The Captain’s Accidental Girlfriend

Chapter 5

The Captain’s Fake Girlfriend

Riley’s Pov

Stepping into the main hallway of Blackridge Academy on Tuesday morning felt like walking onto a theater stage without a script. Just twenty-four hours earlier, I had been an invisible transfer student trying to keep her head down.

Now, holding hands with Mason Hayes, I felt every single pair of eyes in the building burning straight through us. Whispers buzzed through the locker aisles like angry hornets, and girls who used to ignore me suddenly stared with narrowed, jealous eyes.

"You are gripping my hand so tight you are going to break my fingers," Mason whispered, leaning down toward my ear with a smirk playing on his lips.

I immediately loosened my grip, though I kept my hand firmly locked inside his because we had an audience to convince. "Shut up, Hayes," I muttered under my breath, staring straight ahead. "And remember the rules. The second we turn this corner, we are strictly business partners again."

Mason chuckled, a warm, low sound that rumbled right against my shoulder. "Whatever you say, sunshine. But you have to admit, we are doing a pretty convincing job."

Convincing was an understatement. By lunchtime, the rumor had taken on a life of its own. When I walked into the cafeteria with my tray, Emma was already waving frantically from our usual table, her eyes wide as saucers and a massive grin plastered across her face. The moment I sat down, she grabbed both of my wrists and shook them excitedly.

"Are you going to explain why the most famous hockey captain in the school just walked you to the door and kissed the top of your head like you are in a movie?!" Emma whisper-shrieked, leaning across the table so nobody else could hear. "Since when do you even talk to Mason Hayes, let alone date him?"

"It is not what it looks like," I said quickly, stabbing a tomato with my fork and avoiding her knowing gaze. "It is just... a very temporary, complicated arrangement."

Emma raised one skeptical eyebrow, leaning back with a knowing smile. "Right. A temporary arrangement. That must be why you were blushing like a tomato when he carried your books yesterday. Face it, Riley. The great wall of Riley Brooks is officially crumbling."

"My walls are completely fine," I insisted, though my hot cheeks instantly betrayed me.

The rest of the day dragged on slowly, but Mason made sure I never forgot our deal for even a single minute. He was everywhere. He waited outside my literature class with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, he slid into the empty seat beside me at lunch without asking for permission, and every time someone walked past us, his heavy arm naturally draped over my shoulders, pulling me just a little bit closer than our rules allowed. Every time he did it, my heart did a stupid little flip that I hated with all my heart.

By late afternoon, the school schedule shifted to the athletic wing for the big team practice before the weekend championship. As part of our agreement to keep his father and the scouts convinced, I had to sit in the metal bleachers near the hockey rink and watch him practice.

The indoor arena was freezing cold, smelling heavily of melting ice, sweat, and old rubber. I pulled my jacket tighter around myself as I sat alone on the second row of the bleachers. Down on the ice, the players looked completely different.

Without his usual cocky classroom smirk, Mason on the ice was all raw power and sharp focus. He moved across the rink like lightning, his stick handling the puck with effortless speed before he slammed it straight into the back of the net during a drill.

Across the ice, two of his teammates, Jaxon and Noah, skated past him and banged their sticks against the boards, laughing loudly.

"Nice shot, Captain!" Jaxon yelled over the echo of the skates. "Guess having a girlfriend gives you extra superpowers!"

Mason shot them a dark, warning glare through his clear face mask, but a faint trace of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he skated away to join the next drill.

When practice finally ended, I waited near the concrete exit tunnel by the locker rooms, hugging my arms against the chill. A few minutes later, the heavy door swung open, and Mason stepped out carrying his massive equipment bag over one shoulder. His dark hair was damp from a quick shower, and he was wearing a simple black hoodie that made his green eyes look even brighter.

He spotted me immediately, and that familiar, soft smile replaced his intense game face. He walked over, dropping his heavy bag onto the floor with a dull thud.

"Thanks for staying, Riley," Mason said quietly, his voice gentle in the echoing hallway. "I know sitting in a freezing ice rink for two hours is not your idea of a fun afternoon."

"It's fine," I said, looking down at my sneakers to avoid his intense gaze. "I used the time to finish our history notes anyway. We are keeping up our end of the bargain."

Mason stared at me for a long moment, the playful teasing completely gone from his expression. The hallway was quiet, the rest of the team having already rushed out to the parking lot, leaving just the two of us standing under the buzzing fluorescent lights.

"Is that all this is to you?" Mason asked softly, taking a slow step closer to me. "Just a bargain?"

My breath hitched in my throat. I looked up, finding myself trapped in his intense green eyes. As he stepped closer, the space between us suddenly felt entirely too small. He lifted one hand, his fingers hesitating for a fraction of a second before gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face, tucking it carefully behind my ear. His thumb lingered softly against my cheekbone, warm and steady.

My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. He leaned in slowly, his gaze dropping down to my lips for a split second, and my eyes fluttered shut on instinct. I could feel the warm heat radiating off him, and for one crazy second, I didn't care about the rules, the scholarship, or the fake relationship. I actually wanted him to kiss me.

Then, suddenly, Mason froze.

He pulled back as if he had just touched a hot stove, dropping his hand and stepping away with a heavy sigh. He ran his fingers roughly through his damp hair, looking annoyed with himself.

"Right," Mason muttered, his voice strained. "We agreed. No real feelings. No crossing the line."

I opened my eyes, a sudden wave of embarrassment and sharp disappointment crashing over me. I forced my face into a cool, calm expression, stepping back to put a safe distance between us.

"Exactly," I said, my voice sounding much steadier than my shaking hands felt. "Good thing you remembered, Hayes. See you tomorrow."

I turned on my heel and walked rapidly down the corridor toward the exit, my boots clicking sharply against the concrete floor. I told myself I was relieved that he stopped, that I had dodged a massive bullet. But deep down inside, as I walked out into the cool evening air, a quiet, annoying voice in my head kept asking the one question I was terrified to answer: Why did I secretly hope he wouldn't stop at all?