Weak Side : A Fake Dating Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

She was meant to have eyes on her. The way she danced with elegance and beauty was something that only someone who was as determined as Claire could possess. She was everything I craved and everything I wanted for my future. I was captivated, and by the silence in the row the hockey team and I sat in, I was pretty sure they were just as breathless as I was.

Her leaps were just as poised and strict as my first impression of her, but her spins were as soft and light, like the air around her when we were alone. My heart rammed against my ribs as I continued to watch her trail across the stage, and I was pretty certain that I wanted this for her as much as she wanted it for herself.

My fist clenched as I lost myself in her dance, wanting more. I could spend the rest of my life in this seat, watching her reach her goals, and be perfectly content with it.

“Damn, bro. She’s something else.” I hardly heard Ford’s whisper, but my head tilted with irritation with his next statement. “What are you going to do when your little fake relationship is over?”

I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t fake and that there was no end in the future, but all thoughts seized as Claire’s eyes skimmed over our row. Instead of her latching onto me for long, she looked behind me, and I instantly knew something was wrong. Call it intuition or maybe I knew her so well that even the tiniest squint of her eye told me more than she ever could with words. I sat up straighter as I watched her take off from the corner and knew it wasn’t going to end well.

I quickly spun around, and when my eyes landed on Chad, I had to force myself to turn away to watch the end of her dance before I killed him.

“Oh fuck.” 

My eyes widened the moment she landed. Her strained ankle bent, and instead of her catching herself like she had in practice this week, she toppled over, and her head hit the hard stage. The sound vibrated against my skull, even through the music, and instead of hauling myself over the back of my seat to strangle Chad, who I knew was the reason she stumbled, I jumped up and rushed down the aisle of the auditorium and met Claire’s professor, along with a few dancers.

“Bryant,” I demanded, pulling her into my lap. Her body was limp, and her head lollygagged to the left before I cupped the side of her face, caressing it lightly. “Claire, wake up.”

“Call 911,” someone said in the background, but I ignored them as Claire’s eyelashes began to flutter open.

My chest quivered to see her blue eyes, and everything faded when she finally opened them and landed on me. “Hey,” I rushed out, hearing the fear in my voice. “You okay?”

Claire blinked once and then twice before gasping. Her hand tightened around my bicep, but it was a faint grip. Her eyes shut tightly, and there was next to nothing for color along her face.

“Claire, sweetie.” Her professor hovered above us. Claire’s eyes opened, and I brushed my thumb over the arch of her cheek, ignoring the rising nausea in my stomach. It was like watching my world crumble, just knowing that she was hurt. I panicked. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Her head shook against my palm, and she tried to sit up. “No, stay where you are,” I whispered. “Answer her question. How many fingers?”

Claire looked again. “I…” her voice cracked. “I can’t tell. Three?” Her eyes blinked again. “I’m not sure. It’s a little blurry, and I…I have a headache.”

Goddamnit. My arms went under her legs, and I stood up, careful to keep her steady. “Don’t fall asleep,” I demanded. “And keep your eyes open.”

Aasher opened the door and said, “I have the car ready. Let’s go.”

I nodded and held on tighter to Claire, not even bothering to see if Chad was still lingering. I’d deal with him later. Right now, Claire was the priority, and I was quickly realizing that she was always going to be the priority.

I hadn’t been in a hospital since the time I slipped on the ice without my helmet on and busted my head, needing stitches. My mother was livid, but my father only shrugged and asked her what she expected from Rachel’s son—Rachel being my real mother, the one we never brought up. It was a loss that the entire family mourned and continued to mourn to this day.

“What are they saying?” Ford’s voice was distant on the phone, and I was pretty sure I was on speaker.

“They did a CT, making sure she doesn’t have a brain bleed. I haven’t been back in the room. I’m not family, so I can’t go in, which is fucking ridiculous because they let Taytum in.”

“Well, I hate to admit it, but she’s prettier than you.”

“You’re not funny.” I rolled my eyes as I leaned against the wall in the emergency room waiting area. There were only a few people here, but their eyes were moving to me every few minutes, probably because I was wearing my jersey but wasn’t at the game.

“Um, I hate to ask but…when you gettin’ here, Wolf?” There was some jumbling on the phone, and I knew that Ford had taken me off speaker. “I can only stall Coach for so long. He’s gonna start throwing shit soon.”

I dangled Aasher’s keys in my hand, spinning them back and forth several times to calm my nerves. “When I know Claire is okay.”

Ford stayed silent, and I ignored the throbbing in the back of my skull as I angled my head up to the ceiling. “I’ll be there before the whistle blows.”

“You know Tom is still here, right?”

Fuck. 

“I know.”

“Where the fuck is Theo?” I cringed at Coach’s gruff voice in the background and quickly hung up and began pacing back and forth, holding my phone with a death grip.

The door swung open, and I stopped in my tracks, landing on Taytum.

“How is she?” I asked.

I loved hockey. I breathed hockey. My future was hockey. But nothing seemed important in this moment except for Claire, and I would be fucking damned if I made her feel as insignificant as she had in the past. I wouldn’t leave this hospital until I knew she was okay and she knew that I was out here waiting.

“She’s tired. A little dizzy. She has a concussion, but they don’t think it’s anything more serious than that. Still waiting for the results, though.”

“Does she know I’m out here?”

Before Taytum could answer, the air in the waiting room turned to ice, and she began to glare. I spun around, and suddenly, I was back on the ice, ready to tear down my opponent.

“Leave.”

Chad’s shoulders straightened, and he leveled me with a scowl not even close to as intimidating as the one on my face. I was seething. My chest was beginning to fill with hot rage, and if I didn’t feel the presence of the security off to the left, I would have pummeled the shit out of this fuck-boy.

“Do you feel good about what you did?” I took a step forward and shook my head, getting straight to the point. “Why do you keep fucking showing up? Every time I turn around, you’re there, fucking something up for Claire. I don’t understand.”

Chad cleared his throat. “You wanna know why I keep showing up?”

Taytum stepped forward. “Chad, just leave. Nothing good can come from you being here right now.” Taytum turned toward me. “And you have a game to get to. You need to go too.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I see her.”

Chad laughed, and I snapped my attention over to him. Is he purposely egging me on? “I think I can take it from here, bud.”

I tilted my head and the step toward him was menacing at best. “You think you can take it from here? You couldn’t even take care of her when she was yours.”

“Was?”

I knew that Chad thought that he was above a guy like me, someone who was using their physical strength and skill to progress in their future versus someone who was using their prestigious last name and Daddy’s money, but I wasn’t as stupid as he thought I was.

“Yes, was. She isn’t yours anymore. Trust me.”

His grin pissed me off, and if I was the type of guy who couldn’t control his emotions, I might have actually wound my fist back and punched him, despite the security guard getting closer to us.

“She hasn’t told you.” Chad threw his head back and laughed. “She’s still mine, Wolf. But it’s pretty typical of Claire not to tell you. She has a hard time relying on anyone but herself. Why do you think she was nearly killing herself onstage? She and her mother need the money so she doesn’t have to rely on me.”

What? 

“Chad!” Taytum’s hands landed on his chest, and she pushed him back. He went willingly, winking at me as he backed away to the doors.

“Enjoy her while you have her.”

What the fuck does that mean? 

My heart was pounding, and my blood was rushing like Niagara Falls, but everything faded when the door to the ER opened, and a doctor popped his head out, looking for the family of Claire Bryant. I spun around and walked ahead of Taytum as she was pushing Chad out the doors with the security guard creeping toward them.

“I’m her brother,” I lied. “How is she?”

The doctor’s brows furrowed, and he looked over at the receptionist behind the glass window who had told me I couldn’t go back with Claire just hours prior. She looked at me, then to Chad and to Taytum, obviously aware of the whole conversation. To my surprise, she nodded at the doctor, and he shrugged, ushering me to follow him.

I mouthed a thank-you to the receptionist, and the old lady winked at me. I followed the white coat and listened intently as he told me that Claire’s CT came back okay but that it was confirmed that she had a concussion, and he wanted to keep her a little longer to make sure the dizziness subsided and she didn’t get worse.

I nodded before he pointed to her room. “She’s a little woozy but is awake. You can go on in.”

I sidestepped him, pulled the curtain aside, and watched as she breathed in and out of her mouth with her eyes closed.

“Hey, you,” I said, stepping farther into the room. Claire sat up quickly and immediately winced before lying back onto the pillow. “Whoa, take it easy, Bryant.”

“Theo.” Her brows furrowed, and I noticed that she had taken her hair out of her bun at some point. I watched from across the room as her shoulders dropped in disappointment. “I can’t believe I fell.”

“We all fall sometimes,” I said, absolutely aware that there was a double meaning behind my words.

“I’ve never seen you fall,” she countered, blowing a breath out of her mouth again.

“On the ice? All the time.” I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a little. I sat down on the edge of her bed, careful not to put too much pressure on it. I lifted my hair up and showed her the tiny scar on the very top of my forehead. “Four stitches. And you’ve been to my games. You know I fall.”

The softest laugh left her, but she quickly stopped and dropped her jaw. “Oh my God. What are you doing here?”

I pulled back. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“You have a game, Theo! What time is it?”

“Hey.” I stood up, hovered over her, and pushed her back onto her pillow. “Rest.”

“Theo, what are you doing here?!” She lay back, but panic still backed every one of her words.

Without even meaning to, I crowded her space and stared down into her eyes. “I’m here to make sure you’re okay. Game or no game, I wasn’t leaving until I knew.”

The color was back on her face, and the satisfaction it gave me was indescribable. Now I could play with a steady head. “Well, I’m fine! Go to your game right now, Theo Brooks! Whatever happened to ‘hockey is the most important thing in your life’?”

She seemed exasperated, and it was kind of cute how stressed out she was, but before I caused any more unnecessary stress for her, I leaned down and kissed her forehead before whispering, “It’s important, but I’m beginning to realize it may not be the most important thing anymore.”

Because after all, what was a future without her in it?