Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player novel Chapter 75

Chapter 75

EMILIA

Liam has been gone longer than I expected.

I frown. Didn’t he just go to get the door? It shouldn’t take this long.

I try not to let my mind spiral, but it’s hard when everything seems to be crashing down

around me.

First, Stone and all the memories he dragged back into my life. Now, this–my family’s name, plastered across the internet like a headline in some twisted fairy tale.

I force myself to move. I slip into the bathroom, letting the hot water run over me, washing away the weight in my chest. I focus on breathing, on standing still, on the small victory of not collapsing under the pressure of everything that’s gone wrong.

I try not to think about the last time I spoke to my family.

My mother’s voice, sharp and unrelenting. My father’s heavy silence, his disappointment louder than any words he could have said. My younger sister’s glare, filled with a resentment I fully understand.

I shut my eyes. Think of the good things, Em. Don’t drown in everything that’s happened.

By the time I step out of the bathroom, I feel lighter–not fixed, but at least functioning. I wrap a towel around my hair, pull on my swimsuit and throw on a simple sundress over it.

Lacey told me today was pool day last night. It won’t do well to miss it. Plus, Liam and I need to be seen together more. It’ll make selling our relationship way easier.

When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I hesitate. My curls are still damp, still wild, I leave them down. They’ll shrink anyway.

‘ll sprink

I sit on the bed and wait for/Liam.

Five minutes pass. Then ten.

Why is it so quiet?

Just as I start to get up, I hear it–muffled voices outside the door.

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radiating pure disgust.

But the second his blue eyes meet mine, everything shifts. His scowl disappears, replaced by that lazy, dimpled smile that does dangerous things to my pulse.

“What are you doing, love?” His voice is soft, intimate, like we’re the only two people here. Like Zane isn’t standing a few feet away, watching our every move. “Shouldn’t you be inside

resting?”

Before I can respond, he’s already closing the distance between us. His hand finds my arm, warm and firm, fingers brushing over my skin with the kind of ease that makes my breath

hitch.

Goosebumps break out instantly.

I know he feels it. The way my body reacts to him, the way the air between us tightens, but he pretends like he doesn’t. Like he doesn’t notice the way my lips part slightly, the way my grip on his phone falters.

“Your phone was ringing,” I manage, holding it up like it’s some kind of shield. But my voice comes out softer than I intended, and when I glance down at the screen, my frown deepens.