All Chapters of Faking it with the NHL’S Golden Boy: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

***THE D-DAY***Flora’s POVThe cool bathroom tile sent a chill up my bare legs as I stood in front of the mirror, carefully adjusting the knot of the bath towel wrapped around my chest.Today was D-day. The showdown between the Hershey Bears and the Hawkins. For the first time, I would sit in the stands as Tyler Sinclair’s fake girlfriend, and cheering openly for the man who had risked his life two days ago to keep me alive.I turned away from my reflection and took two steps toward the bed. The edge of my right foot clipped the wooden frame of the nightstand. A sharp sting flared straight up my leg, yanking me violently back into the nightmare from two days ago.The jagged glass slicing into my flesh. The deafening gunshot. My knees weakened.I collapsed onto the mattress, staring up at the blank white ceiling as the final terrifying moments inside that abandoned house replayed behind my eyelids. Minutes after that last gunshot, he had finally emerged from the shadows of the por

***YOU TWO CAN GO STRAIGHT TO HELL***Tyler’s POV“What the fuck do you mean by that?” I demanded, my voice slicing through the fading echoes of the arena.Justin let out another loud laugh and pushed his heavy frame up from the ice. The stadium seats were emptying fast. Three state police officers stood waiting behind him in crisp uniforms.Justin didn’t run. He turned his head slowly, flashing them a twisted, unbothered smirk.Behind the glass, whispers erupted among the remaining Hawkins and Hershey players.“What the hell is going on?” One of my teammates muttered, skating closer. “What did Graham do?”Reporters swarmed the perimeter, cameras swinging toward us. The lead officer stepped forward, the click of handcuffs cutting through the rink as he secured Justin’s wrists behind his back.“Justin Graham, you are under arrest for the murder of Miss Candice Prudent three years ago and the attempted murder of Miss Flora Morgan,” the officer recited flatly. “You have the right to rema

***THINGS WE NEVER SAY***Flora’s POVTyler took a step toward me and the music faded into the background.I noticed the sharp glint of the small diamond studs in his ears. His eyes looked heavy and slightly sleep-hooded.He cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to his shoes before rising back to my face. He looked entirely out of his element.“Hey,” he murmured. He shifted his weight, his hands sliding into his joggers. “Look... about what happened at the arena earlier...”He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that,” he started again, the words coming out rough. “You were just trying to look out for the guys.”He stopped there, eyes searching my face. I kept my expression perfectly neutral, one eyebrow slightly raised.He’s actually apologizing?It was infuriatingly attractive, watching him stand there without his usual armor.He shifted on his feet once more, clearly uncomfortable.“I’m sorry, Flora,” he added quietly.I held firm, le

***SURPISE VISIT***Sean’s POV“Yo, bro! Tell me you remember that dark-haired puck bunny from the club last weekend,” the voice exploded through the phone speaker, entirely too loud for nine in the morning.I grabbed the device, violently jamming the button to take it off loudspeaker before pressing it flat against my ear. My eyes flicked toward the room door. “Keep your fucking voice down. I’m at Megan’s place.”“Oh, shit,” He chuckled, his tone dropping into a lazy rumble. “You two settled your fight already?”“Yeah, we’re good. Now what the hell are you yapping about?”“The girl from the club, man! The one you wanted to slide into before you completely fumbled her and vanished. I ran into her at a warehouse after-party last night. We had some incredibly hot sex, bro.”I rolled my eyes, a short, bitter scoff escaping my lips as I leaned back against the headboard. I didn't fumble her.I was less than two minutes away from taking that girl out to my car when my gaze had tracked acr

***SOMEWHERE YOU'D NEVER IMAGINE***Jeffery's Pov I floored the gas, the highway blurring past, my hands strangling the wheel. It was finally sinking in. I was losing everything. The ice, the jersey—it was the only thing that had ever made me who I was. When the world abandoned me at twelve years old, an orphaned kid with absolutely nothing to his name, every single blood relative looked the other way. They shut their doors on me. Except for one person. My elder cousin. He had gambled, scraped, and bled on the streets just so he could afford the tuition to enroll me in hockey training school.I smiled at the memory of him, and a tear slipped down my cheek. I pressed harder on the gas.I finally pulled up to the grim, concrete facade of the maximum-security precinct. After a blur of cold formalities, signing the visitor log, and handing over my belongings to a stern-faced officer, a heavy iron door buzzed open. I was led into a dim, shadow-drenched interrogation room.Sitting rig