{"id":260054,"date":"2026-07-13T17:25:38","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T14:25:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/fake-dating-my-exs-hockey-star-brothe-maya-scott\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T17:25:38","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T14:25:38","slug":"fake-dating-my-exs-hockey-star-brothe-maya-scott","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/fake-dating-my-exs-hockey-star-brothe-maya-scott\/","title":{"rendered":"Fake Dating My Exs Hockey Star Brothe – Maya Scott"},"content":{"rendered":"
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One by one she pulls things out, glances at them, and tosses them onto the bed. \u201cIs this even a dress?\u201d She mutters, tossing one of my favorite gowns. I cross my arms, glaring at the growing pile. \u201cYou know, you\u2019re kind of a bad stylist.\u201d She doesn\u2019t even look up. \u201cSays the girl wearing that to a college party.\u201d I want to argue, but I can\u2019t because she looks unfairly good in her ripped jeans, crop top, and leather jacket.<\/p>\n

Her whole look screams confidence while mine is more\u2026 librarian who got lost at a biker bar. Allie goes through half my wardrobe before she finally spins around, hands on her hips. \u201cDon\u2019t you have anything that even pretends to be party- appropriate?\u201d \u201cYou know I don\u2019t party,\u201d I shoot back, grabbing the clothes she tossed and shoving them back into the wardrobe.<\/p>\n

I gesture at myself. \u201cAnd what\u2019s so bad about this one?\u201d \u201cUmm, let\u2019s see\u2026\u201d She taps her chin. \u201cThe skirt is too long for a leather skirt.\u201d \u201cExcuse me, it\u2019s above my knees.\u201d \u201cYou\u2019re wearing a top that has too busy to care written on it. And that jacket?\u201d She points at it. \u201cMy great-aunt from two hundred years ago has that jacket.\u201d<\/p>\n

I groan, peel the jacket off, and toss it onto the bed with way more force than necessary. \u201cI quit. Forget it. I\u2019m not going to this thing.\u201d She glares at me. \u201cThe hell you\u2019re not. Get up. I\u2019ll grab something from my closet.\u201d \u201cNope.\u201d I wave both hands. \u201cThere\u2019s no way.\u201d And it\u2019s not just because I\u2019m a few pounds bigger than her, but it\u2019s also because Allie owns exactly zero pieces of clothing that can be called decent.<\/p>\n

Sometimes I seriously wonder how we ended up best friends when we\u2019re walking opposites. She ignores me completely, grabs my arm, and yanks me up. \u201cOn your feet, young lady!\u201d \u201cHow did you even get invited?\u201d I groan, struggling against her grip. \u201cI get invited to everything,\u201d she says proudly, already dragging me toward her room. But just as she\u2019s about to shove me inside, a knock rattles the front door. \u201cPeach.\u201d We both freeze. Our heads turn at the same time.<\/p>\n

Braydon\u2019s here? Already? He said he wasn\u2019t coming for another hour. Allie drops my arm, smooths her shirt like she hasn\u2019t just been manhandling me, and then struts over to open the door. \u201cYou\u2019re early,\u201d she says, tilting her head with mock annoyance as she lets him in. \u201cYeah, I\u2014\u201d Braydon\u2019s words cut short when his gaze finds me.<\/p>\n

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. OceanofPDF.com For everyone who\u2019s ever kissed someone they weren\u2019t supposed to\u2026and loved every second. OceanofPDF.com Contents 1. Katy 2. Braydon 3. Katy 4. Katy 5. Katy 6. Katy 7. Katy 8. Katy 9. Katy 10. Katy 11. Katy 12. Katy 13. Katy 14. Katy 15.<\/p>\n

Braydon 16. Braydon 17. Katy 18. Katy 19. Katy 20. Katy 21. Katy 22. Katy 23. Katy 24. Katy 25. Katy 26. Braydon 27. Braydon 28. Katy 29. Katy 30. Katy 31. Katy 32. Katy 33. Braydon 34. Katy 35. Katy 36. Braydon 37. Katy 38. Katy 39. Katy 40. Braydon 41. Katy 42. Katy 43. Braydon 44. Braydon 45.<\/p>\n

Katy OceanofPDF.com One Katy \u201cHEY, I\u2019M HEADING OVER now. Can you bring out the books I left?\u201d I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan\u2019s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend\u2019s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there\u2019s nothing.<\/p>\n

Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it\u2018s unlikely. It\u2019s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn\u2019t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip.<\/p>\n

The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn\u2019t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I\u2019m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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