Weak Side : A Fake Dating Hockey Romance (Bexley U)
Weak Side : Chapter 10

“Hey, you’re good to clock out, sweetie.”

My shoulders slumped as I pushed away the stray hairs from my half-falling-down bun. I saw Angie peering back at Theo as he sat in the far back booth, hardly visible.

“Are you only letting me off early because you know that Theo is waiting for me?”

She looked as if I had caught her in a lie. She had the whole deer-in-the-headlights look. “Angie!” I hissed. “You’re supposed to be on my side here!”

“I didn’t know there were sides.” She raised an eyebrow.

“If there are sides, I’m on his.” I glared at our cook, Jamison. He wiggled his eyebrows as he flicked his attention to Theo.

What was so appealing about jocks? What was so appealing about a guy who commanded the room with arrogance and a sly smirk? My mother’s tired face and cursing voice skimmed the outer edges of my brain. ‘Stay away from jocks, Claire. All they do is break hearts. Look at what your father did to us.’ That was all I knew of him. He was an athlete of some kind and left us for the sport. Whereabouts? Nada.

I stole a quick look at Theo and knew, deep in the hidden part of my body, why he was appealing. He was like a majestic being. He was tall and muscular without looking like all he did was spend his time in the gym and consume juicy steaks for every meal. He was blessed with high cheekbones and green eyes that sparkled with something wildly inviting. And his smile was nice, too. White, straight teeth. And he showed them often, despite his campus nickname of being called the wolf and obliterating people on the ice.

Maybe if I was a different girl with a different upbringing and future, I could be swept off my feet by a guy like him. But that wasn’t possible being who I was and what I was up against.

“He does have a game tomorrow. He needs his rest.” Angie was messing with the register as she reminded me of what it was like being an athlete. I understood. I needed my rest before a big performance or audition too. But that didn’t necessarily make me feel bad. It wasn’t like I had asked him to sit over in the corner, watching my every move, until I was off work.

I ran over the rules that Taytum and I implemented last night while I was still fueled by anger over his earlier escapades in our room and noted the faint touch of embarrassment painting my cheeks. Taytum threw herself onto her bed with laughter every time I scribbled one rule after another, totally egging me on. To say she enjoyed herself and my tantrum was putting it mildly.

Theo glanced at his phone and threw out another sigh before moving his attention to me. My pulse stuttered when he caught me staring, and he waved the piece of paper in front of him, as if he were telling me to hurry.

I turned to glance at my tables, which were all empty. Damnit.

“Go,” Angie urged, shooting me a half-smile. “He seems pretty persistent to chat with you about something.”

I growled one last time and put my ordering book down on the counter. Fine.

Walking as slowly as possible—like putting a few more seconds between us was going to make a difference—I finally reached his table. He tipped his sharp jaw in my direction. “Hi, Bryant. Nice of you to finally make your way over here. I don’t need a refill. Thanks for asking, though.”

His glass of water was empty, and his plate didn’t even have a single piece of food left on it, but I was, under no circumstances, being his waitress.

“Sorry.” My apology was sarcastic. “I’m off the clock.” I slid into the booth in front of him, glancing at my phone with only one text from Taytum. No surprise that Chad hadn’t texted me back once today.

I clicked it off as a crumb of disappointment settled in the back of my head and pulled myself to the present as Theo’s large hands unfolded the piece of paper that I scribbled on the night before.

“Couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t stay in our room last night.”

I pulled my hair down out of my bun and let my brown hair tumble over my shoulders. Some of the strands were still damp from my shower after practice, and it filled the empty space with the smell of my shampoo. His nostrils flared for a second before he tapped the paper that laid in between us.

“Were you busy working on this?”

I shrugged. “I was just waiting for the smell of sex to leave our room before coming back.”

He barked out a laugh, and I knew it had gained the attention of the group of girls at the bar. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re dramatic, Bryant?”

I wished he would quit using that stupid nickname.

“Nope,” I said, lying through my teeth. Chad called me dramatic often. The only difference was that when Chad said it, I wasn’t being dramatic.

He pursed his lips and gave me a look that told me he knew I was lying but continued on with the conversation. “This isn’t going to work.”

I slumped backward and crossed my arms over my Bex shirt. “Us being roommates? I agree! That’s why I made the rules.”

He shook his head. “No. I’m referring to these.” His fingers tapped the paper. “These are completely one-sided.”

I bit my bottom lip as I reread what I had written.

Use a fucking quieter alarm. It wakes me up each morning, and I don’t have the luxury of going to bed at 9pm like a grandpa.

No more fucking girls in our room.

Or sexual favors. Go do it in your car. Or the locker room. Or in the hallway. I don’t care. But not near my stuff.

If you’re going to listen to trashy music, use your AirPods.

Don’t come on my side of the room.

Okay, fine. He was right. I wasn’t going to apologize, though. There was no backing down when it came to guys like him.

“Do you agree?” he prodded, pulling the paper out of my grasp. I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to answer him. He squinted as he studied me, and his sigh was so strong I felt his warm breath brush against my skin. “And you’re stubborn. Noted.”

“I am not,” I said, sitting forward. I lowered my voice. “I just don’t like the idea of you bringing a ton of girls back to our room and fucking them all over the place. I just picture you fucking them on my bed or something, and it’s…gross.”

His grin was a warning sign like no other. “Do you picture me fucking often?”

“No!” The word sprung out of my mouth as my cheeks puffed with anger. “I don’t have to picture it! I saw you in action yesterday!”

His pink lips rolled together, and he looked away, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

He is annoying. I take back what I said earlier. Theo Brooks is not appealing—at all.

I began to scoot out of the booth with annoyance backing my every move, but Theo’s voice made me pause for a second. “Oh, come on! You know if you don’t discuss this with me now that I’ll just corner you in our room later.”

There was a flutter in my lower belly that had me questioning my sanity.

“You can’t escape me.” His fingers tapped against the table. “So, sit down.”

I sat down begrudgingly but then smiled deviously as a sudden threat floated from my mouth. “Fine, then be serious, or I will walk over to those girls staring at you and see if they’ll switch rooms with me.”

Theo’s smile disappeared. I nodded before glancing at them. “Mmhm. Do you know how many random girls have tried trading me rooms because they want to room with you?”

The color drained from his face. “Are you serious?”

I nodded. “Yep.” The sound of my P had a distinct pop to it. “There’s a whole bunch of puck bunnies running around this campus that would die to be your roommate.”

“You wouldn’t.” He sat up a little straighter, showing off his rising chest. He was right, I wouldn’t. That was just plain mean because the girls that had approached me would probably rape him in his sleep or something, and considering I was actually a nice person, it would weigh on my conscience.

“Stop fucking girls in our room, and you have my word.”

Angry lines formed on his forehead. “That’s like telling you that you can’t have sex with your fuck-boy boyfriend in your living space. How is that fair?”

“He isn’t a fuck-boy.” My voice wasn’t nearly as convincing as it should have been.

Theo half-rolled his eyes as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “He seems like one, but it’s not my business. Just like it isn’t your business who I have sex with.”

We both blew out an agitated breath at the same time and stared each other down. His jade eyes were hardened around the edges, and I knew he was challenging me. He had a point, but I wasn’t willing to give up the control and concede, so instead, I jolted my hand out and snatched the paper back from him. I lifted up from the booth and pulled the pen I used for taking orders out of my back pocket, flipped the paper over, and wrote Claire and Theo’s Roommate Rules at the top.

“Fine,” I sighed. “We can both set the rules.”

“That’s more like it—”

“But,” I interrupted him, “if you break them, I swear to God I will switch rooms and let a puck bunny room with you. Don’t test me, Theo.”

He stared at me from across the table, and The Bex began to feel smaller as each second passed. His gaze wandered over my features so slowly I began to feel uncomfortable, but then his cheek lifted, and he grinned. “I was right about you.”

“You were?” I asked.

“You are tough, Bryant. Tougher than you make yourself out to be.”

I shrugged, watching him pull the paper back across the table. “Only when I need to be.” His large hand reached out quickly, and his fingers brushed mine before he stole the pen from my grip.

“You should be that way with your boyfriend,” he mumbled under his breath, but before I could question him, he wrote the first rule on the paper and raised his brows, waiting for my response.

1. Can have sex on own side of the room but must put a nonverbal warning on the doorknob for the other person to see.

“Fine.”

“That goes for you too. If your boyfriend ever decides to actually spend time with you, you’re welcome to…”—he paused, glancing away—“do whatever…on your side of the room.”

“He spends time with me,” I snapped, more irritated that he had noticed than irritated that he was right. “And we have sex. What? Did you think I was a virgin or something, because I’m not.” When was the last time we had sex, though?

“Easy, killer. I never said you were a virgin. I just don’t see your boyfriend—ever. The only thing I’ve witnessed is him acting jealous that you’re rooming with me but never giving you an out.” He shrugged again. “It’s just weird.”

“When did you witness that?” I asked, suddenly feeling nervous. “Are you spying on me?”

“That brings me to rule number two.” He wrote something else down, and humiliation came a moment later.

2. No late-night phone calls after 11.

My lips parted as I reread the rule three times before looking at him.

“You’ve been listening to my phone calls?”

He pointed at me nonchalantly. “Not on purpose, so stop looking at me like that.”

Ugh.

“So? You good with that one?”

“With Chad? Obviously! He’s my boyfriend. Our conversations are none of your business.”

He shot me a look that had me wavering. “I meant the rule, Bryant.”

My cheeks warmed as I snatched the paper from him and scribbled number three down below.

3. No blaring your alarm before 7am.

“Use a quieter alarm.” I peeked up and waited for his response. These had started out as my rules, and now, suddenly, they felt like they were his.

“Okay.”

Surprise washed over me at his acceptance. That was easy. Was I being the difficult one here? I tried to calm my jets as he wrote another rule down before sliding the paper over to me.

4. No lights on after 11.

My shoulders slumped. “That’s not fair. The library closes at ten, and I have to get my homework done. It’s not my fault you go to bed so early.”

“Do your homework earlier?” It wasn’t a statement but more so a question. Did he think I chose to do my homework late at night when I was utterly exhausted?

“I don’t have the luxury of that. I go to class all day, then I have to practice for my auditions, and soon after, depending if I get the role, rehearsals will start. Then, add in conditioning and stretching, and I can’t afford not to work with my mom—” I stopped talking the second I felt the pressure in my chest get tighter. I didn’t share my personal problems with anyone, let alone Theo. Chad only knew of my financial situation because my mother was employed by his parents, which was something he enjoyed hanging over my head.

Theo’s hand landed on mine as my breaths grew rapid. My gaze jerked to my burning skin, and one second later, he pulled his hand away, and I put mine in my lap. “Chill. I get it. But maybe use a dimmer light?” We both turned to Angie as she approached the table and smiled cheerfully.

“Take your time, but I just locked up. I still have to go through the register and prep for tomorrow.”

Theo and I both looked around the restaurant and saw that it was completely empty besides Angie and a few other waitresses going through their tips. Jamison caught my eye through the kitchen window and winked at me.

“Is it ten already?” I asked, glancing at the clock above the bar. The few flat-screen TVs were already turned off, and the large, glow light that read The Bex was next.

“Yes, but take your time, sweetie.” She turned toward Theo. “And good luck tomorrow! I’ll be there watching!”

He smiled after thanking her, and when she turned around and left, he gave me an apologetic look. “I’ve gotta go back to the room. This is not the norm for me on the night before a game.”

I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t. “You are such a grandpa, but fine. I just have one more rule.”

He groaned. “I have a feeling you’ll add more as time goes on, but by all means, write down the last rule, Bryant.”

“Actually, make that two rules.”

I quickly wrote down my last two rules, and he gaped when he read them.

“Stay out of your underwear drawer?! Really?”

I shrugged, sliding out the booth.

“I’m not a creep. Why would I go into your underwear drawer? Why would I even have the urge to do that?”

I shot him a look. “That goes for your friends too. Their crude comments and lingering stares are plenty to deal with.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. But wait.”

The pen flew over the paper as he crossed out number six.

6. Stop calling me Bryant.

“I’m still calling you Bryant because you call me grandpa.” He popped up out of the booth a moment later and towered over me. “You going straight home? Do you need a ride?”

My tongue felt heavy in my mouth as I peered up at him. Did we just become…neutral? Were we on the same terms now?

I blinked. “Um, uh…no. I mean…” I cleared my throat. “I’m going to work on my audition for a few, so I’ll be late.” Why was I acting nervous? “But…I guess I’ll try to be quiet when I get in.”

He grinned, waving the piece of paper in between us. “This was a good idea, yeah?” Then he winked and headed toward the door where Angie met him to unlock it. They chatted for a few moments, and it wasn’t hard to see the appeal. Bexley U’s best hockey player was charming in a sense, but a charming guy was a red flag if I ever saw one. Unfortunately, most girls loved red flags.

Not me, though.