My "Broke" Fake Boyfriend Is A Secret Hockey God

ETT'

king brick apartment building. I followed her out into th

oats, I caught a faint, sweet scent clinging to her-like rich dark chocolate an

all but undeniably cozy. A soft, overstuffed sofa dominated the li

t of. There were no priceless artifacts or cold marble floors here. Instead

" she said, pointing to a door down the short hallway.

over her chest, but her inherent kindness clearly wouldn'

slowly uncoiling the tight, angry knots in my muscles. I wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at my re

pajamas and a new pair of boxers were

, avoiding my eyes. "He stays over sometimes when

As a guy who spent half his life checking people into the hockey boards, my frame was entirely too large for the clothes. The plaid pa

dining table, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. She looked up, t

een her smile, and it compl

ibly inviting. Even though the edges were red and slightly swollen from whatever had made he

iliar flutter kicked up behind my ri

my discarded pants pocket. I p

accounts frozen, even the e

ted the conversation entirely. I didn't want my fath

saw Harper watch

e asked, her

eplied, slippin

anding me a steaming mug. "Drin

inst hers. Her skin was incredibly warm. She snatched her hand back

low, genuine smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, and for some reason, the

she said, pointing down the hall, still ref

, Harper,"

d alone in the quiet living room, sipping the sweet cocoa, thinking about the f

tentially my career. But standing in this tin

my life, being trapp