Fake Dating My Ex's Hockey Star Brother (Maya Scott) novel Chapter 83

KATY’S POV

“Hello, brother.”

Braydon’s voice is so cold it actually gives me chills. His jaw is ticking like he’s one second away from snapping, and yeah, I’ve seen him mad before, but not this kind of mad. This is… low-key terrifying.

“Say something,” he pushes when Bryan stays quiet. And honestly? Bryan looks scared which is wild because he tried to act confident just seconds ago.

I have no idea what’s happening but these two are basically the same to me so maybe I should excuse myself. They can hate each other, tackle each other, or even break each other’s ribs but they should leave me out of it.

So I turn around and walk off, my heart doing sprints for absolutely no reason. I don’t look back until I’m in my room with the door shut.

I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm down even though I know this isn’t about fear. My heart only acts like this when I see him.

Why does one glimpse of his stupidly perfect face send my emotions into a meltdown? Why does Braydon make me feel things I have zero interest in feeling? And I know the answer. God damn it, I know it.

I just really, really need it to stop.

I’m about to sit on my bed when a knock stops me mid-motion. I tilt my head toward the door, already knowing it’s either Bryan or Braydon, whoever won whatever testosterone-fueled showdown just happened. Well, good for them. They can stay outside and leave me alone.

I flop back onto my bed with a dramatic sigh. How did I end up tangled in the mess of brothers who are… honestly feral? Like, actual wild animals in human form. I must be blessed. So lucky. Yay me.

I close my eyes to decompress, but the knocking doesn’t stop. If anything, it gets louder and more insistent.

Yeah. That’s Braydon.

Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. I can practically feel his personality seeping through the door. If he thinks I’m going to open up, he’s in for a plot twist.

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to zone out, but the knocking keeps drilling into my soul. So I reach for my AirPods, pop them in, and blast music loud enough to drown out everything.

About thirty minutes later, I must’ve drifted off or something, because the next thing I feel is this weird heaviness like someone’s hovering just outside my door. I blink awake, lazily glance over…

And I nearly roll off my bed.

Braydon is inside my room. As in, not at the door. Inside.

For a solid two seconds, I just stare with my eyes wide, brain buffering, and trying to figure out if I’m dreaming or if he actually came in.

Then I notice Allie behind him. Her face screams I know this is bad, please don’t kill me. And that’s when the shock in my chest snap-transforms into a hot, sharp anger.

She knows better. They both know better.

My jaw clenches, my breath catching because the audacity is insane. My voice doesn’t even come out because I’m too stunned to form basic language.

“Before you say anything,” Allie blurts, her hands raised like she’s talking down a wild animal, “I think you should hear him out.”

Yeah. No. Now the anger is definitely winning.

I grab my phone and start scrolling for the dorm security number, because I’m absolutely getting him kicked out and maybe Allie too if possible. But before I can even tap the digits, the phone is snatched right out of my hand.

I shoot to my feet, heart pounding, and fury lighting up every nerve. Braydon stands in front of me completely unfazed, and casually switches my phone off like it’s his.

“Give that back.” My voice shakes with rage. “Oh, you’ve crossed far too many lines.”

He doesn’t even pretend to care. I reach for the phone, but he simply lifts it above his head, way above my reach and tilts his head like he’s daring me to jump for it.

“You’re a pie-”

“Yeah, I’m a piece of shit,” he cuts in smoothly. “Now let’s talk about why I’m a piece of shit.”

I open my mouth, ready to fire back, but nothing comes out. Because when a guy stands in front of you with that much confidence, saying things he absolutely shouldn’t be saying, it short-circuits your entire vocabulary.

Slowly, he walks to the door, and he shuts it right in Allie’s face.

He turns back toward me, and my throat goes dry. I know I should speak, should say literally anything, but I also know my voice would come out weak and embarrassing, and I refuse to give him that satisfaction.

“Sit.” He gestures once he stops in front of me.

Is he seriously telling me to sit on my own bed? The audacity, the disrespect, the nerve.

And yet… I sit.

Yeah. Shame? Don’t know her.

He settles beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, then angles his body toward mine. It hits me how long it’s been since we’ve been this close. Maybe only a few days but it feels like weeks.

And I hate it. I hate that I’ve missed him. I hate that he gets under my skin so easily. I hate that he makes me forget every principle I swore I had.

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