18

MAYA

"Wake up and look at this madness before my brain short-circuits!"

Elena shoved a bright smartphone directly into my line of sight. Blinking against the harsh morning glare, my vision slowly focused on the cracked glass. A popular campus sports page dominated her screen.

Right in the center sat a high-definition photo of Davies and me at the ice rink.

He stood close behind me. His thick, muscular arms wrapped around my frame, guiding my hands over the fiberglass hockey stick. My body looked tiny inside his oversized blue practice jersey. A cocky, playful smirk stretched across his handsome face. My own cheeks bore a bright red flush. We looked lost in our own private bubble, oblivious to the world.

Underneath the photo, bold text screamed the headline: *Westbridge Captain Tamed? Davies Jnr spotted giving private ice lessons to Dogfang's ex-queen. Nathan found shaking.*

"Students are eating this up," Elena gasped, pulling her phone back to scroll through a massive sea of comments. "This post hit fifteen thousand likes while you were snoring. You two are trending harder than final exams."

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, a heavy knot formed in my stomach. "Someone took that from the bleachers. We were just goofing around after practice."

"Goofing around?" Elena snorted, crossing her arms over her black band t-shirt. "Girl, he is looking at you like you are the main course at a Thanksgiving dinner. You guys are serving pure soulmate energy. The timeline is calling you the supreme WAG."

"Stop using internet slang to ruin my morning." Throwing the warm blankets off, my bare feet hit the cold floor. "This is just part of the PR strategy. He needs to look good for the scouts. I need my mom's hospital bills paid. End of story."

Elena rolled her eyes, turning toward her messy closet. "Keep acting delulu, Maya. But cameras do not lie. That boy is hooked."

Her words echoed in my skull for the next hour. Changing into a comfortable grey Nike hoodie and loose sweatpants, my mind raced. The boundaries of this fake relationship kept blurring. His gentle touch at the hospital still haunted my thoughts. Now, our private hockey lesson was broadcast to the entire university. Maintaining a cold, distant heart felt like climbing a grease-covered wall.

Stepping out into the crisp morning air, golden sunlight washed over the busy campus quad.

Davies stood waiting near the library steps. He wore dark denim jeans and a fitted black bomber jacket. His hands rested deep in his pockets. The moment his dark eyes found my approaching figure, a slow, breathtaking smile altered his entire face.

My chest tightened. Ignoring the sudden flutter near my ribs required intense focus.

"Morning, superstar," Davies greeted, stepping into my personal space.

"Do not call me that." A weak scowl failed to hide my rising nerves. "Did you see the blogs today?"

"Hard to miss." He pulled his right hand from his pocket and held it out. "We are the hottest topic in town. Everyone wants a piece of the new power couple. Ready to give them a show?"

Staring at his massive palm, hesitation rooted my boots to the concrete. Taking his hand meant crossing into the danger zone again. But dozens of students were already watching us. Whispers drifted through the cold autumn breeze.

Taking a deep breath, my fingers slipped into his grasp.

His large hand engulfed mine. Warm, rough skin pressed against my knuckles. He intertwined our fingers, locking us together with a firm, protective grip. Tugging me closer, our shoulders bumped.

We walked across the quad in perfect sync.

Cell phone cameras flashed from the corners of my vision. Groups of girls stopped chatting, their eyes darting toward our locked hands. A few frat guys gave Davies a nod of respect. It felt like walking down a red carpet. He handled the attention with effortless grace, keeping his head high.

Every time my anxiety spiked, his thumb would stroke the soft skin on the back of my hand. That tiny, repetitive motion sent sparks of electricity straight up my arm.

Approaching the student union building, a familiar face blocked our path.

Chloe held her brand new iPhone attached to a sleek stabilizing gimbal. A pink microphone rested in her other hand. She bounced on the heels of her white sneakers, radiating chaotic media energy.

"Hold up, Wartburg!" Chloe chirped into her camera, then shoved the microphone toward our faces. "We have the king and queen of the ice right here! Davies, Maya, do you have two minutes for Wartburg Gossip Live?"

Stopping in our tracks, my instinct told me to run.

Davies did the exact opposite.

Releasing my hand, his thick arm wrapped around my waist. He pulled me flush against his solid side. There was zero space left between our bodies. The heat radiating from his chest seeped right through my Nike hoodie. His fingers dug slightly into my hip, claiming me in front of hundreds of live viewers.

"We always have time for you, Chloe," Davies answered. His voice sounded smooth like dark honey.

"The timeline is going crazy over those rink photos," Chloe beamed, aiming the lens at our faces. "Fans want to know. How did this happen? Did the fierce rival captain just swoop in and steal the girl, or was this a slow burn?"

My throat closed up. Speaking felt impossible.

Davies handled the pressure without missing a single beat. "Nothing was stolen. Maya just realized her worth. She spent too much time standing in the shadows. Now she gets to shine in the spotlight where she belongs."

"Wow," Chloe gasped, fanning her face with her free hand. "Main character dialogue! Maya, how does it feel having the most feared guy on the ice treating you like absolute royalty?"

Swallowing hard, my brain scrambled for a safe answer. "It feels... different. He is very protective."

"Protective is an understatement," Davies chuckled. His hand slid higher up my waist, his thumb drawing slow circles against my ribs. The caress sent a scorching wave of heat straight down to my core. "She deserves the best. I plan on giving it to her. Period."

"You guys are going to break the internet again!" Chloe squealed. "Any words for Nathan ahead of the Winter Invitational this Friday?"

Davies stared dead into the camera lens. His smile vanished. A cold, ruthless edge hardened his jawline. "Bring ice. You are going to need it."

"Iconic!" Chloe cheered, stepping back to let us pass. "Thanks for the interview, you two!"

Walking away from the impromptu ambush, my legs felt like jelly. His hand remained anchored to my waist. He guided me through the glass doors of the union building like I was a fragile piece of glass.

That feeling started bubbling up again. The terrifying, warm, fuzzy emotion I fought so hard to bury deep inside my chest. Hearing him speak about me with such fierce conviction made my heart race. He sounded genuine. He held me like he never wanted to let go.