Page 58 of Faking It With My Pucking Protector
I turn toward the other side of the bed.
Empty.
I sit up slowly, a pit forming in my stomach. The clock on the nightstand reads just past seven. At dinner, someone joked about being able to stay out late since practice wasn’t until noon the next day.
So where is he?
I glance toward the bathroom, but it’s quiet and dark.
My phone buzzes on the dresser. I slide out of bed, wrapping the blanket around me, and reach for it.
My heart jumps when I see it’s from Jackson, then it dips just as fast when I read the message.
Hey. Didn’t want to wake you. Heading to the rink to get some solo work in before practice. See you later.
That’s it.
No smiley face. No heart. No “last night was amazing”or “can’t wait to see you after.”
Just…see you later.
I read it twice, confusion settling in. Solo work?
My chest tightens, a hollow kind of pressure settling in my ribs. I know I’m not owed anything. Not after one night, not whenwe’re technically pretending for the world, but this didn’t feel like pretending.
Not to me.
And last night… it didn’t seem fake for him either. Not when he looked at me like that. Not when he touched me like he meant it.
So why does this morning feel like I imagined the whole thing?
I set the phone down, blinking against a sudden sting in my eyes. Maybe he just needs space. Maybe he’s overthinking things. I don’t know.
I gather my clothes from the floor and slip into the bathroom, fingers trembling as I twist my hair up and splash cold water on my face.
I’m not going to spiral. Not yet.
But something is off.
And I don’t know if it’s him pulling away… or me expecting too much.
Chapter Sixteen
JACKSON
The rink is quiet this early. Just the steady scrape of my skates carving into the ice and the hollow rhythm of my breath beneath the helmet.
I came here before sunrise.
Didn’t even wait for the coffee to finish brewing. I just grabbed my bag and left like a coward who didn’t know what to say after waking up next to the woman he’s been trying not to fall for.
I push into a sharp turn around the far faceoff circle and skate hard toward the blue line, forcing my body to move faster, more precise. Trying to outpace the thoughts chasing me. But they’re always just behind me. Especially this morning.
Ava.
Her name alone hits like a check to the chest. I close my eyes for a second mid-glide and all I see is her: tangled in my sheets, her hand warm against my jaw, the sound of her voice when she said yes.
I shouldn’t have let it happen.
