Bound and Blitzed (Knoxville Coyotes Football #4)

5. Avery

Chapter 5

Avery

The second the hot brew hits my tongue, I feel more awake. More prepared to do battle with this interesting, bewildering, beautiful creature studying the various types of syrups across from me.

We place our orders, have coffees in hand, and are seated in a quiet corner of my favorite pancake house. From experience, I know the place will be hopping by 10:30 a.m., but at 9:19 in the morning, it’s still relatively empty.

“Okay, Valentina,” I say, “lay it on me.”

She squares her shoulders and glances at her purse. It’s clear she wants to pull out the notebook I saw her stuff inside before we left her condo. No doubt she’s created a pros and cons list and has deliberated a slew of important points. I wait for her to decide and am pleasantly surprised when she forgoes her notes and instead, wraps her hands around the steaming mug of coffee and leans closer over the table.

“If we do this…” She lowers her voice. “ Get married , we’re committing a felony. It’s a sham marriage and we can be criminally charged.”

I nod. I had considered this and yet, “I don’t think it will come to that.”

“You don’t think?” Valentina’s eyes widen. “Avery, you could go to prison.”

God, she’s cute when she’s flustered. As a man who has been on the receiving end of many women’s anger and frustration, none of them have ever looked so concerned for me as Valentina does. “If we do this, we’ll do it right, and there won’t be any need to worry.”

“Do it right? What does that mean?”

“We’ll need to date. Live together. You show up to my games and I come to your speaking engagements or university events. My parents will expect you to come to family dinners and…” I pause as a new idea sparks in my mind. “You’ll most likely get roped into weighing in on Raia’s wedding plans.”

Valentina gasps, a hand covering her mouth. It’s as if she only considered the legal implications of our marriage and not the…practical ones. I fight back a grin, knowing that making light of this moment will not bode well. “Didn’t think of those things, did you?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. Her fingers tremble slightly as she lifts her coffee to her lips and takes a long sip. “I was caught up on the legal process that… I don’t think this is a good idea,” she murmurs, blowing on her coffee. “I can’t believe we’re even considering this.” Her eyes fly back to mine. “I should just go home. My parents will be thrilled and…this research, no one in my family really understands it anyway.” She gives me a watery smile. “I’m sorry I wasted your time, Avery. I’m so embarrassed for…” She trails off, moving to stand from her chair.

“Wait.” I reach out to grasp her wrist. Valentina remains seated. Her eyes are more green than blue, apologetic and regretful. “Let’s talk about this, Lena,” I say, the shortening of her name falling naturally from my lips. “Let’s…talk.”

She pulls in a breath and stares at me for a long beat. “No one calls me Lena.”

“No?” I frown. “You don’t like it?”

She shakes her head. “No, I mean, I do like it. It’s just…my family calls me Vale. But vale also means okay, or all right, in Spanish.”

“That’s confusing,” I remark.

She smiles lightly. “I like Lena.”

“Good.”

She takes a deep breath. Then, she asks the question I’ve been waiting for since I first knocked on her door this morning. “Why are you offering this? I don’t understand, Avery. What’s in it for you?”

I roll my lips together, considering my next words carefully. God knows I’ve thought of them on a loop since I first offered Valentina marriage.

At first, a flicker of panic burst through me and I wanted to take them back. But the surprise in Valentina’s face, the flare of hope in her eyes, made me bite my tongue.

And after tossing and turning all night, looking at the situation from all angles, considering various options and variables, I no longer want to rescind my offer.

Instead, I want her to say yes.

I clear my throat, feeling foolish but also knowing I need to give her the truth. My truth. “You got time?”

She smirks, some of the tension releasing from her shoulders. She leans back in her chair, picks up her coffee mug, and arches an eyebrow, waiting for me to begin.

“I’ve had one serious relationship in my life. Her name is Mila Lewis, and I started dating her my sophomore year of high school. She’s a great woman—beautiful, smart, sophisticated.”

As clouds pass over Valentina’s expression, I add, “She’s happily married now, living in San Jose with her husband. He’s a hockey player. Maybe you’ve heard of him? Devon Hardt.”

A flicker of recognition lights in Valentina’s eyes and she nods. “You miss her?”

“No,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Man, I’m already mucking this up. What happened is, as the years started to stack up, I knew I wasn’t ready for marriage. I was playing for the Coyotes and Mila was working as the team’s physical therapist. Our friend group was intertwined. Hell, Cohen is still really good friends with her. Our families all had expectations of my impending proposal. And the pressure started to mount. I wanted to experience other things.”

“Other women,” Valentina supplies.

“As part of it, yes,” I admit. “I wanted to date. Not feel guilty for going out with my friends or with the team after a win. I wanted…freedom, I guess. I was planning to end things with Mila when a horrible accident happened, and she lost both her parents.”

“Oh, God,” Valentina gasps. Her hand flies back up to cover her mouth. It’s a story that nearly every inhabitant of this city knows, remembers. But because Lena isn’t from here, she wouldn’t have heard it. She wouldn’t recall the aftermath that still fills me with shame.

“I tried to stick it out with Mila. To be there for her.” I shake my head. “She was sad, of course. Depressed and struggling. And I… My heart wasn’t in it. I stopped showing up for her. I started sneaking around with other women. I… Fuck, Lena, I broke her heart, tarnished her reputation, and hurt her when she was just trying to survive.”

Valentina is quiet. She’s studying me with an intensity that makes me want to squirm. I lock down my limbs and meet her gaze head-on. It feels important, telling her everything upfront. Not shifting under her scrutiny. It feels like growth and even though it’s uncomfortable as hell, I know I deserve it.

“Then what happened?” she asks quietly.

“Then, I fucked off. Everyone thinks I ruined Mila’s reputation while mine somehow remained unscathed, but that’s bullshit. I mean, I did hurt her reputation. She lost her job because of me.”

Valentina winces.

“There was too much tension, a conflict of interest.” I flick my wrist to indicate there was more. “I came out on the other side as the champion quarterback. Sexiest Man Alive. Super Bowl winner,” I rattle off accomplishments that don’t fill me with the sense of pride I thought they would. “But it’s my reputation that is truly ruined. No one fully trusts me. They cheer me on because I can throw a football now. Not because they respect or admire me as a man. And the more I understood that, the more I lashed out. Partying, women, no consequences.”

Valentina watches me, her expression carefully neutral. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, so I forge ahead.

“I don’t want to be that man. I haven’t for a long time. And I’ve been working on it, on myself, for the past few years. I made peace with Mila. I tried to help Raia and Cohen find their way back to each other when they nearly broke up. I show up for my team and try to be the leader they need me to be. But…I want more, Lena. And I know after everything I just said, you probably won’t believe me, but I swear to you, I can be that man for you. If given the chance, I won’t stray. I won’t fuck around or fuck off. I’ll show up; I’ll be your constant.”

“But what’s in it for you?” she repeats, still looking bewildered.

“The opportunity to prove to myself that I can be the right kind of man. One my grandpa and dad can be proud of. The kind of man people admire for more than football.”

Valentina pushes out a deep exhale, her cheeks puffing out. She seems to consider this for a beat before saying simply, “I believe you, Avery.”

I tilt my head, calling her bluff.

“You just did your confession and it’s as if you want penance. Any man willing to put himself in that position is being honest. At least, I know you mean your words. We will have to wait to see how you do with your actions.”

“I won’t hurt you,” I swear.

“But you won’t love me either,” she whispers. And then, her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“It’s okay. We should be honest. I don’t know about love. I don’t know if I’m capable of it. Hell, I don’t think I was truly in love with Mila. If I was, I wouldn’t have cheated on her, and she’s the only woman I’ve ever had a real romantic relationship with.”

“You’re capable of it, Avery. We all are,” Valentina replies. “I just never imagined getting married without being in love. It’s…something to wrap my head around I guess.”

“Yeah,” I say, understanding where she’s coming from. “I can promise you my friendship, my honesty, my home, and my family and passport.”

“You’re really serious. You would do this.”

“For you and for me.”

“Wow, okay,” she murmurs. “I can offer you my friendship, my honesty, my overbearing family, and my terrible cooking.”

I grin. “Sounds perfect.”

Valentina laughs, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. “How do we tell people? No one will believe it.”

“I have an idea but it’s truly awful,” I offer.

She lifts an eyebrow.

“We’re going to have to lie. To a lot of people,” I say slowly.

She winces. “Tell me.”

“We get married in secret and we don’t tell anyone. Instead, we let our families, our friends, think we’re dating and it’s getting serious quickly. You’ll move in with me or I’ll move in with you.” I shrug. It hardly matters which, it’s only two floors difference. “And after a few months, when I propose, our families and friends will think we fell quickly and had a whirlwind romance, and our marriage will be believable even though we’re already married.”

“But the timing won’t match up with my paperwork,” she points out.

“Do you think a few months will matter?”

“For your country’s immigration department? Yes.”

“Right.” I sigh. “A pregnancy scare?”

She gives me a withering look.

“Okay, okay.” I hold up my hands. “Do you have plans this week?”

“No, not really.”

I grin. “As I said, I have a bye week. I’m off.”

“Okay.”

“Want to go on a five-day first date?”

“What?” she nearly laughs.

“Picture this. We hit it off after Raia and Cohen’s engagement party and spent the night together.”

Valentina pales.

“Then I whisked you away on holiday and we spent a week together. At the end, we eloped.” I shrug. “It’s hardly conventional but if we sell it, I think people will buy it. On some level, my parents are desperate for me to settle down. My friends have been ribbing me for years about having a flavor of the week but deep down, they think that when I fall, I’ll fall hard and fast.”

“And they’ll believe you fell for me?” Valentina asks skeptically, pointing at herself.

I look at her with her big, bright eyes and beautiful smile. Her sharp mind and burning curiosity. “In a heartbeat,” I promise. “They’ll be wondering how the hell you reciprocated.”