Fake Dating My Ex's Hockey Star Brother (Maya Scott) novel Chapter 82

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KATY’S POV

I’m dressed an hour early for debate practice because lying on my bed isn’t cutting it anymore. I actually have to function, have to claw my way back to who I used to be. Yeah, the girl who cared about a lot of things. The girl who wasn’t this… indifferent.

Deep down, I also know why this is happening. There’s a tiny voice that keeps trying to whisper the truth, but I keep shutting it out.

I’m not ready to admit that I’m drifting through some heartbreak phase over a guy I never even dated. Which is embarrassing.

I reach the ground floor and pause to check my bun, smoothing it better. Then I step outside, scanning the lot for the campus cab I ordered but there’s sign of him yet.

I pull out my phone to check how far he is, and right then a message pops up in the debate group chat.

Lucy: Debate’s cancelled. I have a dramatic cold.

A sigh rips out of me before I can stop it, and for a second I honestly consider yanking my bun out of my head. Seriously? All that effort to drag myself out of my room, look presentable, pretend I’m emotionally stable and now it’s cancelled?

And the worst part? I now owe campus cab five dollars for backing out at the last minute.

Jaw tight, I cancel the ride and watch the charge hit my account. I turn to head back inside, already mentally climbing back into bed, when-

“Katy.”

I freeze, my eyes twitching because I know that voice. Clearly, today wants to keep going downhill.

I turn around, and yep, Bryan.

To make matters worse, he’s with a massive bouquet that looks like it swallowed his upper body whole and there’s also bags dangling from his hands. I can barely see his face behind the flowers, but from the little bit of jawline showing, he’s wearing what must be his attempt at a charming smile.

“How are you?” he asks.

First of all….eww.

Second of all, do men genuinely not understand what it means when a woman is done? Are they genetically wired to be dense, egotistical, or just… unbearably obnoxious?

I want to walk away so badly. But I know how this goes. He’ll follow me, call my name, and we’ll end up in another pointless back-and-forth. It’s the same cycle every time, and I’m exhausted.

“I’m assuming the bouquet is for me.” I rest a hand on my hip. “Why?”

“You look…” His eyes soften in that infuriating way. “I’ve missed your smile.”

I exhale.

Here’s the thing about Bryan and me: we are always standing on opposite sides of any conversation he forces himself into. I want distance; he wants closeness. It’s the worst, most suffocating dynamic.

“I told you to stop trying,” I say, my voice flat and honestly tired. “It’s too late.”

He steps closer, close enough that I have to tilt my chin up.

“I know,” he says softly. “I know it’s too late to rekindle what we had. But… we can start fresh.”

I raise an eyebrow but he takes it as encouragement to continue.

“Let’s pretend we’re strangers getting to know each other again,” he explains. “Katy, I’ve changed. I swear. I want to love you better. The way you deserve.”

I just stare at him, because what?

This is the same man who told me I’d never find anyone like him when we broke up. The same words that bruised my ego for weeks. I had to rebuild myself from that, piece by piece, convincing myself it was just cruelty, not truth.