Weak Side : A Fake Dating Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

My back rested against the wall with my leg hooked over my right ankle, waiting for Claire. I shoved my phone in my pocket and nodded at a few guys who had walked out of the lecture hall, telling me that Claire’s class had ended. A group of chatty girls slipped out next, and each of their steps stuttered when they saw me standing there. Their conversation ceased, but I didn’t dare look at a single one in the face. I was waiting for an adorable brunette who I couldn’t get off my mind.

I kept my gaze settled on the doorway, purposefully above their high ponytails and messy buns, and when I landed on Claire, organizing her papers in her folder, unknowing that most of Bexley U was watching her every move, I stepped beside her, and we began walking in unison.

“Where are you off to?”

Claire’s head popped up so quickly some of her hair fell out of her scrunchie. “Theo!” she gasped, slapping her folder shut. “What are you doing here?”

“Walking with you,” I answered, intentionally keeping my eyes off her mouth. This morning was the center of my thoughts even with several hours and a clear head in between. “Are you done for the day?”

I knew the answer was yes because whether we wanted to admit it or not, we knew each other’s schedules.

“Um, yeah—well, with classes.” Claire pulled her bag higher on her shoulder after shoving her book inside, glancing around nervously at everyone watching us walk together. I smirked before putting an arm over her shoulder and pulling her in close.

“And no work tonight.” I turned my head and made it look like I was whispering in her ear. If she were to ask why I was being so touchy-feely with her, I’d chalk it up to putting on a show in front of campus because, after all, we were dating. But the truth was, I just wanted to touch her.

“Right. I’m off tonight…” Claire’s steps slowed just before we made it to the doors, and at the very last second, I turned us both and headed down the opposite hallway. “What are you doing?” she asked, halting her steps.

“You’ll see.”

Surprisingly, Claire continued with me down the hallway without putting up much of a fight. There was a hint of confusion that surrounded the air around us, but I kept my arm around her shoulders as we headed to the rink.

Right before I pushed her through the back door to the arena—thankful it was so close to her lecture hall, considering the way she was keeping the pressure off her right ankle—she peeked over at me. “What are we doing here?”

I sighed heavily as the heat whooshed out of the darkened hallway. When the door slammed behind us, I gave her a look that made her cheeks deepen with the color pink. “How long were you going to hide that injury from me?”

My arms crossed over my chest as I waited for her answer. Claire nervously pulled down the beanie over her head and looked down at her boots. Instead of denying it, like I assumed she would, she slowly raised her chin and locked onto me. There was the smallest crack in her strong-girl façade, and I watched the mask slip just enough to make me feel worthy that she was trusting me. “How did you know?”

“Because I pay attention,” I answered truthfully, but what I didn’t allude to was the fact that I only paid attention to her.

Claire was surprised by my answer, and I smirked, knowing she was satisfied with it. Without giving any warning, I rushed over to her and swooped her up in my arms, cradling her legs under one of them. Our faces were close, so close I could smell the vanilla latte on her breath when she opened her mouth and barked out a loud laugh.

“Oh my God, Theo. Put me down!”

“No.”

We were in the locker room entirely too soon, and I was forced to plop her on the bench, hating that I had to take a step away from her so that Zedd, our personal trainer, could look at her ankle. A raging jealousy simmered as I watched Zedd’s fingers gently press on Claire’s ankle, which was beyond shocking. I quickly tore my eyes from his grip on her leg and silently slapped myself for the hit on my character.

“Well, I don’t think it’s sprained.” Zedd turned over Claire’s slightly swollen ankle and turned it toward him with a creased brow. The locker room was quiet, and although our evening training sessions were starting soon, I knew no one would be here yet.

I was the only one who showed up early.

“I didn’t think so. I was leaning toward a strain?” Claire sucked her plump bottom lip into her mouth and peered up at Zedd with soft eyes. She looked so small and innocent as she sat on the bench smack dab in the middle of the locker room, waiting for Zedd to tell her what to do for her injury.

Zedd and I had a close, working relationship that was more like a friendship than anything. We’d been together since my freshman year, and he’d seen the way I’d built this team and had molded my teammates to persevere throughout rough games and even rougher injuries. I knew he’d be willing to meet me this afternoon, and although I left out the part that it was for Claire instead of me, he didn’t even bat an eye.

“That’s likely. You need to cool it on the…” He looked down at Claire, placing her foot back onto the cushioned bench. “What is it that you do?”

“Dance,” I answered for her. “She’s a dancer.”

“They don’t have their own athletic trainer?” he asked, clearly perturbed by that thought.

A soft laugh pulled my attention to Claire’s mouth again—something I couldn’t stop looking at. “I’m not part of the dance team. I’m in performing arts. We’re considered a part of the athletics program but the lowest on the totem pole.”

Zedd ran a feeble hand down his face, scratching at his short beard. “That’s a shame.” He sighed as Claire swung her legs down to the ground. “You need to stay off it for a little while to let it heal. Actually, you should head over to the ice tub. Then continue to ice and rest.”

“Stay off of it?” Claire nearly came off the bench. “For how long?”

“At least a week.”

Claire’s mouth opened with protest, but Zedd put his hand up to stop her while looking over at me. “Tell her what I tell you.”

I half-laughed, glancing at Claire who was all but pouting, but respectfully so. “You’ll cause more problems if you don’t listen to him.”

“I can’t take a week off.”

Zedd snickered as he backed out of the locker room, throwing an ACE bandage at me. “Sounds like someone else I know. Bye, Claire.”

Her attention was pulled to him, and she rushed her words out. “Thank you! I appreciate you taking a look.”

His eyes slid to me. “No problem.”

The moment he was gone, I turned around and bent down to get on Claire’s level. “Hop on, roomie,” I said over my shoulder.

“Theo. I can walk.” Claire laughed softly, pushing at my shoulder. The touch of her palm did things to me that I wouldn’t admit aloud because I knew it was our antics clouding my head from earlier.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

And I couldn’t stop staring at her last night when she fell asleep beside me on my bed. I thought about just putting her in her own, but instead, I just lay there, looking up at the ceiling, wondering how I had gotten there.

The truth was, I liked her. I liked being around her. I liked watching her from afar. I liked that she was just as driven as me, and determined, and focused. I liked making her laugh, and I liked lying in my bed with her, watching Supernatural. I just liked being with her.

I knew I needed to clear my head and get back to the reality of the situation, but instead of doing that, I was finding reasons to make her laugh and, even worse, finding reasons to touch her.

“Hop on, Bryant. Or I’ll put you over my shoulder.”

She sniggered under her breath as she stood up to walk, and the sound of her sarcastic laugh fueled me like no other. She thinks I’m kidding? I smirked, and she only took one step before I hauled her up over my shoulder and began walking toward the training room.

“Theo!” she squealed, banging her fists on my back. My arm around the back of her thighs tightened, and she wiggled, nearly pushing her ass into my face.

I shoved the ACE bandage in my pocket and turned my head to the left so she could hear my words clearly. “Keep it up and I’ll spank you, Bryant.”

The humor was there, but barely. It was meant to be a joke, but my hand tingled with the thought of touching that peach of an ass that she had. Fuck, get it together. 

“You would not,” she whispered, letting her arms drop down my back in defeat as I entered the training room. The only light was the glow from the ice bath in the center of the floor, and I stalked toward it with an even deeper smirk planted on my face.

“I would,” I bit back. “Wanna test me?”

There was a pause on her end, and I stopped breathing for a moment. Does she like the thought of that? Because I sure do. 

“No.”

I chuckled as I slid her down the front of my body, hooking my hand underneath her knee so she didn’t put pressure on her foot. Her hands landed on my chest, and I was certain she could feel the racing of my heart, which was a quick reminder that my little roommate-slash-fake–girlfriend was completely embedding herself into my life, whether it was all a ruse or not.

“Was I that heavy?” She frowned, taking my hand from behind her leg. “Your heart is flying. And here I thought hockey players had good stamina.”

“You’re not heavy. That’s not why my heart is flying, Claire.” Don’t say it, Theo. Don’t say it. Do no— “And I have excellent stamina.” I paused, trying to make the next part of my sentence sound like I was joking, but deep down, I wasn’t. “Want me to show you?”

The look of surprise was followed by her reddened cheeks, and it was obvious she knew that I wasn’t joking. She looked down at the ice bath, refusing to meet my eye. “That’s not a good idea. Earlier was…” Great. 

Neither one of us finished her sentence because she was right. It wasn’t a good idea. I knew that last night, as I stared down at her lying in my arms while she wore my jersey. There was something about her having my last name on her back that made me wonder if my world could revolve around something other than hockey…like her.

“Get in.” My demand was a little harsh, and although I wasn’t going to dig into my internal feelings any longer, I knew why I was agitated all of a sudden, and it wasn’t her fault. It was mine.

“All the way?” Claire put some space between us and walked closer to the ice bath. She dipped her toe inside before quickly pulling it back. “No!”

I rolled my eyes. “Just your foot, then. It’s good for inflammation and will improve recovery.”

She hesitated but finally sat down on the floor and put her foot in the ice water, hissing between her perfectly straight teeth. A chill raked through her body, so I ran into the locker room and grabbed my extra hoodie that was in my locker and jogged back to drape it over her shoulders, but when I got back into the training room, I nearly tripped.

“What are you doing?” I asked, drowning in confusion. All I could see was the top of Claire’s shoulders and the thin straps of her bra resting along pale skin and her hollow cheeks from the intense chill of ice surrounding her.

Her teeth were chattering when she answered me, so I grew closer to hear her better. “My whole body hurts. I–I–I’ve been pr-practicing a lot. Maybe I-I-I”—she blew out a shaky breath—“won’t be so sore after.”

“Jesus,” I mumbled. I slowly sank down and sat beside her, putting my knees up so I could rest my forearms over them. “You really are just as driven as I am, Bryant.” I shook out my messy brown hair.

“I take–take that as-s a compliment.” I caught her cheeky smile, and we sat in silence for the rest of the ten minutes that I allowed her to stay in the ice bath. The second the timer went off, I quickly reached in, grabbed her biceps, and pulled her to her feet in one single motion.

I scanned her wet body and did a triple-take at the way my world stopped spinning for a second. She wore nothing but a simple black bra and those damn panties that showed entirely too much. Water droplets raced down in between her cleavage, and I was confident in saying that it was the first time I’d ever been jealous of a small bead of liquid.

I pulled the hoodie down over her body to dry her off, and the laugh that bubbled out of her mouth confused me. Nothing was funny to me because I was about to lose my mind.

“Is it weird that…I feel good?” She looked over at the ice bath in amazement and then back to me with wide eyes full of mirth and high spirits.

I forced a smile onto my face. “No, it’s supposed to do that. Why do you think we do it?”

She laughed again, still shivering as she stood in front of me. “I’ve never really analyzed the way jocks’ brains work—especially not someone like Ford.”

I threw my head back for a second and let out a loud laugh. “Come on, let’s get you warmed up before you head back to the dorms. My practice starts soon, and you can’t be here.” I gathered her clothes in my hand and shot her a look so she wouldn’t protest as I held out my arms. She quickly jumped into them and wrapped her wet legs around my waist before burying her head into the crook of my neck. Her warm breath coated the side of my neck, and my grip on her wet legs grew harder as I tried to pull myself back to reality—again.

“Flip the light on,” I said as we walked into the showers. I placed her on the bench and walked over to them, turning the one in the far back on while keeping my eye on the time. “You get five minutes in lukewarm water. Then, we gotta get you back to the dorms before Coach finds you here.”

“Am I not allowed to be here?” she asked, standing up on shaky legs. She pulled my hoodie over her head, and I averted my gaze to the lockers behind her. I’d bite my fist if she wasn’t staring at me. I’d do anything to keep myself from thinking the thoughts I was currently having.

“No,” I answered. “I’m breaking all my rules for you, Bryant.”

I spun around and walked out of the showers so I didn’t do what I wanted to do this morning, which was to slip into a fantasy world that smelled of her shampoo and was full of inappropriate thoughts of the girl who was my fake girlfriend.

Before I walked out of the showers, I spun around. “Hey, don’t change the temp—”

Fuck. Me. 

Her bare back was to me, but her hands paused on the brim of her panties as they were halfway down her hips. I dropped my gaze to the bra that was on the ground next to her feet, and this time, I actually did bite my fist.

 The arch of her cheekbone came into sight as she peeked over her shoulder at me, and when our eyes met, I had to physically take a step back and remind myself that I couldn’t storm over to her and fuck her like I wanted to.

She’s my roommate. She’s my fake girlfriend. She’s my roommate. She’s my fake girlfriend. 

I pulled open the door and shut out the sound of the shower as I slammed my back against the wall and bent over at the waist, breathing in and out of my nose until I put the restraints back on. “What the fuck,” I mumbled, looking up at the ceiling. “She’s not really yours, bro.”

I almost texted Aasher to come down to the locker room to be a barrier between Claire and me. Not that I wouldn’t walk away if she said no, but I had a big feeling that she was struggling just as much as I was, because when our eyes caught, just a moment ago, I swore the air had crackled around us.

Crossing the line was a bad idea. I agreed with her.

But with bad ideas came new opportunities.