FAKE DATING THE PLAYBOY HOCKEY CAPTAIN

RILEY I had exactly one week left before exams took over my life again, and somehow, I had let my best friend, Allison talk me into spending the last free night of it at a party I had no business being at. “You’re overthinking it,” Allison groaned as she dragged me by the wrist through the front door. “It’s one night to unwind, Riley.” “After this it’s finals, graduation, and then we get hit by real life. You want your last college memory to be the library?” “The library has been very good to me,” I muttered, though I let her keep pulling. That was the thing about Allison. She never really gave me a choice, because she knew that if she did, I’d choose the library every time. The house came into view soon enough. The porch was strung with cheap lights, and the lawn littered with red cups. Somewhere near the door, someone had taped up a hand-painted banner that read CHAMPIONS. The party was thrown to celebrate the school’s hockey team closing out the season with a trophy for the first time in three years. The music hit me before we even made it past the hallway. Bass thudding through the floor, bodies pressed together under dim purple light, glasses clinking, laughter bursting off every corner of the house. Everyone around me was dressed like they were ready to have the time of their lives – crop tops, mini skirts that showed their bums with any slight movement, bare shoulders, and plenty of exposed cleavage. And there I was, in my school uniform, blazer buttoned all the way up like I was about to recite a Bible verse. It was the only outfit I owned that my mother didn’t pick out for me. “You look fine,” Allison said, cupping my face. “You look like you.” I smiled, thankful for her for the millionth time today. “I’ll be right back,” Allison said, squeezing my hand. “Bathroom emergency. Don’t die without me.” “Very funny,” I muttered, but she was already gone, swallowed by the crowd with me left alone in a sea of people. Near the drink table, a group of girls had gathered around to gossip, with drinks still in their hands. “I would honestly lick his feet if he asked me to,” one of them said, as she fanned herself. “Did you see him out there tonight? Seemed like he was the only one on the rink. Asher Whitfield could ruin my life and I’d thank him for it.” “Right?” another one squealed. “Have you seen him during his workout rounds? I’d throw myself at him in a heartbeat.” I sighed and looked away as they gossiped on. Everyone around campus knew Asher Whitfield. He was the richest heir in our school, campus royalty, as everyone called him, and also the new captain of the hockey team. He was literally the center of at least half the fantasies whispered in girls’ bathrooms across campus. I’d never spoken to him in all my years on campus. Guys like that didn’t so much as glance in my direction, and honestly, I preferred it that way. Just then, one of the girls noticed me standing there. “Oh my God, look who it is,” she said, nudging her friend. “What is she even doing here?” The group turned toward me all at once, and I felt my face heat up instantly. “Seriously,” another added, eyeing my blazer like it was a museum exhibit. “Did your mommy drop you off for a study group?” More people drifted closer, drawn by the scene, and my stomach twisted into a knot. “Aw, don’t be mean,” the first one said. “Maybe she’s finally ready to lose the V-card tonight. You gonna graduate a virgin, Riley, or are you ready to surprise us all?” They all burst out in laughter and my face went red immediately. I was about to walk away when I spotted Allison shoving back through the crowd, her expression already stern. “What did you just say to her?” Her voice was loud despite the noise, and the girls’ smiles faltered. That was the thing about Allison. She’d go to war for me without blinking, with no regard for how big the scene got. Normally I loved her for it, but tonight, with half the party’s attention already on me, the last thing I wanted was to become a story people told for the rest of the semester. I caught her wrist before she could say another word. “Don’t,” I said quietly, pulling her back. “It’s not worth it, Allie. Please.” “They’re disgusting,” she hissed, still glaring over her shoulder. “I know. But if you say one more word, this doesn’t end with an apology, it ends with everyone talking about it for two weeks. I just want tonight to be normal.” She studied my face, and the crease on her brows slowly faded away. “Fine,” she muttered. “But only because you asked nicely.” “Deal.” Allison could never stay upset for long. We walked through the crowd and found a quiet corner to sit. She took my hand in hers as her eyes narrowed with curiosity. “Okay, but for real. What has gotten into you tonight? You’ve been weird all week.” I hesitated, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I want to loosen up tonight. It’s been a hell of a week.” Her eyebrows shot up, and a grin spread across her face. “Oh my God. Are you finally going to have your first one-night stand?” “What? No!” My face heated all over again. “I meant alcohol, Allie. My first actual drink.” She blinked at me, and for half a second I could’ve sworn I saw disappointment flicker across her face before she burst out laughing and threw an arm around my shoulders. We found our way into the kitchen, where Allison poured us both something bright pink and dangerously sweet, and against the warning bells going off at the back of my head, I drank it. And then another. By the third cup, I’d stopped counting entirely, and somewhere down the line, I noticed that I’d stopped flinching every time someone laughed too loud near me. By now, the room had started spinning, and every joke Allison made felt like the funniest thing I’d ever heard in my life. I realized that I was actually having fun for the first time in longer than I could remember. “Bathroom,” I announced eventually, patting her arm. “I need the bathroom.” “Upstairs,” Allison said, waving vaguely toward the staircase. “Don’t fall.” I made my way up the stairs with one hand gripping the railing. The hallway was quiet and dim, lined with closed doors that all looked frustratingly identical in my current state. I picked one at random and pushed it open, and immediately, I forgot how to breathe. Because standing there shirtless, and with a dragon tattoo running down his arm, was the last person I could have imagined meeting tonight. His broad shoulders and perfectly aligned abs drew me in, and it wasn’t just the alcohol anymore. Every ounce of my traditional and extremely strict upbringing slipped away and was replaced by one insistent thought: touch him. I was so lost in my head I didn’t realize he had been staring at me the entire time. The moment I snapped out of my a slow, amused smirk spread across his face. “Can I help you?” he asked. “Or are you just going to stand there drooling on yourself?” My hand flew to my mouth, and I discovered that my spit was already slipping down my chin. Of course. Of every door in this house, I’d picked the one with Asher Whitfield.