PUCK ME ON ICE

Chapter 17

Tessy’s POV

I shove against his chest, breaking away from the kiss as a hard frown settles on my face.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I snap, pure annoyance lacing my tone.

“What do you mean?” Ryder asks smoothly, raising an eyebrow like I’m the crazy one. “I’m kissing my girlfriend.”

“You know this is all pretend, right? We aren’t actually dating!” I say, irritation practically burning through my veins.

“I know that, but the rest of the school doesn’t,” he reasoning easily, taking a casual step closer. “How else do you think I’m going to make this convincing enough? My girlfriend came to my game, I got excited, and I kissed her. I don’t see what the problem is.”

I open my mouth to completely tear into him—until my gaze shifts past his shoulder.

Tristan is standing a few yards away. He looks at me with a mix of utter disappointment and hurt before turning around and walking away into the crowd.

My stomach drops into a bottomless pit.

“Are you sure you’re actually trying to help me with Tristan, or are you just trying to push him further away from me?!” I say, panic and anger bubbling up inside me.

“He saw us kissing,” Ryder says, totally unbothered. “He’ll get jealous and want you even more. Besides, stop acting like you didn’t like that I kissed you.”

My jaw drops. “What?! Ryder, you better—”

“Congratulations, Ryder!” Rebecca’s high-pitched voice interrupts us as she suddenly throws her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. “You were so amazing out there tonight!”

Ryder immediately pulls back, creating distance between them.

“Thank you, Rebecca, but next time a handshake would be better,” he says, his voice cool and distant. “My girlfriend is standing right in front of me, and I don’t want to disrespect her.”

Since when does he care so damn much about respecting me?!

Rebecca blinks, looking between us. “Oh! I am so sorry, Tessy! Please don’t take it the wrong way. I just got really excited and wanted to congratulate him, that’s all.”

“You don’t need to worry, I’m not upset,” I say, heavy annoyance dripping from every single word. “Honestly, you can go ahead and kiss him if you want.”

Without waiting for either of them to reply, I turn on my heel and march away into the chaotic crowd near the ice. Everything is completely ruined. How on earth am I supposed to explain to Tristan that I’m only doing all of this crazy fake-dating stuff just to get his attention?

As I make my way toward the exit, my gaze lands on Owen and Sophie practically eating each other’s faces off against the wall. Could they seriously not find a private room or something?

I rub my temples, feeling an oncoming headache. I just need to get the hell home.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A large, firm hand grabs my wrist from behind.

“Let go of me!” I snap, yanking my hand forcefully away from his grip. I spin around to face Ryder. “What do you mean, where am I going? Away from you, obviously!”

“We have a tutoring session tonight,” he says calmly.

I let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. “Ryder, I can’t tutor you tonight. I really—”

“Not that tutoring, silly,” he cuts in, a faint, mysterious smirk playing on his lips. “I’m going to do tutoring tonight. And I know the absolute best place for us to go.”

I pause, looking at him with deep confusion. “What...?”

“You want to win Tristan’s heart, right?” he asks, leaning down so his face is just inches from mine.

“Yes, but...”

“No buts. Come with me,” he says, wrapping his fingers firmly around my hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to... I don’t know, take a shower after playing an entire hockey game?” I ask, practically being dragged in his wake through the bustling corridors of the arena.

“I’ll do that. Just come on,” he mutters.

We step out into the crisp night air, and he leads me straight to his car. He pulls the passenger door open for me, and after a second of hesitation, I slide into the front seat. While he walks around to the driver's side, I quickly fire off a text to Sophie so she doesn't think I've been kidnapped:

Heading out with Ryder. Don't ask.

The drive is strangely quiet, the hum of the engine filling the silence between us. But out of nowhere, my phone starts buzzing violently against my thigh. Notification after notification floods my screen—dozens of new follower requests on i********:.

I open the app, utterly baffled, only to see my tagged photos blowing up.

The f**k?

Ryder literally posted the picture of us at the rink and tagged my handle right on it.

“What on earth is wrong with you?!” I snap, sharp annoyance lacing every word as I hold up the screen to his face. “Why would you post this?! What if our parents see it?!”

“Relax, they won’t,” he says smoothly, barely glancing away from the road. “My dad isn’t active on any socials. What about your mom? Is she on social media?”

“No, she isn’t, but—”

“So what’s all the worrying for?” he cuts in, a smug little smile playing on his lips as he focuses on the road. “Just relax your mind, okay?”

Unbelievable. I lock my phone and throw it into my lap, crossing my arms in defeat.

After another ten minutes, he pulls into a dimly lit, sleek building with a minimalist sign out front.

“A spa?” I say, raising an eyebrow at him as he cuts the engine.

“Yes. A spa works best at night,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Come on.”

He reaches over, takes my hand, and leads me inside before I can even argue. The place is quiet, luxurious, and smells faintly of eucalyptus and lavender. We’re led into separate treatment areas. I strip down and wrap myself in a plush towel, letting the female masseuse go to work on my back.

I hate to admit it, but she does a phenomenal job. Every ounce of stress from the hockey match, Tristan walking away, and Ryder's chaotic fake-dating stunt just melts out of my muscles. Afterward, they guide me to a deep soaking tub, practically bathing me in warm, scented water until I feel like a brand-new person.

Freshly dressed and completely relaxed, I step back out into the waiting lobby to find Ryder sitting on one of the leather armchairs, completely showered and wearing a clean hoodie.

“All done?” he asks, standing up the moment he sees me.

I give a small, reluctant nod. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go then,” he says, heading toward the glass doors.

I hurry behind him. “Where are you taking me now?”

Ryder stops and turns to face me, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “You honestly ask too many questions, Tessy. Do you trust me?”

“I don’t.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to,” he says, grabbing my hand again. “Now come with me.”

I let out a heavy sigh, unable to hide the small huff of frustration, but I just end up following him blindly out into the night anyway.