PUCKED BY THE ALL STAR HEARTTHROB CAPTAIN

CHAPTER FIVE

BRIANNA'S POV

The heavy door of my dorm room thudded shut behind me, the sound echoing the hollow thumping in my chest.

I didn’t bother flicking on the light. I didn't even have the energy to toe off my scuffed trainers. I just collapsed face-first onto the duvet, burying my burning face into the coolness of the pillow.

How had my life derailed so spectacularly in less than forty-eight hours?

On Monday, I was a ghost.

On Tuesday, I was scandalized.

And now, on Wednesday, I was the property of a boy who treated the world like his personal chessboard.

The silence of the room was oppressive, so I did the only thing that ever made the world feel manageable.

I crawled toward the foot of the bed and hauled my laptop onto my lap.

The glow of the screen washed over my tired features, and my fingers hovered over the keys, trembling.

I opened my private dashboard—the one associated with my pen name, the one that had secretly garnered thousands of views from students who had no idea the "Ghost" lived in the room next door.

I started a new draft. I titled it ‘The Wolf That Rules the Pack.’

My breath hitched as the words poured out of me. It wasn't about the game, the scores, or the technicality of the ice. It was about Mikel.

It was about the way arrogance sat on his shoulders like a royal mantle, and the way something hungry seemed to hide beneath the white-and-gold of his hockey jersey.

Writing it felt like a betrayal. It felt like playing with matches in a room full of gasoline.

If anyone ever connected these descriptions—the way he tilted his head, the specific rhythm of his walk—to the girl currently dating him, I wouldn't just be humiliated. I’d be ruined.

I was halfway through a sentence about the "calculating coldness in a striker’s eyes" when the door handle rattled violently.

I slammed the laptop shut just as my roommate’s friend, Chloe, burst in, followed by a girl in a cheerleading uniform and my roommate, Sarah.

"Oh, look who’s actually here," Sarah said, her eyes scanning me with the clinical precision of a hawk.

She didn't offer a greeting; she just leaned against the dresser, her arms crossed.

"The whole campus is literally vibrating, Brianna. My DMs are blowing up. Half the squad thinks you’ve cast a spell on Mikel, and the other half thinks you’re just a very lucky charity case."

"It’s not like that," I muttered, my stomach tightening into a hard, painful knot.

"Sure, honey. Just a word of advice?" Sarah stepped closer, her smile not reaching her eyes.

"Mikel doesn't do quiet. If you’re going to be his girl, you better start acting like you belong in the spotlight, or the school will chew you up and spit you out faster than a bad habit."

“Hmmm…” I drawled.

I didn't stay to hear the rest. I grabbed my bag, shoved my feet back into my shoes, and bolted.

I couldn't breathe in there.

I couldn't breathe anywhere where people were looking at me like I was a prize he’d won at a carnival.

It was past 6pm already and I'd planned to delay Mikel’s sorry ass. But as it seems, I wasn't even allowed to do that.

A grunt escaped my lips as I made a U-turn into the athletic wing. My sneakers squeaked against the polished tiles, the sound echoing like gunshots in the empty corridor.

I checked my watch for the tenth time. 6:35 PM.

He wasn't even here, he was still late at this time?

I bit my lip hard. I was early, and I hated myself for it. I sat on a wooden bench outside the locker rooms, my fingers twisting the strap of my bag.

Just then, the double doors at the end of the hall swung open.

Mikel walked in with a swagger that was purely instinctive.

His hair was a mess from practice, damp curls sticking to his forehead, and his gear bag was slung carelessly over one shoulder.

He looked cute—infuriatingly so—but it was the lazy, triumphant grin on his face that made my pulse spike. He dropped his bag on the bench next to me, exhaling as if he owned the very air we were breathing.

"Glad you could make it, tutor," he said, his voice dropping into that low, resonant frequency that always seemed to vibrate in my bones. "Ready to start the legend of us?"

"This isn't a legend, Mikel. It’s a transaction," I said, standing up and pulling out a notebook.

I wasn't going to let him dictate the tempo today.

"If we're doing this—this fake relationship—we need standard ground rules, not like the just stated carefree ones. And I’m going first."

He leaned back, spreading his arms across the top of the bench, his eyes tracking my every move. "Go on then, Bri. Rule the world."

"Rule one," I said, my voice gaining strength. "No sudden kisses. No physical contact that isn't absolutely necessary for the performance."

"Rule two: No sex. Not even a hint of it.”

"Rule three: No catching feelings. This is a job.”

"Rule four: Nobody finds out this is fake. If you slip up, I’m gone."

“And rule five: This ends the second Homecoming is over. We go our separate ways, and you give me back every page of my notebook."

Mikel watched me for a long beat, his expression unreadable. Then, he stood up, closing the distance between us until I had to tilt my head back to look at him.

"My turn," he whispered. "Rule one: You attend every single home game with no excuses."

“Rule two: You cheer loudly for any game of mine. I want everyone to think you’re my biggest fan."

“Rule three: You go to every party I go to. That includes the victory celebrations after the matches."

“Rule four: You wear my jersey on Fridays. And rule five..." He stepped even closer, his thigh pressing just slightly against mine.

I scooted away immediately, my heart racing. He just chuckled and scooted closer again, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"Rule five," he continued, "is that you don't look at me like I’m a monster when people are watching. You look at me like you did in that story you wrote—like I’m the only thing in the room worth seeing."

I glared at him, the tension in the room becoming heavy. I didn't know what, but him up close was surely doing something to me.

"One month," I whispered. "That’s it."

"One month," he agreed, his grin widening. "A lot can happen in a month, Brianna."

I turned away, trying to hide the way my hands were shaking.

I was trapped. I was effectively being blackmailed into a starring role in a drama I never auditioned for.

I had to keep the act convincing; I had to play the part of the devoted girlfriend while secretly fixing the grades of the boy I wanted to throttle.

"Well a lot can happen, but trust me, that lot won't include me liking your ass one bit." I snarled.

“I didn't mention liking," brows arched as he scurried forward. “Did you maybe have some feeling for me Brianna?"

At the sound of those questions, my heart suddenly started racing so fast, I was scared he had hear them.

I pushed at his chest, forcing him to sit. “You wish. I don't fall for block heads, only geniuses catches my attention"

“Well I guess I have to work hard," He winked and I suddenly felt hot.

I swallowed hard and stared at him sternly, “It's tutoring time, you better listen. I'm not lenient as a tutor.”