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Rush Hour

Penulis: Ms. Anonymous
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-04-14 13:40:35

EMILIA

I miss when rush hour only happens at noon.

Ever since Liam decided my bakery was his new favourite playground, business has been nonstop. He waltzed in one day, threw on an apron, and announced he was going to learn how to bake. And just like that, rush hour became every hour.

Apparently, no one on earth can resist the sight of Liam Calloway covered in flour. And honestly? I get it.

I won’t lie — the extra attention has been great for business. I’ve made more money in the past few weeks than I have in my entire life and I’m not even exaggerating. But it also means I’m constantly on my feet, barely catching a break.

And Liam? He’s loving every second of it.

Especially since it also means I barely have a second to breathe. I’ve come to realise Liam relishes in my suffering.

Right now, the line stretches out the door, and I’m pretty sure half these people don’t even care about the pastries. They just want to snap a picture of Liam rolling dough or pretend to be interested so they
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  • Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player   No More Secrets

    EMILIAThe blood drains from my face so fast I feel dizzy.A staff member rushes over, drawn by my scream, panic already flickering in his eyes. I’m still stumbling backwards, chest heaving, my pulse thundering in my ears.“There’s a man,” I gasp, pointing toward the restroom, “in the women’s bathroom— he has a knife. A pocket knife— he— he was dressed like—”I can’t even finish the sentence.The staff member doesn’t wait. He bolts toward the bathroom, yelling something into his walkie-talkie. Everything else becomes a blur. A group of teenagers nearby are staring, wide-eyed. Someone grabs their friend’s arm and pulls them away. A siren begins to sound faintly in the distance — or maybe it’s just the ringing in my ears.And then—“Emilia!”Liam.He barrels through the crowd like a storm, eyes locked on mine — wild, frantic, like nothing else matters.The second he reaches me, his hands are on my arms, grounding me, steadying me, like he’s worried I’ll vanish if he blinks.“Emilia,” he

  • Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player   Oldie

    EMILIAWe eventually find the air hockey table — tucked between a photo booth and a flashing wall of pinball. After absolutely obliterating Liam (and celebrating like I’d just won an Olympic medal), I start to feel like myself again.We move from game to game — racing sims, whack-a-mole, that ridiculous fruit-slicing thing — and in between, we pause. We watch other people play. We laugh at a toddler trying to wrestle a ticket out of the prize dispenser. And we talk.Sometimes we don’t.Liam gets recognised more than a few times. A group of girls near the claw machine freeze mid-squeal when they spot him. A couple of guys at the racing game do double takes. He simply smiles, takes the photos, signs napkins and receipts and phone cases like it’s nothing — which, for him, maybe it is.But what gets me is that he never lets go of my hand.Not once.It doesn’t matter if someone tries to slide in beside him like I’m invisible. It doesn’t matter when I catch a whisper or two behind someone’s

  • Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player   It's A Date

    EMILIAThere’s probably something mildly concerning about how the second Liam and I start competing, I lose all sense of my surroundings.I stop noticing the crowd pressing in around us, the blaring sounds from a dozen machines, the fact that the smell of popcorn wasn’t, in fact, just a delusion born from hunger and adrenaline. A group of kids huddle by the claw machine, yelling as a stuffed bear slips from the metal pincers, and I’m hit with this weird, almost bittersweet déjà vu.“Have you ever noticed every place you take me is wildly fun?” I say, scanning the room with him in search of the air hockey table. Liam mumbles something about them having moved it since he was last here. “You’re either losing at arcade games, failing to win me stuffed animals, or crashing weddings. It’s all very moving. And, somehow, always deeply humiliating — for you.”His brow twitches. For a brief second, I wonder if this is the one jab too many and his face is about to shatter into stone chips. “Soun

  • Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player   The Delusional Seer

    EMILIAThe thing about being incredibly good at something is that no one sees it coming when you decimate them.Especially not smug, tall, completely-soft-on-the-inside boys who talk like they invented charm and arcade games.“You’ve played this before,” Liam says flatly, staring at the Dance Dance Revolution machine like it just personally betrayed him.I shrug, failing (barely) to hide my grin. “Maybe. Once. Twice. Seventeen times. Who’s counting?”He narrows his eyes. “You lured me in. You knew you were going to win.”“I warned you. You didn’t listen. That’s not on me.”“You baited me with false vulnerability.”I place a hand over my heart. “You think I’m capable of manipulation? I’m flattered.”He groans like he’s actually in pain. “You’re evil.”“I prefer morally flexible,” I say sweetly.“Same difference,” he mutters, but it sounds more like he’s trying to reassure himself than insult me. “I told you I’d let you win the first round. Don’t expect the same kindness twice.”I gasp.

  • Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player   Challenge Accepted

    EMILIAI instantly get defensive, momentarily forgetting that if this basket in the sky decides to tilt, I’ll be falling to my death. “Are you seriously trying to blame me for your mistakes?”His lips twitch. “I wouldn’t dare. Truly.” He’s trying not to laugh, but he’s failing miserably — his shoulders are shaking, and his mouth is twitching like he’s choking on a smirk.“Besides,” he adds, eyes dancing, “you’re the one who mocked me when the balloon lady asked if you were scared.”“That was before the adrenaline wore off.”He grins. “You mean when you climbed in first and said, and I quote, ‘It’s okay if you’re too scared. Not everyone’s built for conquering their fears’? That was just the adrenaline talking?”“I’ve grown since then,” I hiss. “It was a lapse in judgement. A temporary ego high.”“Well, colour me inspired. I’m so impressed I can barely speak,” he mocks, cupping my cheeks with that infuriatingly smug smile spreading wider. “Truly, the arc on you.”“Does this mean we can

  • Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player   Heights

    EMILIA“You should dress warmer. It’s getting colder.”“Okay, Mum.”Liam gives me a look that could melt a glacier. “I’m serious.”“I know, Mum.”He pulls the scarf tighter around my neck until I feel like a bundled-up potato. A slightly overpriced potato. I don’t even mind. He’s right — autumn’s creeping in, October’s coming, and Zane and Becca’s wedding is around the corner.Speaking of Becca… she’s the reason I’m currently being layered in designer clothes like a mannequin in a winter fashion ad.“Will you be taking the scarf?” the boutique attendant asks, smiling like her life depends on it.Can’t blame her. I saw the price tag before Liam threw it on me. If I were her, I’d be grinning for the rest of the year.Liam looks over at me — really looks — and there’s something soft and smug in his eyes that makes my face heat up. I glance away before I start giggling like a lunatic.“Yes,” he says. “And the boots. And jacket. And that skirt too.”There goes Tessa’s rent for the next two

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