Faking Forever With My Hockey Roommate

Chapter 9

Zaria's POV

I stepped out into the hallway, smoothing down the front of the dress, and stopped in front of the full-length mirror near the entrance.

I looked at myself. Really looked at myself.

Godamnnnnnn.

I had spent the last three days feeling like absolute garbage,eyes swollen, skin pale, living in oversized clothes that swallowed me whole.

But now? I had put on a little lipstick, curled my hair so it fell over my shoulders in soft waves, and zip-locked myself into this nice ass dress.

The dress itself was simple but the way it fit was just great.

It made my waist look tiny and hugged every curve like it had been tailored specifically for me.

So yeah, maybe I was a little depressed, heartbroken, and living out of a suitcase, but damn. I looked incredible.

I pulled out my phone, angled it toward the mirror, and took a quick picture. Then another one. I was adjusting my pose to catch the lighting when a voice spoke up right behind me.

"Are you taking selfies?"

I froze, my hand snapping down so fast I almost dropped the phone.

Nikolai was standing by the kitchen island, leaning against the counter with a look of pure, insufferable amusement. He was wearing a dark charcoal suit with a black dress shirt beneath it, no tie, the top two buttons undone. He looked infuriatingly sharp. Like he had stepped straight off the cover of a magazine without even trying.

My cheeks flushed hot. "No. I mean…I was checking my angles for the press," I lied smoothly, sliding my phone into the small clutch he’d left on my bed. "You said I needed to look the part."

"Right. That's definitely what you were doing," Niko said, his lips twitching as he pushed off the counter and walked toward me. He stopped a few feet away, his eyes sweeping over me slowly, taking in the dress, the hair, the makeup. His expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed just a fraction before he looked back up at my face. "Not bad, Reeds."

"Pfft,Not bad?" I crossed my arms, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "I look amazing, Volkov. I don't need you to tell me that. I have eyes."

"Yeah, of course you look good," he said, adjusting his watch with total nonchalance. "You've never worn Chanel in your life. Chanel makes anyone look good.”

My mouth dropped open. "What the hell? I could buy Chanel right now if I wanted to!"

"Zaria," Niko said, looking at me like I was a child explaining how magic worked. "That dress costs two thousand dollars."

"What the f**k?" I gasped, staring at him. Two thousand dollars for a piece of fabric? That was almost two months of rent at my old place! I took a quick breath, cleared my throat, and straightened my shoulders. "You know what? I don't f*****g care. Not my money anyway, keep the insults coming if it comes with a price tag like that."

He let out a small, quiet laugh, heading toward the front door and grabbing his keys.

I followed him into the hallway, trying to sound completely casual as I caught up to his stride. "But... I get to keep it, right?"

Niko didn't even turn around. "Sure. You can keep the dress. I don't care."

We took the elevator down to the private garage beneath the building. Parked in a reserved bay was a sleek, jet-black sports car that looked like it cost more than my entire extended family's combined net worth.

I paused by the passenger side, eyeing the leather interior. "Is this your car?"

"Yeah," he said, unlocking it with a click. "Get in."

Well damn, okay.

The drive downtown was quiet, the engine humming as Niko navigated through the afternoon traffic with one hand on the wheel. The closer we got to the restaurant, the more my stomach started twisting into knots. My hands were practically sweating inside my lap.

When the car finally pulled up to a high-end bistro with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, Niko put the vehicle in park and turned to look at me.

"Alright," he said, his voice dropping into that calm, businesslike tone. "Look at me."

I turned my head toward him.

"We are boyfriend and girlfriend," he said firmly.

“Right.” I breathed.

"We've been seeing each other quietly for a few weeks. You like me, I like you. We are not business partners, and we are not strangers. Got it?"

"Got it," I murmured.

He stepped out of the car, walked around to my side, and opened the door. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, his hand wrapped around mine. His palm was large, warm, and dry, his fingers lacing through mine without hesitation.

My heart did a sudden, stupid flip in my chest. Which was definitely just the nervousness.

As we started walking toward the restaurant entrance, my head was spinning. I kept darting my eyes left and right, scanning the sidewalks, checking behind parked cars, looking at the windows across the street.

Niko tugged gently on my hand, pulling me closer to his side. "Stop looking around."

"I'm looking for the paparazzi!" I whispered fiercely under my breath, keeping my eyes moving.

"Which is what you're not supposed to do, so S

top looking around," he repeated, his tone smooth and commanding. "Act natural. Just look at me."

"I don't want to look at you," I grumbled, forcing my eyes forward.

Niko leaned down slightly, his breath warm against the side of my ear as we reached the double doors of the bistro. "I think you look hot."

I froze mid-step, my head snapping toward him in total shock. Blood rushed to my face so fast my ears felt like they were burning. I stared at him, my eyes wide, waiting to see if he was messing with me.

Niko didn't smile. He didn't smirk. He just looked down at me with a completely blank, serious face, like he had just stated a fact about the weather.

The contrast between his absurd line and his stone-cold face was so ridiculous that a sudden, breathless laugh escaped my lips. I covered my mouth with my free hand, laughing softly as we walked through the doors.

That natural reaction was all it took.

The moment we stepped inside the dining room, a wave of low whispers washed over the restaurant. I felt the atmosphere shift instantly. Heads turned. A couple sitting near the front window leaned in close to whisper to each other, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw two people at a corner table pull out their phones, angling them directly toward us.

Panic flared in my chest. I stiffened, my smile disappearing as I realized how real this was getting.

The hostess led us to a table by the front window,a prime spot with a clear view from the street. The second we sat down, I looked outside. A small crowd had already started gathering on the sidewalk across the glass. Three different people had their phones held up, flashlights blinking as they snapped photos of us through the window.

I instinctively brought both hands up to cover my face, leaning back in my chair. "Oh my God," I hissed through my fingers. "They're literally taking pictures right now."

Niko leaned across the small table, resting his forearms on the white tablecloth. "Yeah. That's a perfect response. Keep doing that."

"I'm not doing a response, I'm mortified!" I squeaked.

Before I could react, Niko reached across the table. His fingers gently cupped my jaw, his thumb resting against my cheekbone as he tilted my face sideways, turning me slightly so the light from the window hit my profile. His touch was firm, smooth, and infuriatingly gentle.

My breath caught in my throat. I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"What the hell?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "What the hell are you doing?"

Niko didn't let go. He just held my face in his hand, looking at me with those steady, unreadable eyes while the camera lenses flashed endlessly outside the glass.

"Making it look real, Reeds," he murmured softly. "Now smile for your boyfriend.”