Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player novel Chapter 204

Chapter 204

EMILIA

I’m upset about so many things, I don’t even know where to start.

One: Tessa should be here. But then again, I did hijack her ride when I bolted straight to Liam’s, so I don’t exactly get to whine.

Two: I opened Liam’s gallery and discovered he’s somehow managed to take over fifty photos of us – mostly me and I had zero clue.

Three: I only went snooping in the first place because of that article. Everyone was actually saying nice things about us for once, which made me so stupidly happy I didn’t even clock the photo attached until later – Liam, caught in the act, sneakily taking a picture of me mid- rant about leafy greens.

And four, the kicker: I can’t even sulk properly about any of it, because I’m too nervous to even breathe straight. My stomach feels like it’s preparing for Olympic–level gymnastics.

Liam throws me a sideway glance when we pull up. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Relax,” Liam murmurs, steering me up the path like I’m a stray dog that might bolt. “It’s just a barbecue.”

“Right,” I say, “Just a barbecue. Just me meeting a houseful of men who know you better than anyone, who also happen to be elite athletes with functioning social skills, and who will definitely clock that I’m sweating like a criminal.”

“You’re not sweating.”

I swipe at my forehead. “Then what’s this? Free hydration?”

—

He hull’s a laugh, clearly amused at my meltdown, which rude. “They’re going to love you. Half of them already stalk your bakery anyway.”

“Okay, first of all, don’t say ‘stalk‘ when I’m about to meet them. Second, what if they don’t like me? What if they hate me? What if they’re all secretly Team Raisins?” Just the thought of those shriveled wannabe grapes makes me shudder.

Liam stops, deadpan. “There is no Team Raisins.”

“Wow. You say that with the same confidence Apple uses to sell forty- dollar chargers.”

Liam cracks a smile at that, and it makes me feel better for about three seconds, until the front door swings open and the sound of male laughter pours out like an alarm bell.

“Oh God,” I mutter. “It’s happening. I’m about to be judged by an entire hockey team.”

—

Technically, I’ve met a handful of his teammates – mostly the ones who wandered into the bakery for sugar fixes – but never all at once. And sure, I’ve watched enough of Liam’s games to recognize the back of his head anywhere, but that’s about it. Cam, the goalie, is the only one I can spot without needing commentary. Everyone else? Mystery meat in pads.

The guy who opens the door proves my point. No clue who he is. He grins at Liam, does one of those bro–handshakes that looks like an interpretive dance, and then before I can blink – hauls me into a hug that could snap a rib. While I’m still suffocating, he calls back into the house, “Banks, the Calloways are here!”

The Calloways?

I try to glare at Liam, but it’s wasted – I’m too busy being flattened against a stranger’s very solid chest.

“Did you bring cookies?” he asks, like we’re lifelong friends, and has the nerve to reach for the bag in Liam’s hand. He actually pouts when he finds the bottle of wine we picked up on the way. “Really? I would‘ ve preferred cookies. Or those muffins you made at the start of the season — God, those were good.”

I blink up at him – because of course he’s a skyscraper, maybe half a foot taller than Liam. Not bad looking either: blue eyes, dirty blond hair, annoyingly boy–next–door and a hint of an accent. But even with the height advantage, he pales next to Liam now that they’re shoulder to shoulder. “Are you the one hosting this barbecue?”

He has the audacity to shake his head. “Not really?”

What does ‘not really‘ even mean? “So I guess the wine isn’t for you, anyway.”

“Banks,” he groans, turning on the dramatics. “Emilia’s bullying me.”

And right on cue, Banks makes his entrance. He comes down from the porch, practically peels his teammate off me, and pulls me into a hug I return with relief. I know this one: Owen Banks. He’s the guy who once brought his wife into the bakery and she half–tried to recruit me into WAG life. Back then Liam and I weren’t even dating, so the offer felt more salt than sweet. Now, though? Now it feels like something I should take seriously- who better to lean on than the people who already know what this circus is like?

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