Faking Forever With My Hockey Roommate

Chapter7

Niko's POV

"Dude, are you f*****g insane?"

David was standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at me like I’d just told him I was quitting the league to join the circus. He hadn't even rubbed the sleep out of his eyes yet, but his jaw was practically on the floor.

I took a slow sip of my coffee, unbothered. It was almost impressive how similar he and Zaria were when they got dramatic. It must be a genetic thing. The same flared nostrils, the same wide-eyed disbelief, the same total inability to just take a win and move on with their morning.

"I'm completely sane," I said, setting my mug down on the counter. "And lower your voice. She's right down the hall."

"Lower my voice?" David took a step toward me, throwing his hands up. "Niko, what the hell are you doing with my cousin? This isn't some trashy romance book where the rich guy pays a girl to pretend to be his girlfriend. Who does that in this day and age? What's your angle here?"

I rolled my shoulders, keeping my face totally neutral. "There is no angle, David. And in those books, isn't the guy usually doing it because he's secretly in love with her or something?"

David blinked. "Yeah, usually."

"Right. Well, I don't know your cousin," I said flatly. "I met her less than thirty-six hours ago while she was sobbing into a pillow. I don't love her, and she currently hates my guts."

"Then why thirty grand?"

"Think of it as an investment, she needs money, I have money, and using her buys me thirty days of stability so the board doesn't terminate my contract and take away millions," I explained,

breaking it down like he was a five-year-old.

"It's math, David. Simple, practical math. She solves my problem, I solve hers, and everybody walks away clean."

David rubbed his hand over his face, letting out a long, heavy sigh. "She's going through a lot right now, Niko. Callum really f****d her over. I don't want her getting dragged into your media circus."

"She signed a contract," I reminded him gently, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a brief, reassuring squeeze. "I'm not going to hurt her, and I'm not going to let the press devour her either. I'm protecting my career. That's it. Relax."

David looked at me for a long moment, searching my face for something, before he finally slumped his shoulders. "Fine. But if you make her cry again, I'm checking you into the boards at practice tomorrow."

"Deal," I smiled.

I picked up my coffee, left David hovering by the stove, and walked back down the hall to my room, shutting the door behind me.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and dialed Dmitri. He picked up on the second ring, his voice sharp and alert.

"Tell me you have good news," Dmitri said by way of a greeting. "Because Patterson’s secretary called ten minutes ago asking for a preliminary update on your status."

"I have the solution," I said, leaning back against my headboard and stretching my legs out.

"I'm listening.”

"I signed a thirty-day fake dating contract this morning," I said casually.

Silence on the other end. A long, heavy, agonizing silence that lasted a good five seconds.

"Niko," Dmitri said slowly, his tone laced with pure exhaustion. "Please tell me you are joking."

"I'm not joking. It's solid, Dmitri. I’m using David’s cousin. She moved in two nights ago after getting dumped by her ex. She's broke, desperate as f**k for cash, and bonus she’s actually really pretty. She doesn't look like some hired escort or a public relations stunt. She looks real."

"David’s cousin?" Dmitri repeated, the sound of paper shuffling through the line. "Is she reliable? Is she going to fold the second a camera gets in her face?"

"She has a tongue like a razor blade," I said, thinking back to the way she had glared at me yesterday on the frozen sidewalk. "Trust me, she isn't folding for anyone. She needs the money for her mom's medical bills, so she's fully incentivized to play her part."

Dmitri let out a low whistle. "Thirty days of you acting like a settled, devoted, domestic boyfriend... God, the board might actually buy it. It completely counters the party-boy narrative from that leaked video."

"Exactly," I said. "Which means we need to kick this off fast. I don't want to wait for a team event next week. I want the press to 'accidentally' catch us immediately."

"Alright," Dmitri sighed, already shifting into business mode. "How do you want to play it?"

"Arrange a little run-in with the paparazzi soon," I instructed, tapping my fingers against my knee. "A restaurant. Somewhere nice, but not overly flashy. Make it look like a private, intimate dinner that got 'leaked' by a bystander. I'll take her out, we'll get photographed looking like a couple, and by tomorrow morning, the league will have their proof that I'm behaving myself."

"I can set that up for Thursday night at Le Petit Bistro," Dmitri said. "I'll tip off a photographer who knows how to keep his mouth shut about where he got the lead."

"Perfect," I said. "Get it done."

I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the mattress beside me, leaning my head back against the wall.

It was a good plan. It was an efficient plan. Nikolai Volkov was about to become the most attentive, doting boyfriend in the city, and all it was going to cost me was thirty thousand dollars and thirty days of enduring Zaria Reeds' death stares.

Easy money.