She wanted to meet the mysterious benefactor. Avoiding the topic was no longer an option.

Davies stood leaning against the brick wall outside the lecture hall. He wore a fitted black hoodie and dark jeans, looking way too good for a Tuesday afternoon. Girls passing by threw obvious stares his way. He ignored them. His dark eyes locked onto my face the second my boots hit the concrete steps.

"You look stressed," he noted, pushing off the wall to walk beside me.

"My mom wants to meet you." The words rushed out in one fast breath.

He did not miss a beat. "Okay. When?"

"You do not understand." A frustrated sigh escaped my chest. "She thinks you are just a friend who gave me a massive loan. If you go in there acting like an arrogant hockey captain, she will chew you up and spit you out. She has zero filter. Plus, her chemo makes her cranky."

"I can be charming." A cocky smirk spread across his lips. "When do we go?"

"Tonight. If you have time."

"I will make time."

Hours later, the heavy passenger door of his black truck slammed shut. The ride to the hospital passed in nervous silence. My fingers twisted the hem of my jacket. Davies noticed my anxiety. He reached across the center console. His large, warm hand covered my knuckles, offering a silent anchor. The touch sent a rush of heat straight up my arm. Jerking my hand away fast, a fake cough covered my panic. He let out a low chuckle but kept his focus on the road.

Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as we walked down the hospital corridor. Room 412 loomed ahead like an execution chamber. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, the steady beep of the heart monitor greeted us.

Mom sat propped up against thin pillows. A trashy reality TV show played on the small screen bolted to the wall. She turned her head. Her dark eyes scanned my face before zeroing in on the giant standing behind my shoulder.

"Mom, this is Davies," my voice sounded thin. "Davies, this is my mom."

Bracing for disaster, my muscles tensed. I expected a sarcastic remark or a cocky grin.

Instead, Davies stepped forward and did something shocking. He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a small, perfect box of gourmet dark chocolates. He handed them over with a polite nod.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, ma'am." His voice lacked any trace of arrogance. It sounded smooth, respectful, and warm. "Maya talks about you all the time."

My jaw dropped. He sounded like a perfect gentleman.

Mom took the box. Her skeptical frown melted into a look of pure delight. "Dark chocolate. You did your homework. Sit down, tall boy."

He grabbed the cheap plastic chair and dragged it close to the bed. For the next twenty minutes, Davies transformed into a certified saint. He answered her questions with patience. He laughed at her morbid jokes. He asked about her favorite TV shows and even debated plot holes with her. He radiated charm. The arrogant beast from the ice rink vanished, replaced by a sweet, attentive guy.

Watching him, a strange flutter started in my chest. He was too good at this.

"I need to grab a coffee," Davies announced, standing up. "Can I get you ladies anything?"

"Just water for me, sweetheart," Mom smiled.

"Back in a flash." He shot me a quick wink and slipped out of the room.

The heavy door clicked shut.

"You are sleeping with him."

The accusation hit me like a physical slap. Heat scorched my cheeks. "What? No! Mom, are you insane?"

"Do not play dumb with me, Maya." She pointed a thin finger at my flushed face. "I might have cancer, but my eyes work fine. The boy looks at you like you are the last drop of water in the desert. He is practically drooling. Something is clearly going on."

"You are delusional." Crossing my arms, my defense walls slammed up. "He is an arrogant asshole. We are just dealing with a situation. I would never be with a guy like that. He is toxic."

"Toxic?" A dry laugh left her throat. "He just brought me imported chocolate and listened to me complain about hospital food for twenty minutes. Nathan never even bought me a get-well card. This new boy is a keeper. Stop fighting it."

"There is nothing to fight! It is just an arrangement."

"Keep telling yourself that, kid."

Before the argument could escalate, a sudden wave of nausea hit her. Her face turned a sickly shade of gray. She lurched forward, clutching her stomach with a weak groan.

Panic spiked in my veins. "Mom! What is wrong? Should I hit the call button?"

The door pushed open. Davies walked in, holding two paper cups. He saw the scene and moved faster than a striking snake. He dropped the cups onto the side table. Grabbing a plastic basin from the sink counter, he slid it right under her chin just in time.

She retched, her frail body shaking violently.

Standing frozen, fear glued my boots to the floor.

Davies did not flinch. He grabbed a washcloth, ran it under the cold tap, and wrung it out. He sat back down beside her. His massive hand rubbed circles on her thin back.

"Breathe out, ma'am," he murmured. His deep voice acted like a grounding anchor in the chaotic room. "You are okay. Take it slow. Deep breath in."

He wiped the cool cloth over her sweating forehead. He showed no disgust. No hesitation. He handled her fragile state with a gentle, loving care that shattered every preconceived notion in my brain. Nathan always ran out of the room whenever she got sick. He hated hospitals.

Davies stayed. He held her steady until the nausea passed.

"Thank you," she gasped, leaning back against the pillows. She looked exhausted, but the gray tint faded from her skin.

"Anytime." He offered a soft smile, placing the basin aside. "Get some rest. We will head out so you can sleep."

Walking out of the hospital into the dark night, the chilly autumn wind hit my face. My mind spun in wild circles. The image of his large hand rubbing my mother's back burned behind my eyes. He was a walking contradiction. A violent brawler on the ice. A cocky playboy on campus. A gentle caretaker in a hospital room.

We climbed into the truck. The engine roared to life, breaking the heavy silence.

Streetlights flashed through the windshield, casting shifting shadows across his handsome profile.

"Your mom is a fighter," Davies broke the quiet. His eyes stayed glued to the road. "She has a lot of grit. I see where you get it from."

"She is stubborn." A weak sigh escaped my lips. "She hates showing weakness. Thank you for helping back there. You did not have to do that."

"I wanted to." He threw a quick glance my way. "She is important to you. That makes her important to me."

The words hung in the air, heavy and loaded with meaning. They crossed the boundary of our fake contract. They sounded too real.

He pulled up to the curb outside my dorm building. The campus paths sat empty under the dark sky. Putting the truck in park, he turned off the engine. The sudden silence felt deafening.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, his body shifted toward mine. His broad shoulder brushed against my arm. The space in the cabin shrank. He reached out. His knuckles brushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear. His touch felt like a live wire against my skin.

My breath caught in my throat.

His dark eyes dropped to my lips. The playful arrogance was gone. A raw, intense hunger replaced it. He leaned in slow, giving me plenty of time to pull away.

My body betrayed my logic. I did not move back. Instead, my chin tilted up. My eyes fluttered shut. The scent of wintergreen wrapped around me. His warm breath fanned across my cheek. We were inches away. A dangerous line was about to shatter.

A loud, obnoxious ringtone pierced the quiet cabin.

My eyes snapped open. The spell broke into a million pieces.

Jumping back, my shoulder hit the passenger door hard. Panic flooded my veins. Reaching into my coat pocket, the bright screen of my phone illuminated the dark truck. It was Elena.

"I have to go." My voice cracked, sounding breathless and frantic.

"Maya," Davies murmured, his jaw locking tight. Frustration burned in his dark eyes.

"Goodnight, Davies."

Shoving the heavy door open, my boots hit the concrete sidewalk. I slammed the door shut before he could say another word. My feet carried me toward the brick building in a fast, desperate sprint.

Pushing through the front entrance, my heart hammered against my ribcage. The heavy thumps echoed in my ears. I leaned my back against the cold glass door, watching his red taillights fade down the dark street.

Fear gripped my chest tight.

This was a massive mistake. The lines were blurring. His gentle touch at the hospital, his protective stance against Nathan, the raw heat in the truck, it all felt too real.

Closing my eyes, a harsh breath tore from my lungs.

I needed a reality check.

He was the Westbridge captain. He needed a fake girlfriend to fix his draft stock. I needed cash to keep my mother breathing. That was the entire deal. The contract sat on paper. It was a business transaction.

Developing feelings for Davies was never part of the plan. Letting him break down my walls would only lead to a destroyed heart. I survived Nathan's betrayal. Surviving a heartbreak from a guy like Davies would be impossible.

Opening my eyes, my jaw set with firm resolve. This was just a relationship on paper. The near kiss in the truck was a lapse in judgment. It meant nothing. I would never fall for him.