Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player - Chapter 80: Chapter 80

ZANE
Arms crossed, back pressed to the wall, I wait.
The bastard’s taking his time. Every second that ticks by grates at my nerves, winding them tighter. When the suite door finally creaks open, Stone stumbles out like he’s got somewhere urgent to be — duffel bags slung over each shoulder, head down, avoiding the world.
He doesn’t see me right away. Fumbles with the door like it’s giving him a hard time. When he finally clocks me standing there, his body goes rigid. “Za—”
Too late.
My fist snaps forward and cracks against his already bruised jaw. The force knocks him off balance, sending him stumbling into the hallway wall with a grunt of pain, one hand clutching his face.
He’s still upright. Shame.
I close the distance, grab him by the collar, and slam him hard against the wall. The bags hit the floor with a heavy thud, but his grip on them is stubborn, like they’re his last damn lifeline.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I growl, my voice low and sharp, heat rising in my chest. “What the hell are these?” I slam my boot against one of the duffels. When he flinches, my fists clench. That twitch sets me off all over again.
“I just want to get off for a while,” he mutters, eyes glazed like he’s halfway between exhausted and detached. Like he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing.
My fury surges like a wave, slamming into my chest. “You want to get off the ship? Are you fucking serious right now? The wedding’s in less than two weeks!”
I close the distance between us, standing so close I can see the pulse ticking in his neck. “What the hell am I supposed to tell Becca? What do I say when people ask why my best man bailed like a goddamn coward?”
He flinches — barely — but it’s enough. His eyes shift away, jaw clenched tight.
“You never cared what Becca thought about this wedding anyway,” he mutters.
“That’s not what I fucking asked!” I snap, voice cutting through the hallway like glass. His gaze finally meets mine, and whatever’s in it — shame, regret, fear — it pisses me off even more.
He exhales, rubs a hand down his face like that’ll buy him time. “I’ll make it up to you before the season starts,” he says finally. Then, as if struck by some brilliant idea, he adds, “You remember Cole’s fiancée? The redhead with the long legs and that perfect little ass? You were eyeing her last month. I can get you her number.”
For a beat, I say nothing. He’s not wrong — I had looked. I wouldn’t mind screwing her brains out for a few nights. But whatever part of me entertained the idea gets steamrolled by the fire climbing up my spine.
I step closer. “Okay. Let’s say you do that. Let’s say I fuck her, twice, maybe three times. What then?” I pause. “What the hell do I tell Becca?”
He shrugs like it’s simple. “Tell her I had shit to handle. That I couldn’t make it. Give Toby my tux, it might be tight on the shoulders, but it’ll do.”
I shake my head slowly. “That’s not good enough. You don’t just vanish without giving me something, man. So what is it? What the fuck is going on, Stone?”
Then I hear a door creak open behind him. My head whips toward the sound — and Céline steps out of his room, dragging her suitcase behind her.
She sees us frozen in place and lets out a flat, “Oh.”
My brain stalls. My fists unclench just enough to let the confusion sink in. “What the hell is going on here?”
Céline glares at Stone like she could set him on fire with it. “You didn’t tell him? Are you out of your goddamn mind? How are we supposed to leave if he doesn’t even know? Are you stupid?”
Stone rounds on her, his voice strained. “Look at him. Look at how he’s reacting and he doesn’t even know half of it. How the fuck was I supposed to tell him?”
Céline hesitates for a beat, jaw tight. She looks like she wants to be anywhere but here, but she speaks anyway. “We’re leaving the cruise,” she says slowly, weighing each word. “We both have things to handle back home. Urgent things. Or do you plan to hold us hostage out here?”
“Unless someone here grows a spine and says what the hell is happening, I sure as hell will consider it,” I grunt out.
Her eyes narrow, cutting toward me. “And how did you even know he was planning to leave? You just happened to be standing outside his door?”
Well, damn it.
I grind my teeth. I can’t exactly admit to watching the feed. “I’ll explain when your boyfriend here opens his damn mouth and tells me what’s going on.”
She physically recoils at the title.
Stone sighs, shoulders sagging. “Fine.” He steps forward, eyes meeting mine unwillingly. “I fucked up, Zane. There’s stuff I need to fix before the season kicks off. I can’t fix anything from a damn cruise ship.”
I fold my arms, skeptical. “Becca’s still expecting you to stand next to me on that altar.”
He winces. “Becca can barely stand to be in the same room as me.”
Fair enough.
I shift my attention to Céline. “And you? What’s your excuse? Becca hate you too?”
She laughs dryly. “I got bored. And I told her last night I was thinking of heading out early.” Then she adds, eyes slicing toward me, “Maybe if you’re so worried about public perception, you should try keeping your dick in your pants until the wedding.”
My jaw tightens. Her next words are aimed at Stone, but meant for me.
“And maybe he shouldn’t be fucking people’s fiancées.”
My brows shoot up. “Oh, that’s rich. You really want to go there? Didn’t you sleep with Tonia’s boyfriend? Isn’t that why she’s been giving you the death stare all week?”
Céline’s nostrils flare. “Stay the fuck out of it.”
Stone places a hand on my chest — not hard, just enough to hold the line. “You’ve always said I needed to man up. That’s what I’m trying to do here.”
“By walking away?”
“Holy shit, attached much?” Céline bristles, arms crossed. “Maybe the real reason you’re so desperate for him to stay is because you’re not ready to go through with the wedding. You want a buffer. You want someone to hold your hand through it.” Her voice sharpens. “Do Becca a favour. Let her marry someone who actually wants to marry her.”
The words hit harder than I expect.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I growl.
She smirks. “Make me.”
Then she turns to Stone. “Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time.”
— — —
I watch them walk away. The moment they disappear down the corridor, my phone buzzes in my hand. I clench it tight, resisting the urge to throw it at the wall.
“Well?” comes the voice on the other end.
I grit my teeth. “You were right. They’re both getting off the ship.”
There’s a pause. Then a low, satisfied hum. “Not surprising. Céline’s always been loyal to whatever pays best. I thought you’d have more to say about Stone, though. After what he pulled with Emilia.”
“I don’t care,” I mutter, turning away from the glass. “She’s irrelevant.”
The silence that follows is pleased. I can hear the smile in their voice when they speak again. “Maybe we should hold off on the articles for a bit. It’s getting a bit boring now, isn’t it?”
The line goes dead before I can answer.
When I get back to the suite, Becca’s on the bed, on a video call with Lolo and her nanny. Her face lights up when she sees me.
“Lolo, look— Daddy’s here! Zane, come say hi—”
“Busy.” I brush past and head straight for the balcony, sliding the door shut harder than I mean to.
Outside, the wind’s cooler. The sea below glitters, unbothered. I lean on the railing, jaw locked.
How long will it take, Calloway? How much more do I have to do before you finally see she’s nothing?
She’s not worth it, she’ll never be fucking worth it.
“Shit.”