Faking It With The Hockey Star

Harper’s POV

The arena was still buzzing long after the final buzzer sounded. Fans crowded the exits, waving posters and angling for pictures, while kids leaned over the barriers with hockey sticks and jerseys, desperately waiting for autographs. Even the reporters were still in high gear, chasing players down the concrete hallways.

I stood outside the locker room, leaning my back against the wall with my camera bag heavy on one shoulder. I couldn’t stop smiling if I tried.

A hat trick. An assist. The game-winning goal.

Justin had absolutely crushed it. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still hear the entire crowd chanting his name, shaking the rafters.

The heavy locker room door finally swung open, and players spilled out into the hallway, their loud laughter bouncing off the concrete. Mason spotted me immediately.

"There she is!" He pointed dramatically, shouting over the noise. "Our lucky charm!"

I laughed, shaking my head. "I didn’t score any goals."

"No," Mason said, his expression mock-serious. "But Justin did right after he spotted you in the stands."

Another teammate nudged his shoulder, grinning. "He’s actually not wrong."

Heat rushed straight to my cheeks. "Oh, stop it."

Before anyone else could join in on the teasing, Justin stepped out into the hall. He was wearing a fresh hoodie and dark jeans, his hair still wet from the shower. His eyes locked onto mine instantly.

That smile... It wasn’t the polished one he gave to the press or the flashy one he wore for the arena cameras. It was softer. Warmer. It looked like seeing me was the absolute best part of his night.

He walked straight over, not bothering to hide the way he slid an arm around my waist and pulled me close. "Ready?"

I nodded, leaning into his side. "So ready."

One of the defensemen clapped his hands together loudly. "So... where are we celebrating tonight? The bar?"

A few of the guys chimed in immediately, agreeing, but Justin shook his head.

"I’m skipping the bar tonight," he said. "Too many cameras, too much alcohol. And honestly..." He paused, looking down at me with a soft smile. "I just want a quiet night."

The group fell into a brief silence. Without really thinking through the impulse, I spoke up. "What if everyone just came over?"

Several heads snapped in my direction, and I suddenly felt a wave of shyness hit me.

"I mean... I could order pizza," I offered quickly. "Get some snacks, soft drinks. We could just hang out at the apartment. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy."

For a second, nobody said a word. Then Mason threw both hands into the air like he’d just won the Cup. "I officially approve of Justin’s girlfriend!"

The hall erupted in laughter. Justin squeezed my waist tight, leaning down. "I told you she was perfect."

I elbowed him gently in the ribs. "Don’t make this weird."

"Too late for that," he chuckled.

We walked out to the parking lot together under the cold night air. Justin reached into his pocket and tossed his key fob toward me. "Here. You take my car, I’ll ride back with Mason."

I caught the keys, staring down at the warm metal sitting in my palm. "...Justin."

"What?"

"I can’t."

He stopped, his brows pulling together in a frown. "What do you mean you can’t?"

"I..." I let out a nervous laugh. "I don’t know how to drive."

Total silence hit the parking lot.

"You..." He blinked at me, thoroughly baffled. "...don’t drive?"

I shook my head, my face heating up again. "I never learned. I didn’t really have anyone around to teach me, and professional driving lessons were way too expensive."

Justin stared at me for a long moment. Then, he let out a dramatically heavy sigh. "Okay."

"What?"

"After scout week..." He tossed his arm over my shoulder. "I’m teaching you."

I laughed out loud. "You?"

"Yes, me. I’ll be a fantastic teacher."

Mason sauntered past us, hauling his massive hockey bag over one shoulder. "No, he won’t."

Justin looked offended. "I absolutely will!"

"You almost drove into a mailbox when you were trying to teach me," Mason countered, not even slowing down.

"It was one mailbox, Mason. And it belonged to my neighbor."

"It built character," Mason yelled over his shoulder.

"It built an insurance claim!"

I burst into laughter as Justin pointed a defensive finger at Mason’s retreating back. "I suddenly remember why I don’t like you."

"You love me!" Mason shouted back.

"I tolerate you," Justin grumbled under his breath. "Same thing."

We took a detour to a pizza place a few minutes down the road. While Justin ordered enough food to feed an entire small army, I dragged a cart through the grocery store next door, filling it with chips, cookies, sodas, and tub after tub of ice cream.

Justin caught up to me and glanced inside the overflowing cart. "Are you planning to feed the whole university, or just the team?"

"I’ve met your teammates," I reminded him, tossing in a bag of pretzels. "They eat like they’ve been stranded on a desert island for six months."

He quieted down, nodding in thought. "...Fair point."

Less than an hour later, his apartment didn’t feel like just his apartment anymore. It felt like ours.

Stack after stack of greasy pizza boxes covered the kitchen island. Country music hummed softly from the Bluetooth speaker in the corner, almost drowned out by the chaos. A cutthroat card game had broken out on the coffee table, and someone was already losing spectacularly.

Over by the couch, Mason had somehow convinced half the roster that he would’ve scored four goals himself if Coach hadn’t benched him in the third period. Coach wasn’t even in the building, and nobody in the room was buying it anyway.

Laughter bounced off every single wall. For once, no one mentioned Ethan. Nobody talked about the anonymous accounts or brought up my father, and no one spoke a word about Justin’s family drama. Tonight, they were just a group of college kids celebrating a legendary win.

I slipped away from the living room and wandered into the kitchen to grab another soda. As I reached into the fridge, a muscular arm stretched past mine.

Justin. He leaned right over me to swipe a lukewarm slice of leftover pepperoni.

I slapped his wrist away. "What are you doing?"

"What?" He blinked at me, trying to look completely innocent. "What do you mean, what?"

"You have another game next week," I said, eyeing the grease dripping off the crust.

"So?"

"So put the pizza down."

"It’s literally one slice, Harper."

I folded my arms over my chest and held his gaze. "Justin."

He looked down at the slice, then back at me, letting out another dramatic sigh before placing it back in the box. "...You’re no fun."

"I care about your arteries."

"I’m twenty-two."

"Which means you should know better."

He laughed, leaning against the counter. "Happy now?"

"Very."

He lowered his head, dropping his voice so only I could hear. "I let you win that one, by the way."

"You did not."

"I absolutely did."

Before I could fire back a response, he leaned down and stole a quick, soft kiss right off my lips.

A loud wolf-whistle echoed from the living room, breaking the moment. We both turned to see half the team staring into the kitchen. Mason was frozen with a tortilla chip halfway to his mouth.

"I knew it!" Mason called out.

Another teammate groaned, tossing a couch pillow at him. "Oh, come on, guys. We’re trying to eat here."

My face burned bright red, but Justin just threw his head back and laughed. "They’re just jealous."

"They’re annoying," I corrected him under my breath.

"They can definitely be both."

Later that evening, the apartment slowly began to empty out. One teammate left, then another, until Mason was the last one standing at the front door.

He pointed a stern finger at Justin. "Enjoy the win, man." Then he looked at me. "And make sure this idiot actually gets some sleep tonight."

"I’ll try," I smiled.

"He won’t," Mason added quickly.

"I heard that!" Justin shouted from the kitchen.

Mason grinned, stepping out into the hall. "I wanted you to!"

The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind him, and real silence settled over the apartment.

I looked around the living room. Empty soda cans cluttered the side tables, half-eaten pizza boxes littered the counter, and paper plates were stacked high by the sink. It was a complete wreck, but it felt like the happiest mess I had ever seen in my life.

Justin walked up behind me, slipping his fingers into mine. "So..."

"So?" I looked up at him.

"We survived."

I smiled softly. "We did."

He scanned the quiet room, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath before his dark eyes drifted back to mine. "You know... this place hasn’t felt this alive in years."

My heart squeezed tight in my chest. I turned slightly and rested my head right against his shoulder. "It suits you."

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "I think so, too."

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