Fake Dating My Ex's Hockey Star Brother (Maya Scott) novel Chapter 172

ALLISON’S POV

The second Katy and I walk into 24:11, I regret nothing about the brattiest dress I own.

Men are painfully predictable so I’m not shocked to see heads turn, eyes lingering too long, and intentions written all over their faces as they undress us without even trying to be subtle.

Whatever. Let them look.

The real problem is the heat. It’s super hot in here and of course I only realize I need to pee when we’re already halfway inside the place. Perfect timing. Katy’s struggling too and I can feel it in the way she presses closer to me, her steps slowing like she might crumble before we even spot Braydon or Justin.

She’s probably already wondering why she agreed to come and I should feel the same.

But I don’t.

While she’s fighting the noise and the crowd, I’m busy plotting. Because somewhere in this bar is Justin Evans, and tonight? I’m not here to have fun.

As we push through the crowd of sweaty, overexcited athletes, it’s like a spotlight lands on us and exactly the way I want it. I need Justin to see me coming from a mile away. I want him to watch these guys drool over me, and know that he has no control over me, no say in who gets to be near.

We move closer to the corner where the video was taken, and with every step, my anger simmers hotter, my eyes scanning the place.

Then Luke calls out for Justin because of Katy, and feel my temper spike. Can’t he just mind his own business for once?

When I finally force my gaze to him, Justin’s eyes lock on us and he doesn’t break eye contact for several seconds before I look away. I see him jump to his feet from the corner of my eye, striding toward us, and I make a show of pretending not to notice.

He stops right in front of us, and I feel his gaze sweep over Katy first, then snap to me. His jaw tightens.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he demands.

The nerve. The absolute audacity of this guy.

“Same thing you’re probably doing here,” Katy fires back before I can, and the satisfaction hits instantly. “I’m here to-”

Braydon slides in beside Justin, his dark eyes doing an unapologetic sweep of both of us like this is some kind of show he didn’t know he’d bought tickets for.

Nope, I’m done.

I hook my fingers around Katy’s arm and drag her toward the bar before either of them can say another word. A few steps away, I glance back and ift my middle finger, holding it there just long enough. My gaze stays locked on Justin the entire time so there’s no confusion that the finger is mostly for him.

His face tightens, irritation flashing across it, and it still isn’t enough. Not even close. I want more than annoyed, I want regret. Something dramatic, something painful. Maybe kicking him in the balls would finally do it.

At the counter, I order Katy something soft and ask for just water for myself. The bartender shoots me a look like I’m speaking a foreign language because apparently, no one comes here to hydrate.

Katy tries to glance at them again, but I squeeze her arm. “Relax, we are not here for attention… even if we kinda are. Doesn’t mean we have to make it obvious.”

The bartender slides my water across the counter and I lift it, taking a sip, when a presence at my side makes me flinch.

A man who looks like he wandered straight out of a bad biker romance novel smirks at me.

“Did I startle you?”

More like a full-on jump scare. And why the hell is he wearing tight leather pants that show he’s packing more cake than me back there?

“No,” I say dryly, staring at the glass in front of me like it’s suddenly fascinating, while my blood simmers. I half-expected Justin to be hovering around me and trying to figure out why I stormed in here, all fire and rage. But no, I get this wannabe rockstar in my face. And that? That just grates on my nerves.

“Is that just water?” Mr. leather pants leans closer, his smirk in place. “Let me buy you a drink.”

I steal a glance at Katy, hoping she’ll rescue me, but she’s deep in conversation with some guy who looks even worse than this one.

Time to wield my cross like a weapon. “I’m not interested,” I say, my tone flat. “Go bug someone else.”

“Bug?” he laughs, leaning in slightly. “I’m just trying to have a little fun with you.”

Okay, I really need to pee. I push off the bar and mutter to Katy that I’ll be right back, but she’s too busy with what her guy is saying to hear me. Fine. I be gone for a minute anyway.

I slip into the crowd, weaving through bodies, when the unmistakable sound of boots follows too closely behind me.

“Hey, hold up,” Mr leather pants calls.

I don’t slow down. If anything, I pick up my pace, my eyes locked on the glowing bathroom sign ahead. “Leave me alone,” I snap over my shoulder. Or I swear I’ll hit you.”

“Bring it…”

The

Someone suddenly wedges himself between Mr Leather Pants and me, moving faster than I can process. My eyes widen before I realize it’s Justin and I scowl. Of course it’s him. Standing there like some hero straight out of a bad action movie, all chest out and jaw set, like he’s saving me or pretending to.

Always. He’s always trying to act like the decent guy while probably cooking up the most twistedintentions in his head. Does he actually think I’ll thank him this time?

I slip into a stall, locking it behind me, and do my business in silence. My hands shake slightly as I wash up, trying to ignore the mounted mirror on the wall. It’s broken like everything inside me feels right now. I also don’t want to look at my reflection, don’t want to see that soulless clone staringback at me.

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