Fake Dating My Ex's Hockey Star Brother (Maya Scott) novel Chapter 141

ALLISON’S POV

“Sean, you’re not even listening.” I groan.

“I am.”

Liar.

His eyes stay glued to his screen, thumbs moving like his life depends on it. He hasn’t looked at me once in the last ten minutes, not a glance or a blink in my direction. I exhale and cross my arms over my chest.

Do I really have to fight for attention on our anniversary getaway?

This whole week is supposed to be about us having fun and sex in places we’ll later pretend never happened. Instead, he’s been texting his boys and playing his stupid game more than usual. It’s always that cursed group chat…that damn game.

What is so fun in there that beats having your very real, very bored girlfriend sitting right beside you?

I inch closer and lean against his arm. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve got to beat this level,” he mutters, his eyes still refusing to acknowledge my existence.

Wow. I came all the way here to be third wheel to a phone.

I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

I’m just about ready to give up when it hits me that I haven’t used my last trick yet.

And it always works.

Slowly, I take off my dress and toss it aside. Then I slide off my panties and flick them straight at his face.

Bullseye.

He finally looks up just as I spread my legs, and his mouth curves into a stupid grin I know way too well. His phone drops onto the bed like it never mattered in the first place, and I smile to myself.

Got you.

He crawls toward me, settling between my legs, his eyes dragging over me before lifting to my face. “You get me hard so easily.”

“Do I?” I pull him in for a kiss, then stop. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

His fingers slide down my stomach. “I’m not anymore.”

I smirk. “I like it when you want me.”

He takes my hand, kisses it, then grips my jaw, pressing himself against me. “Baby, I was thinking about something the other day.”

I c**k an eyebrow. “What?”

He hesitates, and that alone makes me narrow my eyes because Sean only hesitates when he’s about to say something stupid.

“Why don’t we spice things up between us?” he says.

I grin, already relaxed again. “I like the sound of that. You know I’m game.”

He hums, dragging the sound out while his thumb traces my hip. “What if we tried… a.nal?”

My smile evaporates. “What?”

“Anal,” he repeats.

Surely, he did not just say that.

I stare at him, waiting for the laugh, for the moment he admits he’s messing with me.

Instead, he seems to be waiting for my answer.

He looks away.

“I’m always the one on my knees, giving you what you want every single time, and you haven’t even returned the favor once. Just once, Sean.”

“I told you it’s not my thing.” He retorts.

“Exactly.” I point at him. “You get to have a not my thing, but I don’t?”

He bobs his head. “So that’s what this is about?”

I rake my fingers through my hair and lean back against the wall, trying not to explode. I can’t tell if he’s genuinely this dense or if he’s doing this on purpose, but either way, it’s working. I’m pissed. Like, seeing red pissed.

“You know what,” I finally say, “I don’t even want to talk about this anymore. If you think I’m being difficult because I won’t let you shove your dick in my a.ss, then fine. I’ll be difficult.” I shrug. “I’m not trading my comfort or my health just so you can feel better about yourself.”

His face hardens. “If you actually gave me a chance to explain, you’d know there are literally minimal health risks.”

I stare at him.

“Josh and Kristy do it all the time,” he snaps. “God forbid I suggest it to my own girlfriend. You always act like you know everything, and then you drag up old shit when you want to justify being difficult with me.”

Oh. Wow. So now I’m the problem and the historian.

I bite the inside of my lip, looking away because I can’t even let tears start because of this stupid argument. He’s said worse before, but calling me difficult over this? I can’t even believe it.

“I’m going back to campus tomorrow,” I tell him. “I’m done with this trip.”

“Fine,” he shrugs. “Go back.”

And then he turns back to his phone.

As I watch him tune into his game, an agonizing feeling spreads in my chest. I don’t know what it is, but it’s been there, growing over the year with him.