Faking It With The Hockey Star

Chapter 14: Something Isn’t Right

Haper’s POV

The moment I stepped inside the arena, the familiar scent of ice, rubber, and fresh tape wrapped itself around me but everything still felt wrong. My hands refused to stop trembling.

I tightened my grip on my camera bag and forced myself to breathe as I made my way toward the media area overlooking the rink. Players were already filtering onto the ice, some stretching, others laughing while firing lazy shots toward the goal.

The noise should have drowned out Ethan’s voice. Instead, every sound seemed to carry it back to me.

"You honestly think a guy like Justin Hayes would choose someone like you?"

I shut my eyes for half a second. Stop. Don’t think about it. Focus.

I carefully unzipped my camera bag and began setting up my equipment. Tripod. Camera body. Lens. Microphone. Simple. Routine.

My fingers fumbled with the tripod latch. I frowned and tried again. It slipped from my grasp. The loud metallic clank echoed across the empty media platform. Several heads turned. Heat rushed into my cheeks.

"Great."

I bent to pick it up, only to realize I’d somehow dropped the lens cap too. How? I never dropped equipment. Never. I found it under the bench, dusted it off, and finally attached the camera to the tripod.

There. Done.

Except, why wasn’t the screen turning on?

I frowned. The battery. I’d forgotten to put the battery in.

I stared at the camera for a long moment. "What is wrong with me?"

"You’ve been asking yourself that for the last three minutes."

I jumped. Justin stood on the other side of the boards, helmet tucked beneath one arm, his skates gliding effortlessly over the ice until he stopped directly in front of me. I hadn’t even noticed him arrive.

"You scared me."

"I’ve been standing here." His eyes drifted to the camera. "You’ve pointed that thing at the empty goal for almost a minute."

I immediately looked toward the rink. Sure enough, I hadn’t even removed the lens cap. I let out a quiet groan. "Oh my God."

Justin didn’t laugh. That surprised me. Instead, he rested both gloved hands on top of the boards and watched me carefully. "You okay?"

I nodded too quickly. "I’m fine."

"You forgot your battery."

"I know."

"You dropped your tripod."

"I know."

"You’ve apologized to yourself twice."

I blinked. "I did not."

"You just apologized to the camera."

I looked down. "...I did?"

His expression softened. "Harper."

"I’m okay."

"No." His voice was calm, steady, patient. "You’re not."

I busied myself with the camera again, pretending to adjust settings that didn’t actually need adjusting. "I’m just tired."

"You didn’t sleep."

"I slept."

He tilted his head. "Two hours doesn’t count."

I stopped moving. Slowly, I looked up. "How do you know I slept for two hours?"

"You texted me at two in the morning."

I frowned. "I didn’t."

"You replied to my message."

My stomach dropped. I had. I’d forgotten. Can’t sleep. That was all I’d written. I hadn’t even realized I’d sent it.

Justin offered a small smile. "I wasn’t keeping score."

Embarrassment settled over me. "I didn’t mean to bother you."

"You didn’t."

Silence settled between us. Comfortable. Quiet. Dangerously comfortable.

Justin studied my face for another moment. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Harper."

"I’m serious."

"No, you’re not."

I sighed. "I just..."

My voice trailed away. What could I even say? That Ethan had managed to make me question everything I’d been trying to rebuild? That somehow, after everything he’d done, his words still found a way inside my head? I hated that. I hated him for it. I hated myself even more.

I forced a smile. "So..." I cleared my throat. "Which players should I interview first?"

Justin didn’t answer. He simply continued looking at me. It felt like he could see straight through me.

"The interviews can wait."

"They can’t."

"They can."

"My project can’t."

"Our conversation can."

I frowned. "We’re not having a conversation."

"You snapped at me."

The words hit harder than they should have. Because he was right. I had. And he hadn’t done anything wrong.

"I’m..."

The apology stopped halfway out.

Justin smiled faintly. "I know."

"No." I shook my head quickly. "I didn’t mean that."

"I know."

"I’m just..."

"I know."

His voice never changed. Never became defensive. Never became impatient. Somehow, that only made me feel worse.

I let out a shaky breath. "Can we please just start?"

The words came out sharper than I intended. The moment they left my mouth, regret followed.

Justin blinked once. Then nodded. "Okay."

No argument. No attitude. Just okay.

He pushed himself away from the boards before lifting two fingers to his mouth and letting out a sharp whistle that echoed across the arena. One of the players immediately skated over. Tall. Broad shoulders. Messy brown hair sticking out beneath his helmet. His grin was so bright it could probably power the arena lights.

"Yeah, Cap?"

Justin nodded toward me. "Mason."

The player looked my way. "Oh!" His smile widened. "You’re Documentary Girl."

Despite everything, I managed the tiniest smile. "I guess I am."

"I’m Mason." He extended a gloved hand over the boards. "Defense."

"yea, I know that."

He gasped dramatically. "You know me?"

Justin rolled his eyes. "Don’t encourage him."

Mason ignored him completely. "I’m basically the most important player on this team."

Justin snorted. "The bench disagrees."

"I score emotional support points."

"I’ll make Coach start counting them."

Mason laughed before looking back at me. The smile slowly disappeared from his face. He’d noticed. The redness around my eyes. The way my hands still trembled slightly. The fake smile. His expression became gentler.

"You okay?"

Before I could answer, Justin spoke quietly. "Go easy on her today."

Mason didn’t ask why. Didn’t press for details. He simply nodded once. "Got it."

Something about that silent understanding made my chest tighten. These guys really listened to Justin. And somehow that made me feel safe. For the first time all afternoon.

Mason rested his elbows on the boards and flashed me another easy smile. "So, where do you want me?"

I blinked, realizing he’d asked me the question twice. "I’m sorry?"

Justin gave me a sideways glance. "The interview."

"Oh." I quickly lifted my camera. "Right. Sorry."

I adjusted the focus before taking a step back. "Just stand over there."

Mason obediently skated to the spot I pointed at. "Like this?"

"A little to your left."

He moved. "No, your other left."

He laughed. "I’ve always been bad at directions."

Despite everything weighing on me, a tiny smile escaped. "There. Perfect."

I lifted the camera. "Rolling in three, two..."

The words caught in my throat. Without realizing it, my eyes drifted toward the tunnel leading onto the ice. Empty. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

"Harper?"

I blinked. Mason was staring at me. "The camera’s rolling."

"Oh." I forced another smile. "Sorry."

We started again. "Tell me about your role on the team."

Mason answered enthusiastically, joking about how defensemen deserved more appreciation because everyone only remembered the goal scorers. I nodded along. Asked another question. Then, almost without thinking, I looked toward the tunnel again. Still nothing. My stomach slowly unclenched. Maybe Ethan had gone somewhere else. Maybe he’d decided to leave me alone. Maybe...

A burst of laughter echoed from the entrance. Every muscle in my body stiffened. I looked over before I could stop myself.

Ethan.

He walked onto the ice with two teammates, laughing about something one of them had said. The moment I saw him, my fingers tightened around the camera. Too tight. The image on the screen shook slightly.

"Harper?" Mason’s voice sounded distant. "You okay?"

I quickly nodded. "Yeah."

But my eyes stayed on Ethan. He hadn’t seen me yet. Or maybe he had. I couldn’t tell. I just knew I couldn’t stop watching him. As though if I looked away, he’d somehow appear right beside me again.

"You’ve stopped recording."

I looked down. The red light had gone off. I hadn’t even noticed. "Oh..." My cheeks burned. "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay." Mason’s voice was gentle. "We can start again."

Behind him, Justin hadn’t moved. He was still standing near center ice, stick resting casually against one shoulder. His attention wasn’t on Mason. Or practice. It was on me. He watched as I looked toward the tunnel again. Then back at my camera. Then toward Ethan. Again.

Justin’s eyes slowly followed mine. He looked across the rink. Straight at Ethan. Something changed in his expression. Not anger. Recognition. Like the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place.

He looked back at me. I immediately looked away. Too late. He’d seen it. He’d seen everything. The way my shoulders tensed every time Ethan moved. The way my hands shook whenever he came into view. The way I kept checking where he was.

Justin pushed away from the boards.

I frowned. Where was he going?

He skated slowly across the ice, eyes never leaving Ethan. My heartbeat quickened. No. Please don’t.

I lowered my camera. "Justin."

He didn’t react. Maybe he hadn’t heard me. He continued gliding across the rink. Unhurried. Controlled. Purposeful.

"Justin," I called again, a little louder.

This time he turned his head just enough for our eyes to meet. There was something in his expression I’d never seen before. It wasn’t the teasing hockey captain. It wasn’t the carefree flirt. It was the team captain. Calm. Focused. Protective.

He gave me the smallest nod. Almost as if to say, I’ve got this.

My stomach dropped. "No..."

The word escaped before I could stop it.

Justin turned back toward Ethan. I gripped the edge of the boards. "Justin, please."

He kept skating. Ethan finally noticed him approaching. The smile on Ethan’s face slowly disappeared. The laughter around him faded. Players nearby began glancing between the two men. Even Mason stopped talking. A strange silence settled over the rink.

Justin came to a smooth stop directly in front of Ethan. Neither of them spoke. Not yet. But every instinct I had screamed the same thing.

Something was about to happen.