FAKE DATING MY EX'S TEAMMATE

Chapter Nine

Maya's POV

I couldn't sleep at night. I am anxious about how bad things could get if Ray happens to know where i live.It felt like i was standing guard for Leo, while he slept.

It wasn't a nice experience. My eyelids feel very heavy, and i find myself dozing off every minute. I suddenly wished for Leo to grow up quickly. If he was bigger, we would have taken turns.

The stress is on another level.

I finally fall face down on my bed by 1 PM.

That is when i felt less threatened. And exhaustion has won me over.

I shouldn't be going to bed by this time. I'll wake up disoriented in the morning.

And I have to show up early at practice at the agency tomorrow.

The practice rink smells like ice and sweat and too many bodies crammed into one space.

I walk in slowly, gripping my clipboard like it's the only thing keeping me upright. Reporters line the walls, cameras already raised. Of course they're here. They're always here now.

The practice session today could get messy if I'm not careful. My eyes find Jax first. He's on the ice, stick in hand, grinning at something one of his teammates said. Then he spots me. The grin widens. He raises his stick in a mock salute.

Why won't he just leave me alone?

He doesn't know he's making everything worse. Or maybe he does and just doesn't care.

I look down at my clipboard. Statistics. Shot percentages. Penalty minutes. None of it matters, but I stare at it anyway. I have to pretend I'm working. Pretend I have a reason to be here.

A cramp twists low in my abdomen. I press my hand against my stomach and breathe through it.

Not now. Please, not now.

When I look up, Finn's on the ice.

He's executing a drill. He makes sharp turns, quick stops, perfect shots. The puck slams into the net over and over, each hit precise and controlled.

And he keeps glancing over at me.

Not obvious. Not overt. But I catch it every time. His eyes flick toward where I'm standing, just for a second, before he refocuses on the drill.

What is he doing?

It feels like he's trying to prove something. Like every shot, every move, is a statement.

I'm better than Jax.

I'm still here.

Look at me.

Or maybe my brain is just making things up. Maybe I'm reading into nothing because I'm exhausted and cramping and trying not to think about Ray's face in the grocery store.

Jax skates past me. He slows, glides backward so he's facing me, and winks.

"What's up, PR Girl?"

I nod but don't answer. My attention is still on Finn.

Jax notices. Of course he does.

He pushes off and skates over to Finn, cutting him off mid-drill.

"What's going on, man?"

Finn doesn't stop moving. He circles around Jax, stick tapping the ice. "What are you talking about?"

"You gonna stop staring at my girlfriend?"

Finn's jaw tightens. "I wasn't staring."

"Yeah, you were." Jax follows him, matching his pace. "Don't think I didn't see you. It's creeping her out. You look like you're going to eat her”

"I said I wasn't staring." Finn's voice is flat and cold. "What's it with you? Get lost."

Jax grins. "I knew I caught you. Having eyes for another guy's girl. You, of all people."

The coach's whistle cuts through the air, sharp and shrill.

"Mercer! Callahan! Save the drama for the locker room!"

Jax smirks and skates away. Finn stays where he is for a moment, shoulders rigid, before rejoining the drill.

The rest of practice drags on forever.

Every drill feels like a competition. Jax showing off for the cameras. Finn pushing harder than necessary, like he's trying to prove something to everyone in the room.

I stay glued to my spot by the boards, clutching my clipboard, counting down the minutes until I can leave.

When the final whistle blows, I don't wait. I grab my bag and head for the exit as fast as I can without running. I won't want jax to come up to me and start with his usual ridiculous nonsense.

Just get to the car. Just get out of here.

I'm almost at the door when a hand closes around my arm.

I spin around,I feel my heart in my throat.

Finn.

"What are you…"

"We need to talk."

His grip isn't rough, but it's firm. He's not letting go.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I try to pull my arm free. He doesn't budge.

"I don't care what you think."

His voice is low, controlled. But there's something underneath it. Something I can't quite name.

"Finn, let go."

"Not until you listen."

I glance around. A few reporters are still lingering near the rink, packing up equipment. If they see this. I* they get a photo… It will go viral and i will be in big trouble.

"Someone will see," I hiss.

"Let them see if they want to."

"Are you insane?"

"Maybe." He steps closer. Close enough that I can smell the faint traces of his cologne beneath the sweat. "But we're talking. Now."

"We’re talking Here?"

"No." He releases my arm and jerks his head toward a side hallway. "Over there."

I hesitate. Every instinct tells me this is a bad idea. But the look on his face…

He's not going to let this go.

I follow him.

The hallway is narrow and dimly lit. Storage closets line one side. The sound of the practice rink fades behind us.

Finn stops halfway down and turns to face me.

"What were you thinking?" he says.

"What?"

"At the rink. With Jax. What were you thinking?"

I stare at him. "I was doing my job."

"Your job." He laughs, but there's

no humor in it. "Right. Your job is to parade around with Jax like you're his…"

"His what?" My voice rises. "Say it."

He doesn't.