Fake dating the Hockey Bad Boy

The student lounge at Hartwell University always smelled like burnt coffee and stress. Most days, Cora Bennett liked that. The noise gave her something to disappear into. The clatter of keyboards, the hiss of espresso machines—it was a shield. If everyone was busy with their own lives, nobody was looking at hers. She sat curled into a corner booth near the window, the rain tapping a rhythmic, lonely beat against the glass. A half-finished latte sat beside her notes, already cold. Her History essay remained untouched. Instead, her focus was anchored to the leather-bound notebook tucked beneath her textbook. She shouldn’t have brought it out. It was her private vault, and the stories inside weren't entirely fiction. The male lead had Eli’s golden-brown eyes and that specific, lopsided grin. If anyone ever saw it, especially Eli she’d have to leave the state. Or the country. She shoved the notebook deeper into her bag just as a shadow fell over the table. “Cora?” She startled so hard her knee slammed into the table. “Eli! God, you scared me.” Eli Shaw slid into the seat across from her, looking unfairly perfect in his varsity jacket despite the damp weather. “Jesus, you looked guilty as hell just now. Lost in the Renaissance again?” “Something like that,” Cora stammered, her heart still hammering. “You’ve been hiding in here all week,” Eli said, his expression softening into that protective, older-brother look that usually made Cora feel safe, but today made her feel like a fraud. He started to say something else, but then his gaze flicked toward the entrance. His face lit up. “Oh—I forgot. She transferred this morning.” Cora’s stomach dropped. “Who?” “Vanessa.” The name was a physical blow. Vanessa Thorne. The girl who had spent three years of high school turning Cora’s every insecurity into public entertainment. And now, she was strutting across the lounge like she owned the floorboards. “Cora Bennett,” Vanessa purred as she reached the table, sliding into the seat beside Eli. “What a small, unfortunate world.” The conversation that followed was a blur of Vanessa’s artificial sweetness and Eli’s blissful ignorance. When Eli’s phone buzzed with a call from his coach, he stepped away, leaving Cora alone with her ghost. The mask dropped instantly. Vanessa’s eyes darted to the table, zeroing in on the leather notebook. “Still writing your little secrets, Cora?” Before Cora could move, Vanessa snatched it. She flipped it open, her eyes scanning the pages with practiced cruelty. Then, she went still. Her gaze moved from the page to Eli’s retreating back, then back to Cora. “No way,” Vanessa whispered, her voice dripping with delight. “This isn't just smut. This is about him.” “Vanessa, give it back,” Cora hissed, her face burning. “I think Eli deserves to know his little sister has such... forbidden desires,” Vanessa said, leaning forward. “Or maybe the Dean would like to see it. Scholarship students have to maintain a certain image, right?” “Please,” Cora whispered, the word tasting like ash. “Is there a problem here?” The voice was like a slab of cold granite. Reed Calloway stood behind Vanessa, his dark hair damp from the rain, his expression unreadable. He was the Falcons’ "bad boy"—a man people moved for, not because he asked, but because they feared what happened if he snapped. Vanessa didn't flinch. “Just reading Cora’s fanfic, Reed. You’d love it. It’s about her step—” Reed didn't wait for her to finish. He plucked the notebook from her hand with a sharp flick of his wrist and slid it into his hoodie pocket. “She said give it back,” Reed said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that made the surrounding tables go quiet. “You can’t seriously care about her,” Vanessa scoffed. Reed leaned down, his shadow swallowing Vanessa. “I do when she’s my girlfriend.” The silence that followed was deafening. Cora stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Vanessa laughed, a harsh, disbelieving sound. “You and Cora? The hockey captain’s liability and the library mouse? Pull the other one, Calloway.” Reed’s hand closed gently on the back of Cora’s chair. The heat of him was grounding. “We’ve been together a few weeks. Didn't realize she forgot to mention it to you.” He looked at Vanessa with dead, cold eyes. “If I hear you mention that notebook again, we’re going to have a problem. And I have a lot less to lose than you do.” Vanessa’s confidence finally wavered. She grabbed her bag and stormed off just as Eli returned. When Eli heard the "news," he was blindsided, but Reed played the part with a calm conviction. Minutes later, Reed steered Cora out into the cold quad. He handed her the notebook in the shadow of the library pillars. “Why?” Cora gasped, clutching the book to her chest. “You’ve always hated me since the day I spilled coffee on you freshman year.” Reed leaned against the stone, the mask slipping to reveal a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. “I don’t hate you, Bennett. I just needed a distraction. My scholarship is under review because the board thinks I’m a liability. They want proof I’ve ‘settled down.’” He looked at her then, his gaze heavy and transactional. “Six weeks,” Reed said, his voice dropping to a low, serious command. “We pretend this is real. I keep your secret and keep Vanessa off your back. In exchange, you help me look like a reformed man so I don't lose my future.” Cora looked at him with disbelief and disgust, then at the man the whole campus was afraid of. He was a drowning man, and she was his only life jacket. Reed face hardening back into the guarded mask. “Think about it, Bennett. But don't take too long. Our first 'date' starts tomorrow.”