THE HOCKEY CAPTAIN’S PRETEND GIRL

CHAPTER 2

RHYS

I lay my hand on the horn and hold it there. The sound blasts through the windshield, loud enough to rattle my teeth.

“Get off the road!” I shout, even though he can’t hear me through the glass.

The guy in the silver sedan doesn’t even look back. He just sticks his middle finger up and swerves into my lane. His tires cross the yellow line. His bumper almost clips mine.

He’s lucky I’m too angry to pull over. If I wasn’t already having the worst day of my life, I’d probably follow him just to yell in his face.

Today has been a disaster from the moment I woke up. Every phone call has been worse than the one before it.

It started with my agent. He screamed in my ear for forty five minutes straight, all because of a girl I used to see. We hooked up a few times, nothing serious. We even sat down and talked about it. We both agreed it was casual. No strings attached. No promises made.

Now she’s all over the internet, telling anyone who will listen that I’m a playboy. She says I used her. She says she thought there were real feelings between us, and that I’m just another guy who throws women away the second things get boring.

She even used the word misogynistic. That one really stuck with me.

My agent thinks this is going to wreck my career. He keeps saying the same thing over and over, like if he repeats it enough it’ll sink into my head. “The public doesn’t understand casual s*x anymore, Rhys. They want love stories. They want commitment. Your brand is taking a hit because you didn’t fall in love with her.”

I don’t even know what that means. I didn’t do anything wrong. But apparently that doesn’t matter anymore.

My phone buzzes on the passenger seat. I glance over. It’s Jonah.

I let it ring until it stops. I love the guy, but I can’t handle a real conversation right now. My head is already full.

People ask me sometimes why I don’t live alone. I have the money for it. My contract with the team could buy me a penthouse with empty rooms and no roommates. But I’ve never liked empty spaces. Silence makes my brain louder, not quieter. And Jonah has earned his spot in my life more than anyone else.

Back when I was drowning in my last few elective classes, ready to just drop out and risk losing my eligibility to play, Jonah showed up. He tutored me at two in the morning more times than I can count. He made sure I passed when I was ready to give up on myself.

So when I signed the lease on this apartment, I told him to pack his bags. No debate. He belonged here.

Ten minutes later, I pull into the parking garage under our building. I cut the engine and just sit there for a second, gripping the wheel. Then I grab my gym bag and head up.

When I push open the front door, Jonah is standing in the kitchen, arms crossed.

“I was calling you,” he says.

I toss my keys onto the counter. They clatter against the granite, way louder than I meant them to be.

“Bad day,” I tell him, dropping my bag by one of the stools. “Agent’s losing his mind over this podcast thing.”

Jonah leans back against the island, watching me carefully. “Well, my sister’s having an even worse one. She’s on her way here right now.”

That gets my attention. I look up at him. “Your sister? Sadie?”

“How many sisters do you think I have?” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“Just checking,” I say. “What happened?”

“Her ceiling caved in,” Jonah says, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s bracing for me to say no. “Whole thing just collapsed in her apartment. She doesn’t have anywhere to stay while… they fix it. I already told her she could come here.”

He watches me for a second, waiting for me to push back.

“I hope that’s okay,” he adds fast, like he’s trying to talk me into it before I even say anything. “She won’t be in the way. She can take the spare room. I’ll clean it up myself before she gets here.”

“It’s fine, man,” I say.

“She’s not loud or anything,” he keeps going, like he didn’t hear me. “She’s actually really reserved. Keeps to herself. You probably won’t even notice she’s here.”

I hold up a hand to stop him. “Jonah. She’s your sister. If she needs a place to stay, she can stay. You don’t need to sell me on it.”

His shoulders drop a couple inches, like he’s finally letting go of a breath he was holding. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “Seriously.”

I walk past him and pull open the fridge, scanning the shelves for something cold to drink. While I’m standing there, I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the screen.

Three new texts. All from my agent.

Agent: Remember to go through the list of girls we selected.

Agent: They’ve agreed to help with the publicity campaign.

Agent: I really recommend the nursing student. She seems down to earth. Very believable.

I stare at the screen until the words start to blur together. My jaw tightens.

I can’t believe this guy is actually trying to set me up with some random stranger just to save my image. Like I’m a product that needs fixing. Like my personal life is just another thing for him to manage.

I shove the phone back in my pocket and slam the fridge door harder than I mean to. The bottles inside rattle.

I don’t want a fake relationship. I don’t want some PR stunt dressed up as a girlfriend. And I am not, under any circumstances, fake dating anyone just to make my agent’s job easier.