Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Colton
The grass looks unreal. Too green, too even—like Riley’s paying way too much money to keep it that way. Livy doesn’t notice any of it. The second she spots the playground behind the house, she’s gone—running straight toward Rory, who’s already climbing his pirate tower.
I watch her for a second, then glance over.
Jenna’s right next to me. Closer than she needs to be. Close enough that if one of us moved even a little, our hands would touch.
We don’t. But it’s… noticeable. The space, I mean. Like we’re both aware of it and just choosing to ignore it. Which would be easier if I wasn’t so aware of her in general.
Even after that shower, my body betrayed me the second she stepped out onto the porch.
She’s wearing this yellow summer dress with tiny pink flowers scattered across it, her red hair twisted up into a knot that shows off her pretty neck.
I can’t decide where to look—her face, the thirty-two freckles, the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, her perky boobs, or the way her dress shows how her butt curves with nothing left to the imagination.
My eyes keep jumping around, like they can’t settle on one perfect thing.
This isn’t just about that kiss anymore, or the marriage certificate with both our names on it.
Something’s shifted. Every time she laughs, every time she moves, I feel it like a physical pull.
It’s like some primal part of my brain has decided she’s mine now, and it won’t let me forget it for a second.
But then there’s this thought again. The tiny thought that somehow makes me proud and even more horny at the same time.
She really is my wife.
My stupid cock twitches and I want to kill it.
“Your daughter moves like a hockey player,” Jenna says.
“Good balance.” I nod, grateful for the neutral topic. Just don’t smile at me, please. I don’t know what I’ll do if she does. “Strong legs.”
“She doesn’t get the grace from you, that’s for sure.”
Since the kiss, there’s been a cautiousness between us—a new layer of awkwardness. It’s throwing me off balance more than any body check ever could.
The garden stretches out before us, transformed by string lights that crisscross over our heads. The air smells like honeysuckle and expensive wine. Riley and Liora have gone all out. They like to have parties and invite their friends.
I spot them across the lawn—Riley’s tall figure easy to pick out even in a crowd, Liora beside him in a blue flowing dress—both of them laughing at something Jay is saying.
Jay’s our assistant coach now.
He’ suffered from a very bad injury last year. We almost lost him twice. First because of the severe crash, and second because he was so depressed from not being able to play hockey that he almost drowned himself in alcohol.
His girlfriend and Riley’s sister Rosalie saved him, and we all couldn’t thank her enough for it.
Now he laughs like nothing happened, his hand intertwined in hers as he gives her little kisses on her shoulder.
Next to them sits Priya. She’s Liora’s best friend and a professional figure skater.
She waves the minute she sees us, her dark falling long over her shoulders that matches her skin.
And that’s about it. My team. My inner circle. The closest thing to family I have in America besides my parents and Livy.
And now I’m bringing Jenna in. And it’s all fake…
“Nervous?” Jenna asks quietly, seeming to read my thoughts.
I roll my shoulders back, standing a little straighter. “No.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. She’s gotten too good at spotting my tells. “Colton.”
“Maybe,” I admit. “These people... they matter. And they know something is up, otherwise they wouldn’t have invited us today. It feels like an intervention.”
She nods once. “Yeah, but Ethan said we should tell them all, so they can help us. This feels like a good opportunity.” That’s why she said yes to coming along. She doesn’t have to play my wife when it’s not for show. The media already ate it up.
As we approach the table, every eye turns our way. Jenna’s hand brushes against mine but I’m back to my usual self. The one that doesn’t really speak. The reserved Russian.
“There they are!” Riley exclaims, smiling as always. Like he’s on a toothpaste commercial. He pulls Jenna into an unexpected hug. “The woman who finally got our Russian bear to settle down.”
I watch Jenna carefully, wondering if she’ll flinch at the sudden contact. Instead, she laughs—a real laugh, not the tight professional one she uses in meetings—and hugs Riley back.
“So, you do know we’re married,” Jenna says.
“Well, it’s hard not to,” Jay groans from the table. “It’s all over the news and Colton didn’t text us back.”
“Like I said on the phone, we were advised not to.”
“And we can’t wait for you to explain that marriage,” Riley says with another way too big smile.
“I thought it would be the only way to win the case” Jenna says, eyes finding mine over Riley’s shoulder with a look that’s part amusement, part worried.
Yeah, we didn’t really have a lot of time to discuss all of it without the fuss.
The past few days were so busy. But I manage a crooked smile.
I don’t want her to feel bad about what she did.
She did it for us and I’m forever grateful for that.
I was just shocked but thanks to Ethan, we might get away with it.
We slip into the empty seats, and I notice right away that Jenna’s closer than necessary. Not by much, but enough that our arms brush. It shouldn’t matter. It really shouldn’t.
But it does.
That tiny bit of contact is distracting in a way I don’t love. Like it’s going to slowly drive me insane if I think about it too long—which, unfortunately, I am.
I wish I could be more like her. She acts like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t even register.
Meanwhile, I’m over here overanalyzing everything.
She probably still kind of hates me for what I did back in high school. And honestly… I get it. There’s something almost impressive about how unaffected she seems.
I just wish I felt half as steady.
Jay reaches across to shake my hand with our secret handshake. Yeah, we’re that idiotic. But Ethan’s right. Our team is full of idiots. “About time you brought her around, man. We read those articles and ’didn’t believe a thing Page Six wrote about you guys and then boom—You’re married.”
“Yes, spill the tea!” Rosalie says. Always straight forward.
“Relax, Rosie…” Riley says, rolling his eyes. “Colton ’hasn’t even gotten to drink a beer yet… I’m nosy too but let him take a breath first, okay.”
Riley gives me a beer and I nod, just as a thank you.
Jenna shifts slightly next to me. I never said it was going to be a chilled dinner…
“What would you like to drink? We’re having a barbecue but it’s going to be a bit,” Liora asks Jenna.
“A wine would be great.”
“Of course. Babe?” she grins up at Riley and he gives Jenna a glass, then when he sits at the table with us, he grins and raises his beer the minute he sits down. “To Mr. and Mrs. Kirillov,” he toasts, and laughter bubbles around the table.
I feel my jaw tighten. We’d agreed Jenna would keep her last name Davis for professional reasons. The paperwork says Davis-Kirillov—a hyphenated compromise for the marriage license. But hearing “Mrs. Kirillov” makes something twist in my chest. Something I don’t want to examine too closely.
“Actually,” Jenna corrects with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “I kept my name professionally. Davis-Kirillov is a bit much for court documents.”
“Smart woman,” Liora says, leaning forward with interest. “I’ll do the same when Riley and I get married. Our situation was... unconventional too at first. I don’t know if Colton told you.”
“I bet not,” Riley snorts, taking another sip. “Colton isn’t a chatterbox.”
“He didn’t, no,” Jenna says, looking at me.
I just mutter an apology.
“We started out fake too,” she says, like it’s no big deal. “PR reasons.”
She threads her fingers through Riley’s and looks up at him. “Best decision I ever made, though. Even if he drives me insane on a daily basis.”
Riley snorts, flicking her nose. “Right back at you, babe.” Then he leans in and kisses her—easy, practiced, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Which, apparently, it is.
Unfortunately, my brain decides this is the perfect moment to replay the way I kissed Jenna. There wasn’t a hint of normal in that kiss.
My hand tightens into a fist under the table.
“Let’s just say we understand… arrangements,” Liora adds carefully, glancing between us. “But it’s not exactly easy to pull off. You need to keep the show going the minute you step outside.”
“Yeah,” Jenna says, reaching for her wine like it’s doing her a favor. “We have to keep it up around Livy too.”
She looks at me then, like she’s waiting for me to say something.
I don’t.
Talking has never really been my thing unless it’s necessary. And right now, I’m not entirely sure what is necessary—except that whatever this is between us feels… different.
Too easy. Too familiar.
Too much like something I don’t want to name.
“What I’m saying,” Liora continues. “Is your secret’s safe with us. However, this started—we get it.”
“Obviously,” Rosie adds, while Jay and Priya nod along.
“We’re not telling anyone,” Priya says.
“Thank you,” Jenna says quietly. There’s something real in her voice that makes me glance at her again. Mistake. Too pretty. My hand aches to touch hers and I look away.
“But I hope Ethan was able to help you,” Riley says. “He helps us a lot.”
“Us too,” Jay says and makes a face as if we’re all just a failed crew. Yeah, we need Ethan to babysit us fools.
“Yeah, he helped a lot,” I say. “But he wants us to get on The Dirty Jersey…”
“OMG,” Rosie says and almost spills her drink. “I love that podcast.”
Jay rolls his eyes. “Yeah, she listens to it nonstop…”
“It’s so funny. I swear. She portrays my idiot brother perfectly. How is it that you got an interview spot this quick? She wanted to do a baseball feature since it’s not hockey season yet.”
“Well…” I look at Jenna. It’s her stupid friend. She should explain. We almost had our first fight when I asked her about the podcast. I had to process how close she is with that chatty gossip host.
“Isla is my best friend… so she will do everything to help us.”
Rosie’s eyes almost bulge out. “Oh my God, that’s so cool. I can’t wait to listen to it.”
“Yeah. Me neither…” I say.
“Isla really isn’t a bad person. She’s helped players dodge bad press and stuff. She’s funny and that’s the thing she prioritizes in her podcast.”
“Totally,” Liora says.
“You’ll love her,” Rosie tells me. “She’s the funniest person there is.”
When she says she’ll love me, Jenna tenses up, and it’s just like she feels a little… possessive. But that’s my silly brain making things up.
“Interviews are easy. But making all of this believable in front of the judge is the hard part,” I add.
“Love usually is hard,” Riley says, then looks straight at me with a grin I don’t trust. What is the fucker planning? “But you’ve never brought anyone to a team thing before, Colton. How does it feel?”
I grunt. “Wonderful.”
Rosie giggles. “The way you look at her says otherwise. Maybe this is about as fake as your relationship.” She wiggles her eyebrows at her brother.
Heat crawls up my neck.
How am I looking at her?
Like I can’t stop thinking about that kiss? Like I had to lock myself in the shower afterward just to get my head straight?
Yeah. Probably something like that.
“Alright, leave him alone,” Jay cuts in, saving me. “We’re clearly not helping. Let’s switch topics. So, Coach Mercer wants training to start next week, by the way. Said you need to work on your left side after that hit last season.”
“My left side is fine,” I mutter, immediately grateful for the change of topic.
“You favored your right for two periods,” Riley says. “Everyone saw it.”
“I still scored.”
“Because you’re a stubborn bastard,” Jay laughs.
Fair.
I don’t argue.
The season starting again sits somewhere uneasy in my stomach, but I shove it down. Captain. Responsibility. All that.
Then—
“I can pick up Livy after school,” Jenna says casually. “No problem.”
Every head turns toward her.
Including mine.
That wasn’t part of the plan.
We talked about it, sure—but only for the court. Only in theory. Livy goes to a private school, and for most people, picking up a kid after work isn’t a big deal.
But my schedule isn’t normal. Not even close.
And Jenna—
Jenna just volunteered like it is.
“You don’t have to—” I begin.
“It’s no trouble,” she says, locking her gaze with mine.
I can’t help but lift my hand, letting my fingers brush against hers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Riley and Jay exchanging glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement.
Suddenly, I pull back as if her skin has set me on fire.
Damn it. That’s why I don’t bring people.
“I can work from home those afternoons. The school’s on my way back from the courthouse anyway.” Jenna acts like my touch didn’t mean anything, but I see her fingertips lingering on the same spot where we connected, almost as if she’s trying to hold onto the moment.
She’s already thought this through, though.
“If you’re sure...” I say.
“I am. Livy and I get along well. Don’t we?”
She glances toward the playground where my daughter is currently hanging upside down from a bar, her blonde pigtails dangling toward the ground as she laughs at something Rory has said. There’s that stupid, fuzzy feeling in my chest again. I don’t like it.
“You’ll need to be added to the pickup authorization,” I tell her. “They’re strict.”
“Sure,” she says simply.
This offering to rearrange her schedule, to take on a piece of daily responsibilities…goes beyond our… whatever this is.
Before I can respond, Riley claps his hands together. “And you must come to our next game! The team box has plenty of room, and Livy can play with Rory.”
“Of course,” Jenna nods, smiling. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. This is happening too fast. One minute we’re awkwardly avoiding each other after an impulsive kiss, and the next she’s volunteering to pick up my daughter and attend my games like we’re really...
Like we’re really married.
I watch her laugh at something Rosalie says, her hand reaching for her wine glass with easy confidence.
She belongs here. That’s the thing that keeps hitting me.
This sharp-tongued lawyer, who once looked at me like I was her worst nightmare come to life—she fits into my world like she’s always been part of it.