Fake Dating My Ex's Hockey Star Brother (Maya Scott) novel Chapter 157

ALLISON’S POV

There is a full military operation happening inside my skull. That’s the only explanation for the pounding, the pressure, and the way it feels like my head might split open any second. I groan and roll onto my side, reaching blindly for my plushie out of habit but….nothing.

My brows knit. Where is Miu Miu?

I force my eyes open, squinting against the dull ache behind them, and freeze. A hockey wall art stares back at me.

I blink once, then again. What the hell?

Since when do I own something like this?

I jolt upright, my head throbbing as the blanket slides down my body, and a sharp gasp escapes me.

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

I clutch the blanket to my chest, my heart hammering violently as my eyes dart around the room, only to be assaulted by hockey everywhere I look-on the walls, on the desk, even the ceiling.

This isn’t my room.

And I’m naked. Like completely naked.

My hand flies to my mouth as the truth crashes into me all at once, my eyes widening in horror.

I slept with Justin last night. Not once, not twice either.

There are at least three empty condom wrappers scattered on the floor. My clothes are folded neatly on his desk and the shirt and pants he lent me are crumpled in a heap beside the bed.

I let out a small chuckle. Maybe this is just a bad dream I need to wake up from. I squeeze my eyes shut and lightly slap my cheeks, hoping that when I open them, I’ll be back in my own bed, hugging Miu Miu.

I open them again.

The fucking hockey stickers are still staring back at me.

“O…my God.” That’s all I manage to choke out. A wave of nausea coils in my stomach, and just when I think it can’t get worse, memories of last night slam into me

“You feel so good, Allison.” Justin’s voice flashes in my mind and I freeze, my stomach clenching.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

“I can’t get enough of you.”

“You’re killing me, baby.”

His moans as he came for the second time echoes, followed by the image of him staring up at me while I was on top.

I don’t even notice when my hand smacks against my forehead. Allison, you’re so doomed.

And of course, the memories don’t stop there.

“I don’t usually lose control like this.” My own words buzz in my head, and the truth is that last night, I did.

I fu.cked him like I haven’t felt a good d**k in years, which… might be true. And if that isn’t bad enough, I keep remembering how I praised him over and over for how magical he felt. Why the hell did I let this happen?

Oh God. I’m going to die. I actually have to die. That’s the only way I’m getting over this.

With a groan, I scramble off the bed, and rush to the desk where my clothes are folded. I need to get out of this apartment without running into Justin. Maybe grow a pair of wings and fly out the window…anything but face him.

A clatter from the kitchen tells me he’s making breakfast. Perfect. That means I can run past him.

My panties are halfway up my thighs when I hear footsteps. Panic hits instantly. I yank them on, fingers clumsy, heart racing, but before I can reach for my jeans, the door opens.

Justin freezes mid-step and so do I.

For a second, we just stare at each other-me standing there half-dressed, him holding two plates like he’s walked into the wrong apartment. My mind blanks, my pulse loud in my ears.

My gaze betrays me, sliding from the plates to his arms, which look unfairly good and heat floods my face.

“I made breakfast,” he finally says, taking a step closer.

I flinch and shove my hands out in front of me.

“Stay back.”

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“Stay back,” I repeat, my voice higher this time, like he’s contagious or something. Maybe he is because I tend to lose control around him.

I wasn’t drunk last night. I wasn’t slurring my words and I knew exactly what I was doing…. at least, to some extent.

“You must be hungover,” he says, taking a step closer. “Stay for breakfast.”

Why is he acting like this?

“I’m not staying,” I mutter, tugging on my jeans and frantically searching for anything of mine in his room.

“Because we fu.cked last night?”

I gasp, staggering back. Maybe it’s the way he’s staring at me like he’s carved out of stone, or maybe it’s just his choice of words but I flare up.

“Listen, Justin, I’d like to keep what happened last night a secret between us. Okay?”

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