Rule #3: Never Fake Marry the Coach’s Son (Hockey Rules #3)

CHAPTER FIVE

D mitri

Oskar’s eyes widen, his long lashes flicking up. His pink lips drop somewhere to the floor.

Then he starts to giggle. Peals of angel laughter flutter through the kitchen, bouncing over the subway backsplash to the narrow, specially ordered dishwasher, and the exposed brick wall. His silky blond hair gleams as he moves, his long neck tilting back like he’s sharing his glee with the heavens.

Appropriate behavior for any angel.

My shoulders relax. My stomach settles. My heart slows.

“For a moment there...” He laughs again, and I laugh with him, relief moving through me. I thought he’d be angrier.

But then this is Oskar.

He snorts, then he puts the full force of his blue eyes on me. “What are we really doing?”

My throat dries. “I told you.”

“But—” He swallows hard, and he presses his lips, now paler than before, together.

“We’re going to Vegas,” I repeat. “To get married. Will you marry me, Oskar?”

Uncertainty moves through me.

He might say no.

I thrust away the intrusive thought in my mind. That’s like thinking that we might lose our next game or next three games or our next ten games.

Technically possible, but nothing worth thinking about.

“You’re not serious,” he says.

“I need a green card,” I explain, speaking slowly and enunciating like they taught us in English class. I want there to be no mistake with my accent.

“So you want to marry me?”

I nod.

“But I’m...” His face pinkens. Colors I don’t normally see speckle his cheeks. His pupils dilate. “I’m...”

“Yes?”

He gestures to himself, jerking his hand toward his torso, his narrow wrist moving. “A man.”

“I know biology, Oskar.”

He licks his lips. “Um. Yes. But you’re not—” He wrinkles his brow, and there’s something adorable in the way he does it. He opens his mouth again. “You’re a...” He shuts his mouth, then tries again. “But you’re straight?”

His voice rises at the end, like a question, and his cheeks turn even pinker. I frown.

I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.

“You are gay. You shouldn’t panic at the thought of marrying a man. Someday you will marry a man.”

“It seems you want that day to be today.”

“Yes.”

“But you like women.”

“Yes.”

“You could ask a woman to marry you. You could probably get someone to say yes.”

I blink. “Of course.” I frown at him. “I am excellent match, Oskar. I am millionaire hockey player on television.”

His eyes go funny.

“And good looking,” I add. “Teeth in place.”

“You’d still look handsome without your teeth,” he says, then his eyes widen. “I just mean because you can get them fixed and things. So don’t, um, stress about that.”

“Of course I would still look handsome without my teeth.”

I don’t think that’s something that might make him question whether or not to marry me, but best to not give him any reasons to say no.

“Pack,” I say.

“But—”

“Flight leaves. We get on it. Planes don’t wait, Oskar.”

He rakes a trembling hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m aware of that.”

“Of course. You make transportation bookings. Is difficult job. Many flights. Many players. Need to make good bookings.”

He nods, his look somewhat glazed. His eyes drift to my mouth. Maybe he’s trying to imagine what it would be like if I had fewer teeth.

I wish Luke had had more topics of conversation to discuss when he was on his dating show last month than teeth and hockey injuries, but I suppose he was more distracted by the host than the female contestants.

I give Oskar another nod. “Now, Oskar.”

“We need to talk about it—”

“We can,” I say. “On way to airport. I don’t want to miss our wedding.”

He swallows hard. His gaze flits around my face, and I sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” His voice is squeaky, and his eyes

“I forgot to make you coffee,” I apologize. “Brain processing is slow without it.”

He frowns. “My brain processes...fine.”

“I help you pack.” I march toward his background, conscious of his feet pattering behind me. He’s lighter than me, but I still hear every footstep over the hardwood floor.

I open the door to his bedroom, and my gaze falls on his bed. A stuffed bear is in the middle, and my eyes widen.

“That’s, um—” He wets his lips.

“Your bedtime companion?”

He slinks back as if he thinks I’ll hate it.

“Bears are good companions,” I say solemnly. “Very tough. Good protectors.”

I pick up the bear. It’s brown and worn, and I realize that this wasn’t bought at a gift shop in Yellowstone as a joke. I imagine younger versions of Oskar grabbing it. Caring for it.

I find myself grinning.

I turn to Oskar’s blushing face. I set down the bear on the bed. “Where is suitcase?”

He points toward the closet, and I grab a silver hard-cased carry-on from the top shelf and unzip it.

He blinks.

“Need suit. Marriage is serious.”

“But we’re not serious, Dmitri,” Oskar says. “You’re not gay. Or bisexual. Or pansexual.”

I blink. “I am serious person too, Oskar. I will be good husband. Until I get green card. Then we divorce.”

“You’ve researched it?” he asks faintly.

I nod. “Shouldn’t have trusted my agent. Would have done a better job myself.”

“I’m so sorry about that.” Oskar inhales. “But I can’t marry you.”

I halt. Molasses trudges through my body, making each limb lifeless.

I worried he’d say no. I told myself he’d say yes.

“Why?” My voice is hoarse. Molasses effect vocal cords too.

“It’s not right.”

“Am your best friend. Don’t best friends help each other?”

“I-I didn’t know you considered me your best friend.”

My jaw drops. “We spend all our time together! Is not that best friend relationship?” My spine straightens. I narrow the distance between us. “You have other best friend? Someone not on team?” I swing my gaze around. “A neighbor?”

“No.” He backs away. “No. I don’t spend time with anyone outside the team.”

Something in my chest loosens.

I toss Oskar’s suit into his suitcase, then add pajamas and briefs. My fingers tingle, but that’s probably because he’s staring at me like I’m crazy. At least he’s no longer protesting.

Though maybe he’s frozen from shock.

I tilt my head to him. “We marry. I stay in country. We still hang out. And you don’t have boyfriend, so no jealousy. Finn and Noah are already married to each other. Luke has boyfriend. I cannot marry him. Must be you.”

Oskar blinks.

Finally, he grins. “Yeah, you’re right. Sebastian would kill you if you married Luke. Poison you at the first opportunity.”

I shudder. “Then Oskar, what do you say, it’s that or me poisoning? I hear poisoning is painful.”

“Bad dreams for the rest of your life, then you die.”

“You wouldn’t want that for me.”

He shakes his head, his eyes soft.

I take the bear and put it in the suitcase.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Is just overnight trip, Oskar” I say. “I don’t want you to be lonely.” I smile. “They put big beds in our suite. California King. Extra wide.”

“Oh. Space for both of us.”

“Space for you and the bear. I have my own room.”

“Right. Of course.” He blinks, and his cheeks pinken more. I wonder if there’s a vitamin deficiency that causes frequent blushes. Lately, Oskar seems to be suffering more from it. Maybe I can ask Finn. He talks about vitamins on his social media channel a lot.

I zip up the suitcase then carry it from the room, Oskar trailing after me. I type into my phone and book a ride-share for the airport.

Oskar still looks stunned. I enter his bathroom and remove his toiletries, grabbing the pomade he likes. I knew he was going to forget it.

“You want to pack your laptop?” I ask.

“I guess.”

“Is good for watching movies.”

“Yeah.”

He scurries away, finally packing something himself.

I then take his shoes from the shoe cupboard, kneel down, and put them on him. I stop and grab his dress shoes. “And fancy shoes for the wedding.”

“I’ll, um, get a plastic bag.” He scurries away, still looking bewildered as I order a car.

“Is okay,” I say. “Is overwhelming news. I only just found out too.”

He snorts, and when he reappears, I take his things and lead him to the waiting car.