The Hockey Captain's $300,000 Fake Fiancée

Eloise POV:

The next day at The Daily Grind, I wiped down the counter, my movements automatic. Kevin's words from last night were a toxic mantra in my head.

Three hundred thousand dollars for Dad's cancer treatment and my brother Leo's surgery.

The number was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I watched the Briar students outside, laughing and carefree, and felt like I was separated from them by a wall of glass.

The bell on the door chimed.

Harrison Scott walked in.

I recognized him instantly. Not just from the Hinge photo, but because he was the captain of the Briar hockey team. A campus legend.

Tiffany Sharp, the queen bee of Briar's business school, had looped her arm possessively through his, although Harrison's hands remained in his pockets and he made no move to encourage her.

"My dad finally got me that limited-edition Dior bag," Tiffany announced. "It cost more than most people's cars, but it'll be perfect for the Kappa gala on Friday. You should come with me. Everyone will lose their minds when we walk in together."

Harrison looked bored. He gently but firmly pulled his arm free. "Tiffany, I already told you I'm not going to the gala with you."

Her smile vanished. "You haven't listened to a word I've said. Do you ever care about anything besides hockey?"

"You're not interested in me," Harrison said evenly. "You're interested in being seen with the captain of the hockey team. And I'm not interested in being your accessory. So let's stop wasting each other's time."

Tiffany's face flushed. "You're unbelievable." She tossed her hair over one shoulder and stormed out of the cafe.

Only then did Harrison's eyes scan the room.

Then they landed on me.

A knot formed in my stomach. I instinctively wanted to duck behind the espresso machine. Did he recognize me?

He started walking toward the counter. "Black coffee, thanks," he said to me. His voice was deeper than I'd expected.

I nodded, turning to the machine, feeling his gaze on my back.

Just then, the bell chimed again.

My nightmare walked in. Kevin Price.

He spotted me immediately, a smug, predatory smile spreading across his face as he sauntered to the bar.

"Eloise. Fancy seeing you here," he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. He leaned against the counter. "So, have you considered my 'offer' from last night? It's still on the table."

The cafe chatter died down. Eyes turned toward us. My face was on fire. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

I was about to tell him to get lost when a hand reached past me and took the cup of black coffee I'd just made.

Harrison Scott had moved to stand between me and Kevin, his tall frame a sudden, solid shield.

"She already turned you down last night. Didn't you get it?" Harrison's voice was cold, edged with an authority that commanded attention.

Kevin was taken aback, clearly not expecting the hockey star to intervene. "Who are you? This is between me and her."

Harrison let out a short, humorless laugh. He turned his head slightly, his blue eyes meeting mine. They held an expression I couldn't decipher. "Honey, didn't you tell him we're together?"

The cafe went silent.

I was completely stunned, my heart pounding against my ribs.

Kevin's face cycled through shades of white, red, and a sickly green. "You... you two?"

Harrison's expression hardened. "That's right. And listen carefully, Price—her family isn't a mess, and she isn't some bargain you get to price. She's worth more than a man like you could ever understand."

He placed a crisp hundred-dollar bill on the counter. "For the coffee. Keep the change." Then he grabbed my wrist. "We're stepping outside."

His touch was firm, a jolt of electricity. I was pulled along, a puppet on a string, as he led me out of the cafe. I could feel Kevin's furious glare and the shocked stares of everyone else on my back.

The cold air outside finally snapped me out of my trance. I yanked my hand back. "What was that all about?"

Harrison leaned against his GMC Sierra, a massive pickup truck that seemed out of place for a student. He watched me with an unreadable expression. "Helping you out. It was clear you couldn't handle a guy like that."

The truth of his words stung. "I don't need you to fight my battles."

"Really?" He arched an eyebrow. "So what's your plan for your father's medical bills? Your brother's surgery? More dates with guys like Kevin?"

I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. I stared at him, my blood turning to ice. "You... you investigated me too?"

"Not exactly," he said, completely unfazed. "Before I propose a partnership, I like to understand my potential 'partner.'"

"Partnership?" I was lost.

"Yes." He straightened up, his expression turning serious. "I need someone to play the part of my girlfriend in public. It would help me get rid of annoyances like Tiffany, and it would clean up my playboy image with my coach and sponsors."

He paused, his gaze sharp. "And you," he continued, "you need a respectable 'fiancé' to give your father peace of mind. And you need money. A lot of it."

"In exchange," he dropped the bombshell, "I'll take care of the three hundred thousand dollars. Also, my philosophy grade needs to be an A. You're a top student in the arts department; your logic and writing skills can't be bad. You'll be my tutor, and you'll play the part of my fiancée until your father is satisfied."

My mind went blank. This was insane. It was a fantasy.

Seeing my shocked expression, he added, "It's a proposal, Eloise. A contract. No emotions, just a transaction. Think about it."

He handed me a business card with just a name and a phone number. Then he opened the door to his truck, a vehicle that screamed money far more than a "normal student" could afford, and got in.

The roar of the engine jolted me back to reality. I looked at the card in my hand, then thought of my father's pale face and Kevin's sneering voice saying "three hundred thousand."