Fake Dating My Ex's Hockey Star Brother (Maya Scott) novel Chapter 4

KATY’S POV

“What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads.

“I said that—”

“Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?”

I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.”

He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.”

The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip.

I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this.

I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.”

“Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.”

I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.”

“Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?”

“You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.”

His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he c***s an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?”

The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.”

That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.”

“It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.”

I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me.

“Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him.

Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his s**t.

“You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine.

I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.”

His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?”

“It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly.

A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.”

I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?”

“No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had s*x plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.”

He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact.

“We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.”

The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part.

I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.”

He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.”

He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me.

Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.”

I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way?

“See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.”

I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses.

“Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.”