The Fake Out (Vancouver Storm, #2)

“Enjoy it,” she says, smiling. “This is the fun part, when you can’t get enough of each other.”


I think about this phase ending, and my heart aches at the idea of Rory’s eyes flicking over me with disinterest. His teasing used to irritate me, but now I’d miss it.

A massive blur of red and green comes to a sudden stop in front of us, spraying ice against the boards.

“Oh my god. Come here.” Darcy reaches up and rubs her thumb down Hayden’s jaw. Her head barely comes to his shoulder. “You have glitter all over. Where did you even get this stuff?”

He obediently leans down for her while she brushes it out of his stubble. “Pippa put it on me.” He gives her a flirty smile. “Aren’t I the prettiest elf you’ve ever seen?”

She’s blushing. “You’re definitely the biggest elf. You’d weigh the sleigh down.”

Hayden puffs his chest out. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

They grin at each other, but there’s something in Hayden’s eyes as he looks down at Darcy. His gaze lingers on her, flooded with the same warm, affectionate longing I see in Rory’s eyes when he looks at me.

Kit skates up beside Darcy. “You two look like you’re getting into trouble.”

He wraps an arm around her waist, and Hayden’s eyes drop to it before he glances away.

“Just the usual.” Darcy smiles at Kit, nudging him with her elbow. “You were having fun out there, huh?”

“I was.” He rubs the back of his neck, sending her a quiet smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Teaching kids to skate?” Darcy asks, chuckling.

“No.” He gives her a shy, meaningful expression. “Having kids. A bunch of them. Going skating with them and stuff.”

Her smile drops like it’s the last thing she expected him to say.

Hayden laughs, but it seems forced. “Jumping the gun a bit there, aren’t you, buddy?”

“Yeah.” Darcy does her own uncomfortable laugh. “That’s pretty far away, Kit.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Not that far away.”

Her features tighten, eyes flaring with worry and apprehension, and Hayden looks between them like he’s seen a ghost. No trace of his former smile on his boyish face.

“We’d get married first,” Kit adds.

Darcy blinks like she doesn’t know what to say, and when Connor and his lady friend skate up, she looks relieved.

Connor says hello to everyone before lifting his eyebrows at me. “Hazel.” His eyes rake over my jersey, flickering with distaste. “Have you met my girlfriend, Sam?”

Darcy, Hayden, and Kit must sense the weird energy because they mumble an excuse about helping Ward with something and leave.

A laugh slams against my vocal cords but I hold it back. Sam is smiling at me in a way that tells me she’s lovely and kind, and I don’t want to be rude.

Saw this and thought you’d look hot in it. That’s what the card said. He sent that gross lingerie when he likely had a girlfriend.

Gross. Just gross. But that’s not her fault.

“Hi, Sam,” I say with a warm smile, shaking her hand. “I’m Hazel. So good to meet you.”

“You, too.” She beams at me, and there’s a sour feeling in my stomach. Why is she with him? Doesn’t she see what he’s really like?

I didn’t, though, so how can I fault her for not seeing it either?

“Do you live in Vancouver?” I ask, and Connor’s expression darkens a fraction.

He doesn’t like me being friendly with his new girl, but I ignore him. As we chat, Connor clears his throat and puts his arm around her shoulders, watching me, but I just smile at them.

This asshole’s trying to make me jealous, but instead, I just feel like laughing.

After a few minutes of friendly conversation while he glowers at us, he gives her a tight smile. “You want to keep skating, babe?”

She nods and smiles up at him, and without another glance at me, he pulls her away. She waves goodbye over her shoulder.

I wave after them, feeling tired of this game we’re playing. When I think about what Connor did, I don’t feel angry anymore. I want to move on.

Rory comes to a stop beside me, watching after Connor and Sam. “What the fuck was that?”

“He brought a girl. She’s nice, actually.” I slip my hand into his, and he looks down at me, expression clearing. “I don’t care about them,” I tell him, giving him a soft smile.

Memories of last night flash into my head, me sitting on his lap while his fingers curled inside me with that clouded, intense expression. My eyebrow arches as I give him a cool, flirty smile.

His gaze sharpens and he lifts his brows in interest.

“What are you doing tonight?” I ask lightly, still smiling.

“You.” He winks, and I burst out laughing.

“Good.” Finally.

A gaggle of kids shuffle up to us, interrupting. “Can you teach me how to skate backward?” one kid asks Rory.

Rory leans down, setting his hands on his knees. “I sure can.” He looks to a little girl standing beside the boy. “You want to learn, too?”

She points a chubby finger at me. “I want her to teach me.”

Rory winces. “She isn’t very good.”

My mouth falls open and I laugh. “Not very good? That’s only because I had a bad teacher.”

He grins.

“He’s always trying to hold my hand,” I tell the kids, wrinkling my nose.

“Ew,” the boy says, and the girl giggles.

Rory and I smile at each other, his eyes spilling over with light and affection.

“How about a friendly competition, Miller?”

Five minutes later, the orange cones are set up on the ice and players and parents line up behind us to take their turn racing through an obstacle course. Rory and his teammate, a boy with glasses and an adorable gap between his two front teeth, finish to a round of cheers.

I smile down at the little girl clutching my hand. “Ready?”

With her eager nod, we’re off, only skating as fast as she can while everyone cheers for us. I look over to Rory and stick my tongue out at him, and the kids laugh. We’re weaving through the cones, and she’s a little wobbly on her feet, so I skate backward, holding her hands the way Rory did for me the first time.

“Look at those moves, Hartley,” Rory calls. “You must’ve had an incredible teacher.”

I laugh, but as I grin back at him, something catches under my skate. One of the cones. I suck in a sharp gasp, stumbling and dropping the girl’s hands as my skate slips again.

I hit the ice, knocking the wind out of my lungs, and white-hot pain shoots through my ankle.





CHAPTER 52





RORY





People descend on Hazel, crowding her.

“Everyone back off!” My voice booms around the arena as I hurry over at full speed. People give her space, but not fast enough. “Move the fuck back!”

“Dude, there’re kids around,” Owens mutters to me.

I don’t care. My pulse pounds in my ears as I crouch down to Hazel, looking her over, moving my hands over her limbs.

No blood. Her ankle is still on straight. It doesn’t seem like anything is broken.

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