Heart of Thorns (Shadow Valley U Book 2)
Heart of Thorns: Chapter 11

I crinkle the piece of paper into a ball and drop it by my feet. My hockey stick feels foreign in my hands. It’s been so long since I’ve touched skate to ice.

This doesn’t even come close to playing hockey, but it still feels good. I swing my stick and send the wad of notebook paper flying into the trash can.

Lydia claps. “Nice.”

I smile.

“What’s got you so… cheery? You’ve got energy tonight. Was it the football game? Gave you some school spirit?”

I laugh, but it’s sarcastic.

I rest my stick against the wall and slump onto the couch. My notebook is under lock and key in my tight grip. Lydia already thinks I’m half nuts. If she knew I was writing a pro and cons list regarding a fake relationship with Shadow Valley’s quarterback, she’ll think I’ve lost my fucking mind.

Maybe I have.

My last relationship ended shortly after the fire, and the breakup was brutal. I swore I’d never date another footballer for the rest of my life, and yet…

Thorne’s face appears in my mind.

The angles of his high cheekbones and the golden flakes in his eyes. They’re warm and sort of… comforting?

After I came to in the locker room and saw his face, my panic was swept away instantly.

Not only was fainting unusual, but the feeling he gave me was too.

I’m weirdly comfortable with him.

Not comfortable enough to tell him that I was in the weight room to spy on his teammates but comfortable enough to consider fake-dating him.

That’s all I’m doing.

Considering it.

“Is that your shirt?”

I glance down to Thorne’s shirt, and my heart beats a little faster. My fingers clamp on to the notebook even harder. “Did you know that the men’s locker room has a state-of-the-art training room attached?”

Lydia scoffs. “No, but I’m not surprised. They’re the favorites.”

I sit up a little taller on the couch. “I want to train.”

Lydia eyes me cautiously, and bless her soul for keeping her gaze focused on my face instead of dropping to my derelict leg. “Train?”

This is wonderful practice for when I tell my parents that I haven’t given up hockey like they assume. I nod at my roommate. Her expression remains even, but I recognize the pity in her blue eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

My pulse races. “I want to strengthen my leg and play hockey again.”

“But—”

I interrupt her. “I know what the trainers have said,” And I know what everyone will think if I tell them that I’m training to get back on the ice. “But if I train the right way, I know I can do it.”

Lydia paces the living room. She has her thinking face on. The one she wears when she’s studying. “How are you going to do this? I thought your parents put an end to physical therapy?”

They did.

They stopped paying for it because the therapist said I’d likely always have a limp and that I’d never play hockey again. Even with my measly earnings from commissioned paint jobs, I can’t afford private sessions so I haven’t had physical therapy in months. Exercises at home aren’t enough, I need more.

This isn’t all about playing hockey again either. The fear that secretly resides in the back of my head is that much worse with a body that doesn’t move as fast as it used to. What if I get trapped somewhere again and can’t move quickly? Or what if my arsonist finds out that I’m digging into him and comes to finish the job? How will I fight back or get away?

“I’m going to use the men’s facilities,” I say.

Lydia stops pacing. Her hands fly to her hips. “What? How?”

I shrug. “I’ve got an in.”

She purses her lips. “An in?”

My nod gets cut short with her gasp.

“Oh my God. Don’t tell me you took Ben back.”

The disgust on my face sends her shoulders down to their rightful spot. “It’ll be a cold day in Hell if I ever get back with him.”

Lydia flops on the couch beside me. Her hand falls to her heart. “Oh, thank God. Plus, I heard that he was working his way through the volleyball team.”

I roll my eyes. That thought would have stung a month ago, but now, I’m onto bigger and better things.

Like a fake relationship with the captain of the football team, a way to strengthen my leg behind the scenes without anyone dismissing me, and the best part of all? I’ll get insider information on the football team.

One way or another—I’m going to feel safe again whether that means I’m strong and able to fight or flee when needed or I put a name to the person who’s responsible.

All Thorne needs is a fake girlfriend to parade in front of his parents and dutiful girls who they want to set him up with?

Easy-peasy.

I don’t have to trust him.

I just have to act like I’m in love with him.

That shouldn’t be too hard, right?

“So if it’s not Ben who’s your in, who is it? Or what is it?”

I smash my lips and turn toward Lydia. We’re not the best of friends, but after living with her for several months, I know she’s trustworthy. She also gets brownie points for not automatically discouraging me from wanting to play hockey again.

“Thorne.”

His name feels funny falling from my lips. My stomach dips, and I don’t know why.

Lydia’s eyes widen. “Cassius Thorne?”

A laugh erupts from my mouth. “Cassius? That’s his real name?”

“Cassius Remington Thorne the third, actually.” Lydia shrugs. “I heard his name get called in class once. He turned fifteen shades of red and angrily corrected our professor.” She clears her throat and deepens her voice. “I go by Thorne.”

I laugh again with her reenactment, which she seems surprised by. Since moving in together, we have never sat on the couch laughing, and just like the Queen herself quotes, It’s me… I’m the problem, it’s me.

“Oh, I cannot wait to call him by his first name,” I say through laughter.

“So… are you two friends?” she asks.

Friends? Not a chance. Up until a few hours ago, I hated him.

I nibble on my fingernail. I can say goodbye to the three minutes of normalcy between Lydia and me because after I tell her of my plan, she’s going to go right back to thinking I’ve lost my mind.

“He’s going to train me in exchange…” I let my words trail. I think I have lost my mind.

Lydia leans in. “Exchange for… do not tell me it’s for sex.”

“No!”

Her warm, pizza-scented breath fills the tiny space between us. “Thank God.”

I quickly blurt out the rest of Thorne’s plan. “He wants me to act like his girlfriend.”

“What?” Lydia stands abruptly and paces again. She’s furiously typing a text message.

I panic and climb to stand. “What are you doing?”

“Calling in reinforcements because you’re insane.” She says this without pulling her attention from her phone.

“Reinforcements?” My pulse pounds. “If men in the white coats show up to take me to the psych ward…” I’m only half joking.

Lydia smiles while typing. “You are insane, but it’s admirable as hell. I’m texting Marley.”

I sigh. “You’re going to try to talk me out of this, aren’t you?”

To them, they think I’m just trying to play hockey again.

But to me, it’s so much more. I just can’t find it in myself to tell them the full truth. Only a handful of people know that someone trapped me in that building. Telling them will only make the pity heavier and their fear palpable.

Lydia clicks her phone off and stares at me from across the room. Her lips turn up at the corners, and she shakes her head. “I want you back on the team, Hart. I’m not talking you out of anything.”