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

CHAPTER TWENTY

O skar

I try to focus on my work, but Daniela’s gaze keeps pulling me from the spreadsheet on my screen. Finally, she flashes me a smile that hovers somewhere between conspiratorial and predatory. “I’ve just arranged an interview for you for tomorrow.”

“Seriously?”

“We need to get ahead of this story, Oskar. We need to control the narrative, not whatever assumptions they have.”

“Yeah.”

“People are already saying that you and Dmitri have a green card marriage, Oskar.”

“They are?”

“People can put two and two together. Everyone knew about his visa issues. His agent made national news, and Dmitri is sort of the poster boy for his former agent’s incompetence.”

I blink rapidly. “Right.”

“He’s worth ruining your professional and personal reputation for?” She leans forward, her eyes sharp. “I recommend you and Dmitri practice explaining your love story. And make it realistic.”

“Sure. No problem.”

“Because it really happened.”

“Totally.” I blink multiple times and scratch my nose.

Daniela shakes her head. “You’re a bad liar, Oskar.”

“Not something I ever thought my boss would bring up as a negative quality at work.”

A knock interrupts us, and I brace myself for Pappa to appear with his latest critique. Instead, Dmitri fills the doorway. He strides to my desk and places a coffee cup before me. “Here you go, husband.”

“Thank you.” I grip the coffee thankfully. It’s warm which is super important in January, but the best thing is the scent of white chocolate that inundates my nostrils.

“My favorite,” I murmur.

Dmitri’s eyes soften. “I know.”

The printer starts to whirr, then Daniela hands us both printed papers with a flourish. “Here are some potential questions. Get Dmitri to go over it with you tonight. You need to have some answers.”

I glance at the page. “Where was our first date?”

Daniela nods.

“And where was our first kiss?”

“Hard to answer if you haven’t kissed him before.”

“Of course we’ve kissed,” Dmitri says.

“You have?” Daniela’s eyes widen.

“A husband kisses his husband,” Dmitri says.

Daniela opens her mouth, then shuts it. Finally, she smiles. “I guess he does.”

“We have pictures as proof,” I add.

Daniela’s face hardens. “And that’s the sort of statement you should not be making to the journalist.”

Even my white chocolate mocha has not succeeded in keeping my throat from going dry.

I feel Dmitri’s gaze, then he takes my hand in his and squeezes it. I guess he’s doing it to comfort me, but when he moves his fingers, it’s not to move away, but to link his fingers with mine.

He takes the sheet Daniela printed and scans it. “We’ll go over everything tonight.”

Then he unravels himself from my grip, because of course, that was the plan all along. He folds the sheet and gives it to me. “Take care of it.” Then he frowns, and I’m not sure what he’s thinking. My heartbeat escalates, because the only expression I want on his face is a smile. Then he kisses my cheek. “See you later, honey.”

My eyes must be wide, because he grins.

He clears his throat, then nudges my foot with his. “You’re supposed to say something.”

“I am?”

His eyebrow does one of those climbing things. “You are.”

Realization moves through me. “See you later, baby.”

He grins, then leaves the room, walking backwards until he reaches the door and slips out.

The door clicks shut.

“That would have been totally cute if I didn’t know you were headed straight for Heartbreakville.”

‘That’s not a place, Daniela.”

“You’re going to be there soon.”

I want to tell her she’s wrong, but of course I can’t. From the smug look she gives me, she knows she’s right.

God. I’ve broken Rule # Super Important about being gay: don’t fall in love with a straight man.

I avoid eye contact and sit down. The screen blurs together, and I can still feel the spot where Dmitri pressed his lips against my cheek.