Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player novel Chapter 215

Chapter 215

The bell over the door jingles as we step inside. The place smells like waffle cones and happiness, which is exactly what I need. I head for the counter, but Liam doesn’t move he’s still leaning against me like I’m the only thing keeping him upright.

“You’re heavy,” I mutter, trying to shove him off.

He doesn’t budge. “Girlfriend privilege. You’re required to hold me up.”

I roll my eyes but secretly… yeah, I don’t hate it.

“What do you want?” I ask, scanning the flavours.

“You.”

I turn and stare at him. He’s got that lazy smirk plastered across his pale face, eyes tired but annoyingly smug.

“I was talking about the flavours. Keep up, Mr. Calloway,” I say, fighting a smile. “Do you want chocolate or vanilla?”

He leans down, lips brushing my temple. “Whichever one you’ll feed me so I don’t have to lift a spoon.”

I groan. “What am I going to do with you? I thought you didn’t even have a sweet tooth.”

“I don’t. I just like the idea of a charming sick prince and a fussy princess on an ice cream date. Should we pitch it to Disney?”

I don’t even bother anymore. I just pat him on the head.

We end up in a corner booth, Liam collapsed against the vinyl like the world’s most dramatic patient. I set down our cups – mint chip for me, plain chocolate for him because apparently his taste buds stopped maturing at age eight.

“Open,” I command, holding up a spoonful.

He obeys, mouth parting without a word, and I can’t help laughing at how unashamed he looks like this is a perfectly normal date ritual.

“Good?” I ask.

He chews with exaggerated seriousness, then swallows. “Best chocolate ice cream I’ve ever had.”

Who even chews ice cream? What a weirdo, but I say nothing because he looks miserable enough. “It’s literally the same as every other place.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. This one tastes different. Special.”

I narrow my eyes. “Because I bought it?”

“With my card?” He grins, sticky and smug. “But yes. Exactly. Everything’s better when it’s from you.”

I try to play it off, but heat creeps up my neck. “You’re unbearable.”

“Nice to meet you, Clara.” He glances at me, then back at her. “You want a picture?”

Her head bobs furiously.

He slides out of the booth, steadying himself just barely, and I catch the faint wince he hides as she lifts her phone. He still crouches a little so she doesn’t have to stand on tiptoe, smile broad and easy like he hasn’t been groaning in my lap for the last hour.

When she’s done, Clara beams. “Thank you! Sorry for interrupting.” She directs the latter at me and I just wave at her.

“No problem,” Liam says, gentle. “Thanks for coming over. You have a good night, yeah?”

She scurries out, practically vibrating.

As soon as the door jingles shut behind her, he drops back into the booth with a heavy exhale. “Jesus Christ. My head is pounding. Did I look normal?”

I smirk. “You looked like a man in a commercial for ‘Hockey Players Who Totally Don’t Die After One Kale Juice.“”

“Perfect. Nailed it.” He leans back against me again, dramatic as ever. His hand warm on my thigh. “Now keep feeding me or I’ll actually throw up.

I shake my head, smiling, and do exactly as he says. I don’t even notice the message that lights up on my phone. Or the familiar name that hovers over it.

Kara.