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

“No partying until after tomorrow night or—” I checked out of the conversation as soon as the threats began spewing from Coach’s mouth, because I knew they weren’t directed toward me. Did I like to party? Sometimes. Did I get shit-faced drunk and jeopardize my future? Absolutely not.

Pulling my phone out of my bag, I glanced at my texts, ignoring the one from Jess. She was the only girl I frequented, and the reason for that was because she knew I was never looking for anything more. Every once in a while, though, she’d try to ask to hang out, and she wouldn’t add the winky-face emoji, which meant that she actually wanted to spend time together. She knew that wasn’t on my agenda—ever. Yet, she still tried. Probably need to cut ties with that one. 

Mom: Make sure to get an adequate amount of sleep tonight, Theodore. And eat a good breakfast. 

I texted my mom back as Coach was stirring up Aasher over his whereabouts last season.

“You just can’t let it go, Coach. I said sorry.”

“She’s my daughter, Aasher.”

I flicked my eyes up for a moment after texting my mom. Aasher’s face was red, and it wasn’t from embarrassment. “I didn’t know she was your daughter.”

“And you all expect me to believe you didn’t know,” Coach muttered.

“I didn’t even touch her. All I said was hi.”

“Yeah, well your version of ‘hi’ always turns into something else. So don’t even look at her tomorrow night.”

I suppressed a laugh before turning back to my phone and rolling my eyes at my older brother’s text.

Carl: How are those puck bunnies treatin’ ya? 

I smirked.

Me: How’s dad life treatin’ ya? Give my favorite niece a hug from Uncle Theo.

Carl wasn’t technically my brother, but I called him as such and considered him as such too. No one knew the dynamics of my family or upbringing except Aasher—not even Coach. It wasn’t really anyone’s business, and the last thing I needed was for the news outlets to unbury my family history and see that my parents weren’t my biological parents and open up old wounds that I wasn’t sure they had healed from.

“You ready?” Aasher nudged my shoulder. I glanced up and saw everyone leaving the locker room, and Coach was back in his office with his door shut.

“Yeah,” I answered, slinging my bag over my shoulder before clicking my phone off. Aasher and I walked in silence through the locker room, and I was already getting in my usual vibe before a game—which was shut-down mode. My thoughts cleared, and I thought of nothing but hockey.

When Aasher and I were farther from the locker room and began walking in the chilly evening air, he immediately scoffed. “I have no idea why Coach keeps yelling at me about his daughter or preaching to the team not to touch her.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “He’s just being a dad, bro.”

“Could you imagine if any of us fucked her? He’d probably kick me off the team.”

We approached my car. “You’re too good for him to do that, and he knows it. Plus, that girl is definitely a virgin.”

He shot me a look before flipping his hair off his forehead. “What do you think he cares about more? His daughter’s V-card or the game?”

I paused. He had a point.

“What’s this?”

My eyebrows raised. “What’s what?”

Aasher rounded the front of my car and pulled something off my windshield.

“Is that a fucking parking ticket?” I asked, instantly irritated. I glanced around and made sure there wasn’t a sign that said no parking.

Aasher began laughing hysterically, so I snatched the paper out of his hand, ready to walk over to the dean to make him deal with it but stopped as I caught the neat and whimsical handwriting on a torn piece of paper that had The Bex’s logo centered on the bottom edge.

Roommate Rules

Use a fucking quieter alarm. It wakes me up each morning, and I don’t have the luxury of going to bed at 9pm like a grandpa.

No more fucking girls in our room.

Or sexual favors. Go do it in your car. Or the locker room. Or in the hallway. I don’t care. But not near my stuff. 

If you’re going to listen to trashy music, use your AirPods. 

Don’t come on my side of the room. 

Is she fucking kidding?

I blinked several times after reading the rules. Half of me wanted to laugh, and the other half of me wanted to rip up the piece of paper with her pretty handwriting on it and scatter it all over her bed.

But instead, I folded the piece of paper nicely as Aasher stood with his back against my car with a shit-eating grin, waiting to see my reaction. When we caught eyes, I shook my head and smirked.

“That look is never good,” he chuckled as he pushed off my car. “What do you have planned?”

I ran my tongue over my teeth. “She can have her rules.”

Opening my car door, I laughed. Aasher adjusted his bag over his shoulder. “That’s not the Theo I know.”

I turned around and laughed. “You know what they say about rules, Aash.”

He looked leery. “They’re meant to be broken?”

“There’s a loophole in every single one.”

He paused, looking deep in thought, and began nodding on his way over to his car. “There sure is, Wolf. Have fun with your rules.”

My car came to life, and I smiled the entire way to The Bex, where I knew Claire would be.

The Bex’s atmosphere was quiet during the day and lively at night, even on a Thursday. Irritation pinched the back of my neck the second I walked inside, knowing that I should have been back in my room, continuing to get in the mindset for tomorrow’s game, just as I caught Claire rounding the bar. I smiled, preparing myself for a totally different game.

She was very difficult to read, and that was saying something because I lived with her. There was a soft liveliness that hung around her movements, but there was an edge to her voice at times, too. I usually heard it when she was talking to her boyfriend late at night, when she thought I was asleep. She seemed to linger right in the middle of sweet and edgy. One second, she was gentle, and the next, she was tough. Even watching her now…she handed some drinks off to a table of two, smiling cheerfully, but then the moment she turned around to head back to the bar, her shoulders dropped, and she let out a hefty breath.

I moved a little farther into the restaurant, knowing I wouldn’t stay hidden for long. Claire’s boss, the one who had a son that was coming to tomorrow’s game, went over and gave her a little squeeze. Claire’s dull eyes had a little spark go back into them, and she seemed to put on a brave face, nodding her head. I read her lips as she answered whatever her boss had asked. “I’m good. I’m just tired.”

That made sense. She went to bed late, and I woke her up early…by accident. A nagging thought tried to sneak in that told me it absolutely wasn’t by accident, but I pushed it aside as I sought out an empty table, preferably somewhere in the back where I could hide out until her shift was over.

“Hey, Wolf.” Well, that lasted three seconds. 

I cleared my throat as I pulled my beanie off my head. “Hey, man.” I nodded at a group of football players who were sharing a pizza. I casually walked over to their table and sat down for a second, keeping my eye on Claire. We needed to have a little meeting that I wasn’t going to let her escape from. The piece of paper crinkled as I pulled it out of my hoodie pocket, keeping it in my grasp until she looked my way.

“Want a slice?” I wasn’t going to pretend like I knew all the football players’ names, but I did know the ones who were often beside mine in the school paper. This guy, though? Wasn’t sure of his name.

“Nah.” Shaking my head, I sat back a little further in my chair. “I don’t prefer to eat something full of grease the night before a game.”

“Ah, that’s right.” Rush, the star player of Bexley U’s football team, slapped me on the back. “Your first game is tomorrow night. We should go.” He looked at his group of friends, and in between chews, they nodded.

“When’s your first game?” I asked, having no fucking clue when they played. I enjoyed watching football, and I had played it when I was younger, but it didn’t fill me like hockey did.

“Next Saturday. Our schedule is fucked this year. It’s going to be tough.”

“Same, bro.” I glanced back over to the bar and saw Claire standing back, shifting her light-blue eyes from table to table. My chest stuttered with excitement as she landed on our table, running her gaze over each drink and the pizza in the middle. I sat up a little straighter and put my hands on the table with the piece of paper tucked in between my fingers. Her head tilted to the left as her brows dipped slightly, and when she landed on me, those heartbreaker eyes widened, and her cheeks instantly turned pink.

I raised an eyebrow when our gazes crashed, and she quickly turned around, hiding. Don’t back down now, roomie.

“You know her?” Beck, the best-of-the-best linebacker, took a swig of his beer. “I’ve been eyeing her since last year, but I never see her at any of the parties, so I haven’t approached her.”

“She’s taken.” I paused at the sound of the irritability in my tone.

“By you?” Every football player stopped eating and stared at me.

Brushing off my testiness, I chuckled. “No. I just know she has a boyfriend. She’s actually my roommate.”

“What? Your roommate? You two live together?”

“Oh, shit. I thought that was a rumor.” There was a loud laugh and a slap on the table. I glanced at the guy wearing a Bexley U football shirt with his hat on backward as he filled in the rest of his teammates on what was like crack to the rumor mill of this school. His sentence faded as Claire slowly approached the table, keeping her stare far from mine.

She commanded attention as she stood at the foot of the slightly wobbly table with her hands on her hips. “How are we doing over here? Do you want another round of beer? Or if you’re finished, I can bring the check?”

I didn’t let anyone answer as I spread my legs out wide under the table and held the piece of paper in between us. “Hey, Bryant. Care to have a chat about this?”

Her little jaw ticked as she flicked her attention to the piece of paper. “Not really. What is there to chat about?”

Silence stretched around the table and possibly throughout the entire restaurant.

“Plenty.”

She pulled her attention from mine and put it on the rest of the guys at the table. “Do you guys want the check?”

Rush cleared his throat from beside me and said, “Sure.” Claire forced a small smile onto her lips, and the bun on top of her head bounced as she tried to turn around, but my hand quickly shot out, and I slipped my finger in her belt loop, causing her to fling backward.

A little growl left her as she spun around and glared as she peered down at me. “I’m not discussing this while I’m in the middle of work, Theo. I know you’re used to people catering to you, but I’m not one of them.”

Someone let out a low whistle, and I laughed at her confidence. There it is. The tough side of her.

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

Defeat covered her features, and she sighed. “I don’t get off until ten. Isn’t that past your bedtime, Gramps?”

Her attempt at wounding me made me laugh again. I knew we were attracting attention—something I really wasn’t looking for tonight—but I couldn’t seem to help myself. “Like I said, I’ll wait.” I winked at her, and her nose crinkled at the sight. She huffed as she spun around and walked away, swaying her hips for every guy to salivate over.

The silence broke at the table when every football player laughed out loud. “That was entertaining.”

And it’s about to get even more entertaining.