Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player Chapter 130

EMILIA

It takes a solid few minutes to convince Liam that no, I'm not freezing to death, yes, it's all in his head, and finally, the dagger: "What are you, my dad?" That one shuts him up fast. He looks so horrified I almost feel bad — almost. Instead, he sulks about his "misplaced concern" and how I "don't care about his feelings" (still not sure how the two are connected, but okay). Eventually, he gives up the bit and finally leads me toward the backyard.

The bass-heavy music leaking out from the porch is one thing, but actually stepping into Owen's backyard is dizzying. It's a mess of bodies and voices — men I assume are his teammates, women balancing paper plates, a couple kids darting between picnic tables. It feels like walking into a different world, one that's all loud laughter, clinking bottles, and the faint smell of charcoal.

Before I can even process the crowd, a tiny shriek cuts through the noise. "Uncle Liam!"

One of those kids, a tiny girl with black pigtails and sharp green eyes I swear I've seen before, bolts toward us. She's maybe five, maybe six — small enough to still have that soft roundness in her cheeks, but already sprinting like she owns the place.

And Liam — he doesn't hesitate. He drops low, catches her mid-run, and lifts her into the air like she weighs nothing, pretending to stagger back with a dramatic "oof." "How's this possible? You're growing way too quickly," he says, bouncing her against his chest. He pulls a face so exaggeratedly mournful I can't help smiling. "What have you been doing, huh?"

Her chest swells with pride. "Eating my greens and exercising! Remember? You promised if I beat you at arm wrestling when I'm six, you'll take me to Disney World."

"Disneyland," Liam corrects instantly, all mock-serious. "See? "You don't even know the name of the place you want to go. Are you sure you're eating all your greens? Not giving your mom any trouble?"

The little girl giggles so hard she covers her mouth with both hands, shaking her head so dramatically her pigtails whip back and forth. "Nooo trouble!"

And I— God. I'm not sure what stuns me more. The fact that she clearly adores him, or how natural he is with her. His voice softens in a way I haven't heard before, warm and teasing and gentle all at once. His hands are steady, his smile easy. He doesn't think about it — doesn't hesitate, doesn't stumble. He just is.

Something twists in my chest, sharp and unfamiliar. I should probably chalk it up to low blood sugar, or maybe the beer fumes in the air. Anything but the truth — that watching Liam like this does something to me.

"Show me your muscles," Liam orders, suddenly stern, and she flexes her skinny arms with all the seriousness in the world. He gasps like she's the Hulk. "Whoa. Guess I'd better start training extra hard. Can't let you win that arm wrestle."

She squeals and smacks his shoulder. "I'm gonna win! And then— Disney!"

"Disneyland," he insists again, pinching her nose.

She giggles, twisting in his arms. "That's what I said!"

Liam laughs, low and warm, then glances at me — and before I can pretend I wasn't staring like a total idiot, he shifts the little girl slightly and jerks his head in my direction. "Hey, I forgot my manners. This is Emilia. Emilia, meet Kenzie."

Kenzie twists in his arms to look at me, her expression openly curious. "Are you Uncle Liam's girlfriend?"

I nearly choke. Liam grins like the devil and doesn't bail me out. "Well? Emilia?" His eyes dance with mischief as he bounces the girl again. "Should I tell her yes or no?"

The kid's still staring at me, waiting for an answer. And I hate myself a little for how my stomach flips — not at the question, but at how easily Liam just slid me into his world, like I belonged here.

I play along, grinning at this tiny ball of sunshine. "Not anymore, no."

Liam makes a show of gasping, hand on his chest, like I just betrayed him. The little one, though, just nods sagely, curls bouncing. "It's 'cause he won't let you go to Disneyland, right? Unless you arm-wrestle him?" she lowers her voice, conspiratorial. "He did that to me too. But my uncle says it's not nice to complain and that I have to train really, really hard and beat him." She flexes her skinny little arm, all bone and determination. "So I do push-ups every day. Five. Sometimes six."

Liam chuckles and ruffles her hair. "Sounds like Aaron's doing a good job with you."

Finally, the resemblance clicks. I blink. "Wait. Aaron's your uncle, sweetcheeks?"

"Duh!" She beams, like it's the best thing anyone could ever brag about. "He's the best uncle in the whole wide world. He buys me toys, and dresses, and once he let me eat McDonald's twice in one day." Liam and I exchange a look. Questionable. "But Mommy says I need to 'preciate people more, so me and my cousins sold lemonades on the street, and I bought Uncle Aaron a Hello Kitty keychain." She bounces on her toes, proud. "He put it in his car! Right on the thingy by the window. He said it was his favoritest gift ever!"

A blabbermouth, this one. I try to picture Aaron — who Liam never fails to emphasise how quiet and awkward he is — keeping up with her stream of words.

Weird.

"Come on, Kenzie. Quit hogging the guests."

A voice calls from across the yard, and a man I instantly recognize as Aaron — same sharp green eyes as Kenzie, same dark hair, but a lot less sparkle — strolls over. He moves like the ground annoys him, like every step is a chore, but the second his niece wriggles in Liam's arms and squeals "Uncle Aaron!" his whole face shifts. Not into a smile, exactly, but softer. Gentler.

He takes Kenzie with the kind of ease that makes me wonder how often she's glued to him, and she instantly launches into a breathless, one-sided retelling of her "five whole push-ups" again. Aaron just hums at the right beats, lets her chatter bounce off him, eyes flicking to Liam — then, briefly, to me.

The nod he gives is small, almost reluctant, but it's an acknowledgment. Like: Okay. You exist. Liam brought you. That means something.

I feel it more than I should.

Liam doesn't give me time to overthink it. His hand finds mine the second Kenzie's gone, fingers slotting through like it's instinct, his thumb dragging lazy arcs over my knuckles. Casual. Possessive. He's half turned toward his team, but I swear the tug of his body keeps me pinned close like he can't imagine doing otherwise. And God help me, I don't mind.

We don't get much breathing room. A couple of his teammates, already flushed from beer, descend like they've been waiting for their turn.

"Yo, Liam, your girl's way outta your league," Suta, tall and wiry, grins at me like he's doing me a favor.

Another — Wolfe, whose only personality trait seems to be chest hair and volume control — whistles. "True. Look at him, domesticated. Someone take a picture."

I should probably say something biting, but Liam just smirks, squeezes my hand tighter. "Glad you all noticed. Took me a while to convince her."

There's laughter, a few mock groans, but before the teasing can spiral, Liam steers the topic elsewhere. His focus zeroes on Aaron, who's been lurking a half step away, sipping his beer with his usual monosyllabic commitment to socializing.

"You're not going to help Cam out with Tess?" Liam asks Aaron once we're half done being harassed by the rest of his team.

At the sound of Tess, Aaron stiffens. Interesting.

"He texted—" Liam leans in like he's sharing a secret, though his hand never loosens on mine, "—said his car broke down, he's cabbing it. You know how much Tess hates cabs."

"Understatement," I mutter before I can stop myself. "She once got lice from one in college. Months of trauma, let me tell you."

That earns a laugh from one of the defensemen — Jack, if I remember right. "Lice girl? Jesus. That's what she was known for?"

"She was actually known for being pretty, smart, athletic, a total social butterfly and that one time she won our college's Miss Manhattan. And she isn't even from Manhattan," I correct primly, ticking them off on my fingers while fighting a grin. "The lice were just... a subplot."

Liam snorts and immediately tangles his fingers into my hair, absent like he owns the right. "That's true. Everyone thought she was perfect. When she went missing for a week with the lice thing, guys on the team would harass me every day asking when she was coming back. I've always wondered if she found being that popular exhausting."

I don't even need to think about it. "Hell no. Do you know how rich we got every Valentine's Day? We were broke. That attention kept her motivated."

Another teammate — Javis? I think he went to college with us too — groans. "So you're telling me she didn't actually care about me when she accepted my Valentine's gift?" Aaron's jaw ticks, though he doesn't say anything. Liam squeezes my hand, kisses the top of my head. "Kinda forgot how obsessed that Russian is with money."

Suta leans forward over his beer, grinning. "She really that scary? Aaron, you sweating yet?"

So I guess Aaron's feelings for Tess are more or less an open secret.

Aaron ignores him, of course. He hands his beer over to Suta, who's been begging for a sip all night, and narrows his eyes at Liam. "Too unbelievable."

I can't help it — I laugh. "Do you ever use whole sentences, or is that just wasted energy to you?"

His mouth quirks, almost a smile, but he just shakes his head. "Not worth it."

Liam snorts, patting his shoulder with his free hand. "Man of mystery."

"Man of boredom," Suta teases, foam clinging to his lip. "Don't think we haven't noticed the way you vanish every time Cam tries to get you alone with Tess."

Aaron shoots him a flat look that could cut through steel. No more words. Just... a look.

I lift a brow, impressed. "He really is terrifying without saying anything. That's a talent."

"He's a project," Liam says, grinning at me like we're sharing a private joke. His hand tightens around mine. "Cam's determined to finish him."

"Cam's insane," Aaron mutters, the most effort I've heard from him yet.

"Insanely devoted to your love life," Liam corrects smoothly, tugging me an inch closer until my shoulder brushes his chest. "But hey, don't shoot the messenger."

Aaron doesn't reply — because of course he doesn't.

Liam just shrugs, feigning innocence. "Whatever you want to do, do it quick. Lyle isn't here yet, so chances are he's probably going to pick her up," and like he's said nothing damning and like the murderous look on Aaron's face is just mildly inconvenient, he turns his attention to me. "Come on," he murmurs, leaning down so only I hear it, tugging me toward the crowd. "Let's make the rounds."

We're barely out of earshot when I glance back and catch Aaron heading toward the back door, clearly caving. Liam's grin is immediate.

"Cam's car?" I ask flatly.

"In perfect condition."

I stop walking long enough to give him a look.

"You really don't understand the things that guy would do to get Aaron and Tess together." He smirks, pulling me forward again like it's physically impossible for us not to be touching. "I swear, he roped me into this one."

And for some ridiculous reason, with his hand clamped around mine and his grin all boyish mischief, I can't even bring myself to be mad about it.