I Accidentally become hockey captain’s fake fiancé

My head is trying to kill me.

That's the first thought when I wake up. The second is that my mouth tastes like I drank poison.

I'm definitely never drinking again.

I kept my eyes closed, trying to piece together last night. There was a party off campus. I went because I needed to stop thinking about Asher for five seconds. Stop replaying yesterday in my head, the eight hours of him crying on my shoulder about Vanessa dumping him, listening to him talk about how much he loved her, how he didn't understand what went wrong, whether he should try to win her back.

Eight hours of dying inside while the boy I've loved for three years sobbed over another girl.

I needed one night. One single night where I wasn't Asher Donovan's supportive best friend. Where I could stop pretending my heart wasn't breaking every time he said Vanessa's name.

So I went to that party and drank too much. Now I'm paying for it.

Everything after arriving is a blank slate. No memories. Nothing.

I force my eyes open and stare at the water-stained ceiling tiles of my dorm room. At least I made it back here. That's something.

I yawn and turn my head slowly, squinting against the sunlight coming through the blinds.

"Ahhh...!!" I suddenly scream, the sound ripping out of my throat.

I scramble backward so fast I fall off the mattress completely and hit the floor hard. Pain shoots through my hip and elbow but I barely feel it because there is a half-naked stranger tied to my bed with my yoga resistance bands.

The yoga resistance bands that I use for the workout videos I never actually finish.

Those bands are currently wrapped around a man's wrists, securing him to my bed frame.

He's terrifying and gorgeous in equal measure. Dark hair that looks like he's run his hands through it a thousand times. Sharp jaw covered in stubble. A body that's muscular and covered in tattoos, both arms, across his chest, disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. Everything about him screams danger.

And his eyes. God, his eyes. Dark, almost black, and currently glaring at me with fury that makes my skin prickle.

"Untie me. Now." He says, his voice is rough and cold.

I can't move. Can't breathe. Can't process what I'm seeing.

Who is this man? How did he get into my locked dorm room? Why is he tied up? Did I do this? I must have done this but I have zero memory of it and that's somehow more terrifying than waking up to find him here. What the fuck did I do last night?

"I said untie me." Each word comes out sharper, and more dangerous.

My hands shake as I push myself up from the floor. I need to think, figure out what's happening. But my brain won't cooperate.

Maya. Where's Maya?

Oh that's right, she went home for the weekend and won't be back until tomorrow night.

I'm completely alone with this strange man and his kinky ways.

"I don't..." My voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again. "I don't understand what's happening."

"You can understand after you untie me," he says through gritted teeth. His jaw is so tight I can see the muscle jumping. "Before I lose what's left of my patience."

There's a threat in those words

I take one shaky step toward the bed. Then stop.

What if he attacks me the second he's free? What if this is some kind of setup? What if I untie him and he...

"Who are you?" I finally decided to ask.

His eyes narrow. "Someone who's going to be very fucking angry in about ten seconds if you don't untie me right now."

His words send a shiver down my spine. Everything in me is screaming to run, to get out of this room, to find help. But I'm frozen between the door and the bed, unable to make my body do anything useful.

"How did you get in here?" I need answers before I do anything. "How did you.."

My dorm room door suddenly crashes open.

I spin around fast.

Three men in expensive suits burst into my tiny dorm room. They're massive, built like linebackers. They looked like they could snap a person in half without even breaking a sweat.

Plus I could see guns, actual guns in holsters under their suit jackets.

My heart stops completely.

I open my mouth to scream for help.

"Gentlemen."

The tied-up man's voice cuts through the room like a knife, the three armed men stop in their tracks and look at him.

"As you can see," he continues, voice steady and unconcerned despite being completely vulnerable, "I'm a bit occupied with my fiancée. Give us some privacy."

Fiancée?

One of the suited men looks between the tied-up man and me. His eyes travel over the resistance bands, the man's state of undress, my pajamas and messy hair. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across his face.

"Didn't know you were into that kind of thing, boss."

Boss?

"Everyone has their preferences," the man says smoothly, like this is a perfectly normal situation. "Now get out."

The three men exchange glances, some kind of silent communication passing between them.

Then they actually turn around and leave.

Just like that.

The door closes with a soft click.

I stare at it and slowly turn to face the man on my bed again.

"What the fuck did you mean, calling me your fiancee?!"