Pretty Liar: The Captain's Obsession

Chapter 2

Zara POV

Students rushed across campus wrapped in expensive coats while banners with hockey players hung from nearly every building. Honestly, I was starting to think this university worshipped hockey more than actual education.

Beside me, Simone walked toward the administration building looking suspiciously cheerful.

I narrowed my eyes. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"I'm smiling normally, baby."

"That's not normal. That's the smile you get before ruining my life."

Simone gasped dramatically and pushed open the glass doors.

"Wow. The lack of trust is actually hurtful."

I followed her inside.

Three minutes later, I learned my instincts had been absolutely correct.

"You enrolled me in what ?_ "

My voice came out somewhere between a whisper and a threat as I stared at the paper in my hands like it had personally offended me. And Simi? She didn't even look guilty, which honestly made me angrier.

The administrative office of Whitedorchester University buzzed around us with exhausted students, annoyed parents, ringing phones, and the constant sound of keyboards clicking in the background, but somehow my aunt stood in the middle of the chaos looking perfectly moisturized and unbothered.

"How many f*****g times," I hissed, dragging her closer by the sleeve of her cropped cream coat, "have I told you I hate sports?" To even think that I asked her yesterday and she acted like she never had any plans all along.

Simone finally glanced at me over her sunglasses. "Baby, lower your voice before you start foaming at the mouth." I nearly choked.

"No, seriously," I snapped, shoving the schedule toward her chest. "SPORTS journalism? Why would you tell them I wanted sports journalism?"

"Because," she replied smoothly, "sports journalism had the fastest scholarship approval and better financial aid."

I blinked at her continuously like I couldn't contain her words in my head. "You sold my future to hockey people?"

"That sounds dramatic,baby."

"It is dramatic!"

A few nearby students glanced out before quickly pretending not to listen. I wanted to evaporate, instead, I tightened my grip around the stack of registration papers and tried not to scream.

I looked down at my schedule again in disbelief. ~ SPORTS MEDIA WRITING. ~ATHLETIC REPORTING. ~INTRODUCTION TO SPORTS BROADCASTING.

I genuinely felt so sick. "Simone," I whispered like I was about to cry. "I know absolutely nothing about sports."

"Writing is writing, baby."

"I will emotionally ruin you."

"That's my girl."

I glared at her so hard that she laughed. God! I hated Simone Reid sometimes. Okay, not really hated, obviously. Simone had raised me after my father died and my mother disappeared into whatever selfish hole she'd crawled into when I was five. She'd really sacrificed a lot for us, given the fact that she had poppy to cater for too. But at this moment? I wanted to really fight her a little.

I sighed heavily and rubbed my forehead before adjusting the sleeves of my oversized burgundy sweater. The clothes swallowed half my hands and matched the scarf wrapped around my neck. Underneath, I wore a black pleated skirt, sheer tights, and boots that fitted the whole outfit thingy. Simone insisted I looked 'academically hot', but I thought I looked tired. Which was fair because I barely slept after last night.

I just had the scene fixated in my head. The black headlights, gray eyes, and a devastatingly beautiful stranger leaning against a ruined Aston Martin while looking at me amusingly. And honestly, I still felt guilty ... worse, even when I remembered his expensive Ysl scent. I hated that I remembered that.

"Excuse me, miss?"

I blinked and looked up at the Blondie woman behind the desk. "Yes?"

"Your dorm assignment and media department registration are finalized." Media department? Oh God! I could actually pass out now! Simone smiled brightly. "Perfect." Traitor.

I grabbed the papers from the desk with all the enthusiasm of someone accepting prison documents when suddenly the atmosphere around us shifted. At first, I thought I was imagining things and my feelings, until I started to hear whispers. Heads turned toward the entrance of the administrative building one after another like dominoes tipping over. And just like some sort of celebrity was gracing our floor, girls started to bring out their phones and a group of athletes near the hallway suddenly looked alert.

"What's happening?" I muttered.

Simone glanced toward the entrance casually, then paused to bring out her phone. "Oh," she breathed. "I think we have James Arthur in here."

I followed her gaze ... and right there, I immediately regretted it. He walked through the building, tall, and effortlessly intimidating more than the actual university president probably did, flanked by two equally attractive guys who looked like they'd stepped out of some overpriced sports campaign. One was blond, grinning arrogantly while flirting with literally every girl looking his way. The other was darker, looking so cool, built like a human weapon and could visibly pass as a defender's energy.

But neither of them compared to Mr. Ysl .. or Ash ... Ashford. I remembered his name clearly. He wore a black hoodie under his half -zipped captain jacket, headphones handing around his neck while rings flashed against tattooed fingers. His tinted hair looked damp with sweat, like they'd just come straight from some practice, and there was something unfairly attractive about the exhaustion sitting on his face. Who was he? To get this kind of reaction from every f*****g person in the room? Some hockey boss?

Simone leaned toward me slightly. "Okay," she murmured. "That is a violently attractive man." Violently attractive man? Simi! Get a grip! You lied about him yesterday!

My stomach dropped because that man was already looking directly at me. He caught me. He was looking intensely at me. Christ! My body locked up before my brain could even react. Mr. Dunk Ysl from last night.

For one horrible second, all I could hear was my heartbeat. Ashford's frat eyes stayed on mine while his friends kept talking beside him, completely unaware. And the terrifying part? He looked amused! f*****g amused like seeing me there entertained him even more.

I swallowed hard and looked away first. Coward.

"Zara?" Simone whispered. "Why do you suddenly look constipated?"

"Don't look at me."

"That confirms nothing."

I ignored her completely, pretending to reorganize papers l'd already organized twice. Maybe .. maybe if I acted normal enough, he'd ignore and just keep walking. He probably-

A sudden thud hit my shoulder. I gasped softly as my balance tipped backward, papers slipping from my hands instantly, however, a strong arm caught me before I could hit the floor. The entire office seemed to go quietly around me and my breath seized.

Mr. Ysl. One tattooed hand gripped my waist firmly while the other steadied my arm, and suddenly he was way too close. Like really close for me to inhale the Ysl cologne. God! My face flushed with heat immediately, and his grip hardened when I tried pulling away too fast.

Then I realized something awful- he'd done it intentionally. A knowing smirk slowly curved across his mouth as his gaze dragged lazily over my face cruelly. Behind him, his blond friend looked seconds away from losing his mind laughing.

Ashford tilted his head slightly. "Oops," he said smoothly. My heart flipped flop stupidly inside my chest.

"Were you there?" I stared at him, he stared back. And suddenly I understood exactly why people looked at Ashford or Mr. Ysl, the way they did. It wasn't just because he was handsome. It was because he carried himself in some type of way, like someone who knew the world would actually forgive him for almost anything.

I finally found my voice. "You hit me."

His smirk only deepened. "Did l?"

"Maybe you were in my way."

I narrowed my eyes instantly. "You're insufferable."

"And you're a liar."

The words slipped out of his mouth like a tormenting whisper and even though nobody heard it ... it felt embarrassing because I did. He remembered.

I straightened fully from his gold and snatched my papers off the floor before glaring up at him. "You know," I muttered before my brain could stop me, "for someone worshipped by half the campus, you have terrible manners, Mr. YSL."

For the first time since walking in, Ashford actually looked so surprised. His friend barked out laughing instantly. "Mr. What?" I think I just called the wrong name!