The Fake Hockey Deal With My Ice Captain

Chapter Three: No Way

AURELIA'S POV

I woke up to the kind of headache that felt personal.

It throbbed behind my eyes like One Direction had decided to stage a concert inside my skull and forgotten to leave.

I blinked, trying to figure out where the hell I was.

Lucy was sprawled on the other side of the bed, face smashed into a pillow, one arm dangling off the edge like a discarded doll.

How the hell did I even get here?

I pushed myself up on my elbows and the world tilted. I sat all the way up, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes until little starbursts appeared.

Memories started leaking back in pieces. Mason’s face when the motel door opened. The f**k room. A mouth on my neck. And then—

My eyes snapped open.

Zayden Fisher.

I had slapped the untouchable captain of the hockey team in front of half the campus.

I had called him and every other hockey bastard the same filthy names while phones recorded everything. The memory hit so hard I actually groaned out loud.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand.

My vision swam. The floor rushed up to meet me and I landed hard on my knees, palms flat against the floor. Another memory flashed, the woman’s calm voice telling me the interest on my loan had doubled.

“I’m so screwed,” I whispered.

I stayed on the floor, forehead pressed to the wall, and started hitting it. Softly at first, then harder like if I could just knock the memories out of my head everything might go back to the way it was before last night.

A hand closed around my wrist mid-swing. “What the hell is going on with you?” Lucy drawled still sleepy. She looked like she had crawled out of a horror movie, mascara smudged under both eyes, hair sticking up in every direction, last night’s glitter still clinging to her collarbones. “Why are you hitting your head like that?”

“A lot,” I managed. “A lot is going on with—”

My stomach lurched violently. I scrambled up and bolted for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before everything came up in a burning, bitter rush.

I stayed there on my knees until the heaving stopped, then rinsed my mouth with shaky hands and looked up.

Lucy was in the doorway, eyes wide.

“I think I f****d up,” I said.

“How?”

I told her everything, including the way the entire room had gone quiet for half a second before the recording started.

Nobody talked to Zayden Fisher like that. Nobody. He was the golden boy, the captain, the one who got away with everything because he was talented and rich and built like he had been carved out of gold.

Lucy tried to wave it off at first. “Come on, it can’t be that big of a deal, you were drunk. People say stupid s**t when they’re drunk.”

“Righttt…” I said, almost believing her.

She went quiet, staring at her phone and the color drained from her face.

“Actually,” she said slowly, turning the screen toward me, “it might actually be a big deal.”

It was a slightly blurry photo taken of me from behind as I left the party.

We’re offering $10,000 for any information concerning this b***h.

Signed — zayden.f

My stomach dropped straight through the floor.

“Oh, I’m so f****d,” I whispered.

“No you're not.” Lucy shook her head hard. “At least not yet. Look, what we do is we go get breakfast and then we deal with this later. Okay?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

She was already pulling me up by both hands. “I don’t care, you’re coming. Food first and panic second.”

I let her drag me out of the apartment because fighting felt like too much effort.

We walked the two blocks to the little corner store that sold overpriced coffee and mediocre sandwiches. I kept my head down the entire way, half-expecting someone to recognize the back of my head and start pointing.

My eyes widened the moment I stepped inside.

Iris was sitting at a small table near the window with two of her usual satellites, long legs crossed, phone in one hand.

On the other hand she was slowly rolling a set of car keys around her fingers. The exact key that belonged to the black Mercedes I had starved and borrowed and sold my dignity to buy.

Lucy’s hand clamped around my wrist. “Aurelia. Don’t.”

It was already too late. Every furious, humiliating, heartbroken thing that had been boiling under my skin since the motel door opened erupted at once.

I was moving before I could stop myself, crossing the store in six long strides until I was standing over their table.

“Hello, lying bitch.”

Iris looked up slowly. Her gaze dragged from my shoes to my face with pure disgust. One of her friends already had a phone out, recording.

“Do your friends know you’re a liar who claims to be a lesbian while f*****g d**k behind their backs?” My voice came out louder than I intended. Several people near the coffee counter turned to stare.

Iris smiled. She stood up, closing the small distance between us until we were face to face. She was taller than me in her heels, and she used every inch of it.

“Oh, dear,” she said softly. “Look at you. Being so pathetic just because of a dick.”

“I don’t give a f**k about the d**k,” I snapped. “I just want my car back.”

She lifted the keys and dangled them right in front of my face, the metal flashing under the fluorescent lights. “Oh, you mean this car?”

“I bought that.”

“You can’t exactly take a gift back.” She glanced over her shoulder at her friends. “Right, girls?”

“Damn right.”

“Damn straight.”

Iris took another step closer, the air between us felt charged, like the second before a storm breaks.

I swallowed hard and she noticed.

“I’ve got a deal for you, though,” she said, voice almost gentle. “If you win, I’ll return your car.”

My pulse jumped, eyebrows raising softly. “What’s the deal?”

“Let’s make a bet.” She tilted her head, studying me like I was something interesting stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “I have a party in three days. Come as my brother’s date and I’ll consider the car yours again. You fail to bring him… and you have s*x with anyone I choose. Right there in front of everyone.”

The store suddenly felt too quiet. I could hear the soft whir of the refrigerator cases. I could feel Lucy’s horrified stare burning into the side of my face.

It was just a guy. How hard could it be to get some guy to take me to a party?

I smirked even though my heart was slamming against my ribs. “That’s easy. Better clean up my car, because I’m going to win your little bet and take it back.”

I turned on my heel and walked out before she could say another word. Lucy scrambled after me, catching up the second we hit the sidewalk.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded. “You don’t even know who her brother is!”

“It can’t be that hard,” I said, already pulling out my phone. My hands were shaking. “Let’s find out.”

I opened i********: and went straight to Iris’s profile.

I scrolled past party photos, mirror selfies, and carefully curated shots of her with the same two friends from the store.

Then I found it.

A picture posted a few weeks ago. Iris leaning against a tall guy with dark hair and the kind of jawline that looked heavingly.

Chilling with my brother.

My stomach dropped so hard I actually stopped walking.

The face staring back at me from the screen was unmistakable. Handsome, confident and arrogant in a way that made something in my chest twist.

Zayden Fisher.

The captain I had publicly humiliated less than twelve hours ago. The same man who had just put a ten-thousand-dollar bounty on the back of my head.

Lucy leaned over my shoulder, saw the photo, and whispered, “Oh, shit.”

I locked the phone and stared at the cracked sidewalk under my feet.

I had three days to somehow convince the one person on campus who probably hated me more than anyone else to take me to his sister’s party as his date.

Or I would lose the car for good.

And whatever else Iris decided to take from me in front of everyone.