Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player Chapter 151

EMILIA

By the time Lacey and Julie drop us off at the hotel, I'm running on fumes. My feet ache, my legs are screaming, and even pressing the elevator button feels like a full-body workout.

Somewhere between the lobby and the elevator, Tessa vanishes — probably off charming the front desk clerk — and texts me to "go warm up the room." Which is her code for "make sure no serial killer is hiding in the closet."

Ever since we watched that one true crime documentary back in college, she's refused to stay in a hotel room alone. We ended up booking a suite big enough for the both of us.

Not that I mind. Sharing means she pays half — and I get someone to scream at the creepy hallway noises with.

When I step into the elevator, Liam's name flashing across my screen lights me up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Hey, love," he says the moment I answer, and I can hear the smile in his voice. Mine matches it instantly.

"Hi. Are you at the hotel already?"

"Yeah, rooming with Wolfe," he sighs. "I had my doubts, and they've all been confirmed."

I laugh, leaning against the cool elevator wall as I press the button for the rooftop instead of my floor. "What happened, he snore?"

"Worse. He talks in his sleep. About strategy."

That makes me laugh harder, and the sound seems to ease something in both of us.

"Did your meeting go okay?" I ask once I catch my breath.

"You could say that." There's movement on his end — the soft thud of something being dropped, a tired exhale. "Coach is so stressed about tomorrow, he's passing it on to everyone."

I hum in sympathy, closing my eyes for a moment. "Sounds fun."

"Oh, yeah. Living the dream."

"Are you stressed about tomorrow?"

"Stressed?" He scoffs. "No. We'll be wiping the floor with Chicago either way."

"That's the spirit."

The elevator dings open, and I step out onto the rooftop lounge, where the wind immediately tosses my hair. I wander toward the railing, resting my elbows against the cool metal.

"Where are you?" he asks after a beat, voice softer now.

"Rooftop," I say. "Needed a little air. Tess dipped the second we got back."

He chuckles. "Don't tell me you're up there alone."

"I can handle a rooftop, Liam."

"Famous last words," he mutters, and I smile. "You didn't learn anything from those crime documentaries?"

"I did," I say lightly. "There are cameras here, so they'd probably think twice before attacking."

"That's not even funny, Emilia. It's colder than it was in the morning and I'm sure you're dressed to catch a cold." His tone is sharp enough to make me pause. I can practically see the furrow between his brows, the way his jaw clenches when he's trying not to sound overprotective.

I sigh, leaning against the railing. "Relax, I'm fine. It's quiet up here. The view's kind of nice, too."

He hums, still not convinced. "You could've called me before going up there. I would've made sure you bundled up."

"I did call you," I tease. "You just didn't know it was a distress signal."

"No, you didn't—" he starts, then stops himself with a laugh. "You drive me insane, you know that?"

"I know." I grin. "You sound tired."

"I am. Practice was brutal. You sound smug."

"I am. We had an amazing day," I admit, my voice softening as I look out over the city. "Lacey dragged us to about eight different stores on Michigan Avenue. I think she's secretly training for a marathon. Julie kept taking pictures of us like a proud mom."

"That sounds like her." He laughs quietly. "Did she embarrass you yet?"

"Define embarrass. She made me do a synchronized hair flip for a TikTok."

He groans. "Of course she did."

"It was actually fun," I say with a giggle. "Tess pretended to hate it, but she smiled the whole time. And we stopped for lattes after—mine had sparkles on it, can you believe that? Sparkles. I'm officially a glitter girl now."

"Oh no," Liam teases, "I'm losing you to the dark side."

"Please, I've been there for years."

He laughs, and the sound makes something flutter in my chest.

"Anyway," I say, a little shyly now, "I might've gotten you something."

"Oh?" His tone perks up instantly. "Should I be scared?"

"Maybe," I tease. "It's small. I saw it in this little boutique Lacey took us to, and I thought of you. It's... kind of stupid, actually."

"Em, I'd love anything you give me."

I grin. "Even if it's cheesy?"

"Especially if it's cheesy."

I bite my lip, trying to hold back a smile. "Okay, fine. It's a blue scarf. The exact shade of your eyes. I thought you'd look—" I stop myself before I can say hot and clear my throat. "—uh, warm."

"Warm, huh?" He sounds amused. "You mean devastatingly handsome."

"I'm hanging up."

He laughs, low and genuine, and I can't help laughing too.

"I'm serious. Thank you, love."

I smile, fingers tracing the cold metal railing. "You'll see it tomorrow. Maybe it'll bring you luck."

"You're all the luck I need," he says, and it's so earnest I almost forget how to breathe. "I don't think you realize how much I love hearing about your day. Or that you think of me, even when I'm not around."

"You're always around," I murmur, tracing my fingers over the cold railing. "Even when you're not."

There's a long, quiet pause between us. Just the hum of the city, the rustle of wind, and his steady breathing through the line.

"Go to sleep, Liam," I whisper, smiling despite myself.

"Only if you promise to go back inside."

"Fine."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

There's a pause, then he says softly, "Goodnight, Em. I love you."

"Goodnight. I love you too."

The line clicks off, and I stay there for a moment longer before fulfilling my promise.

* * *

When I open the door to our hotel room, the lights are already on and there's a keycard sitting in the slot by the door. I blink, checking the room number again. It's definitely ours.

Still, my brain flashes back to that one episode in the documentary about the hotel murder, and I freeze in the doorway.

"Tess?" I call out carefully. "I thought you wanted me to warm up the room. What are you doing in already?"

"I'm not Tessa."

The voice freezes me in place — deep, familiar, and the last one I expected to hear.

Zane steps out from near the bed, stirring something in a cup of tea like he belongs here. He smiles, warm and kind, and a chill runs straight down my spine.

"Close the door behind you, babe," he says. "We need to talk."