Fake Dating My Ex's Hockey Star Brother (Maya Scott) novel Chapter 273

Epilogue 8

ALLISON’S POV

“Evans cannot be stopped. He is on fire!” the commentator roars above the noise. “The captain is

determined to get the team to the playoffs.”

And that’s exactly what I hope for.

I’m standing close enough to the glass that my breath fogs it every time I exhale and I’ve been

exhaling like a hundred times in the last ten minutes alone.

The arena is loud, and I’ve been to enough of Justin’s games that I should be used to it by now. But

tonight is different.

The Bruins haven’t had a good season. Montreal took the first qualifying spot two weeks ago. Maple Leaf locked up second shortly after, and Panthers clinched third last Tuesday. Which leaves

Justin fighting for a wildcard spot and as captain, in his first season, it feels like he doesn’t really

have the option to fail.

With another sigh as the Rangers’ captain takes the puck, I press my fingers against the glass. I

really can’t stand here in his jacket and cheer all night just for him to lose.

On the ice, Justin is everywhere. That’s the only way I can describe it, and soon the puck is back in

their hands.

“Come on,” I mutter under my breath. “Come on… come on-”

The puck moves too fast for me to follow cleanly, and then there’s a scramble in front of the net-

bodies colliding, sticks clashing. Justin comes out of it with just enough space, a half-second of

open ice, and he takes the shot.

The red light goes on and the arena breaks open in noise.

“YES!” I shout before I can stop myself, realizing too late that my reactions to Justin’s games are

usually online before I even get home. But honestly, I don’t care.

The cheers are still rolling through the arena when Justin breaks away from the pile of his

teammates, and I already know where he’s skating before he even turns-toward me.

He slows to a stop right in front of the glass, chest rising and falling hard, his grin beautiful.

He points at me. Then, with his glove, he draws a heart on the glass.

In response, I press both hands to my cheeks, laughing, and blow him two kisses. He catches them and presses his fist to his chest before his teammates start dragging him away.

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He skates backwards for a few seconds, still grinning at me, until he has to turn and rejoin the rush of players.

I shake my head, chuckling under my breath when the commentator’s voice cuts through the noise again.

“And there it is, folks…Evans’ signature post-goal ritual. We’ve seen it all season,” he says. “But I’ll tell you something. You want to know when the captain is truly unstoppable? Check who’s sitting in the stands. Maybe, just maybe, when his wife is watching, the man simply cannot miss.”

That sets me off again. I shake my head, pressing my lips together, but there’s nothing to be done about my smile.

Then the Jumbotron finds me and my face appears on the screen almost immediately.

The crowd’s energy intensifies, their roar swelling from a different direction and I look up.

They lose it.

I wave, because what else do you do, and that makes them louder.

“For anyone who didn’t know,” the commentator says, clearly delighted, “Evans is married to none other than Samantha Ridge herself. Yes, that Samantha, from one of the most-watched shows on TV.”

Laughter ripples through the arena and I duck my head, grinning.

“Now the real question, where are the boys tonight? My guess? Bedtime came early,” he continues.

Iglance back up at the Jumbotron, still focused on me, and I nod, pressing my palms together and tilting them against my cheek in a small, exaggerated sleeping gesture.

The crowd claps and laughs again.

It’s still unreal how much recognition follows me everywhere I go. Most people don’t even know my real name and half the time, it’s just Samantha Ridge. Even after the series wrapped with three seasons, fans still show up like I never left it behind.

I smile, shaking my head slowly as the screen finally moves away, the noise of the arena settling back into its steady hum as the game resumes.

**

Justin pushes me against the wall, kissing me so hard, his tongue pushing into my mouth. My fingers curl into his shirt, until I pull back just enough to breathe and laugh at myself for needing to.

“Wait-” I press a hand to his chest. “Aren’t you tired? You just played a whole game tonight.”

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He grins down at me, his eyes bright with the post-win energy I know so well. “Nah. I showered.”

His hands settle on my waist. “If anything I’m more pumped up now.”

Before I can say anything else, he leans down and starts kissing my neck. It tickles and feels good at the same time, and I can’t help giggling. I know he’s extra horny tonight because they won. He

always gets like this after a big win.

Suddenly he stops, his big hands grabbing my ass and pulling me tight against him and I can feel how hard he is already.

“I want you to do that trick again,” he says.

I blink up at him, playing dumb while my fingers trace over his chest. “What trick?”

He groans. “You know… that thing you do with your tongue. It felt so fucking good last time.”

Heat crawls up my neck. I smirk and slide my hand down, grabbing his c**k through his shorts. “I do know of a trick.” I squeeze gently and rub him slowly. “Was that why you came so fast last time? Because it felt too good?”

He nods, letting out a shaky groan as I keep rubbing him and his hips push into my hand.

I bite my lip and slowly, I sink down to my knees in front of him, looking up as I pull his shorts down. His c**k springs out, and I wrap my fingers around it and tease him first, licking just the tip with little flicks of my tongue.

“Shit, baby…” He throws his head back, his fingers digging into my hair.

smile and do it again, licking slow and messy, running my tongue right under the tip where I know he’s sensitive. Then I take just the head into my mouth, sucking lightly while my tongue keeps

moving. I can feel his thighs tensing and his grip tightening in my hair.

“Fuck, just like that…” he groans, fingers digging into my scalp.

Taking him deeper, I slide my lips down his shaft, then pull back and swirl my tongue again, doing the little trick he loves so much. The moan he lets out is loud and needy, and it turns me on even

more.

I keep going, sucking him with wet, sloppy sounds, alternating between deep and teasing the head with my tongue. Every time he groans or his hips jerk, I feel a rush of heat between my legs.

“You like my trick?” I pull back for a second, teasing him. With a groan, he shoves me back,

thrusting his c**k in my mouth and then I suck him back in, hollowing my cheeks and working my tongue nonstop.

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