Chapter 10
1113 Words
Ivy
The evening practice had settled into a steady rhythm. The team was running drills, sticks clashing, skates carving sharp lines into the ice. I stayed on the sidelines, camera raised, trying to focus on my job instead of the way Asher kept glancing in my direction every few minutes.
Things were stable and almost normal.
Until Coach Harlan blew his whistle and waved me over.
“Hart, come here for a second.”
My stomach tightened. I lowered my camera and walked over to the bench where he stood. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, looking unusually serious.
“How are you doing today? I heard about the five points deducted from your scholarship,” he said without preamble. “That’s rough.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes, Coach.”
He sighed. “You know how these things work. Those points can follow you all the way to graduation, affect your overall standing, future recommendations, everything. As a scholarship student, there’s not much wiggle room.”
I stayed quiet, gripping the strap of my camera bag like a lifeline.
Coach glanced out at the ice for a moment before turning back to me. “The team is heading out tomorrow noon for a two-week pre-tournament trip. We need volunteers for media and support work — taking photos, helping with content, and basic logistics. If you agree to go, you can earn two points back toward your scholarship standing.”
My eyes widened. Two points. It wasn’t everything, but it was something. Still…
“I… I don’t know, Coach,” I said hesitantly. “Tomorrow? That’s really soon.”
He nodded. “I didn’t mention it earlier because we already had our volunteers lined up. But one of them fell sick this afternoon and can’t make it. The slot’s open if you want it. Just think about it and let me know by tonight.”
He gave me a firm but not unkind pat on the shoulder and blew his whistle, heading back to the ice.
I stood there, mind racing. Two weeks on the road with the team. With Asher. Pretending to be his girlfriend in front of everyone, every single day.
The thought made my chest tighten with equal parts dread and something dangerously close to anticipation.
Practice continued around me, but my focus was gone. Every time Asher skated past, powerful and focused, I felt his eyes on me. Like he already knew something was up.
I had until tonight to decide.
And I had no idea what the right choice was.
^^^
I barely slept last night.
I tossed and turned until the sheets were twisted around my legs like restraints, my mind imagining every terrifyingly sweet second of pretending to be Asher’s girlfriend.
By the time morning came, I was a zombie. Lena had spent the night out with her friends, so I left her a quick note and my number on her pillow before dragging my massively overstuffed suitcase out the door.
I’d packed like I was preparing for war, or better still exile. I had no idea where this two-week pre-tournament trip was taking us, what the weather would be like, or how long I’d have to survive playing house with Asher. So I brought everything. Layers for cold arenas, cute outfits in case we had media events, comfortable clothes for long bus rides… and maybe one or two things I definitely didn’t need to impress anyone.
I kept my head down as I dragged the heavy suitcase across the pavement toward the team bus, wheels rumbling loudly. The whole hockey team was already gathered in their matching blue and ash tees with numbers on the back. Thankfully, Asher was nowhere in sight yet.
Then I saw her.
Jennie.
Wait… his ex is coming with us? Oh no. No, no, no.
I stiffened the second her sharp gaze locked onto me. She looked flawless, her brunette hair cascading in perfect waves, full lips freshly glossed, cheer uniform hugging her body like it was tailored by the devil himself. She smiled, but it was all teeth and venom.
“Slut,” she called out loudly, her voice cutting through the morning air like a whip. Every head turned toward me.
Small bursts of laughter rippled through the group.
I ignored them, jaw clenched, and kept dragging my suitcase toward the bus. The damn thing felt heavier with every step.
“Why is your suitcase so big?” Jennie’s voice rang out again, dripping with mock sweetness. “Did you pack for an entire year, honey?”
I stumbled slightly as the whole team erupted in laughter. Heat flooded my cheeks. I kept my eyes on the ground, humiliation burning through me.
That’s when I sensed him.
Asher, Coach Harlan, and what I assumed was the bus driver were approaching. Asher’s expression darkened the moment he saw the scene. Instead of heading toward his teammates, he walked straight to me, steadying me with both hands on my shoulders as I nearly tripped again.
His touch was firm. Warm. Way too electric.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded, voice low and dangerous.
“Oh, Asher baby!” Jennie called out sweetly, waving her hand dramatically. “She was just proving what a little slut she is.”
My embarrassment flared into full-blown anger.
“Take a look at her suitcase,” Jennie continued with a laugh. “Who packs like that for two weeks? Is she planning to stay longer? Maybe she’s hoping to get laid while she’s at it—”
A few of her friends started laughing too, until one of them tugged her sleeve. “Jennie, that’s too far—”
Jennie yanked her arm free. “What? Isn’t it true?”
Asher’s grip on my shoulders tightened. He looked at me for a brief second, something protective flashing in his eyes before turning back to Jennie.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” he said coldly. “Like… finding a solution to that bald spot you keep trying to hide with all that hair spray?”
The entire group gasped.
Jennie’s face went sheet white, then bright red. The laughter died instantly.
Asher didn’t wait for her response. He slid his arm around my waist, pulled me flush against his side, and grabbed the handle of my ridiculous suitcase with his free hand.
“Let’s go,” he murmured against my ear, voice low enough that only I could hear. “I’ve got you.”
My heart stuttered violently as he steered me toward the bus, his body heat surrounding me like a claim.
- Writer
