Chapter Four #2
“But the penthouse? Is that necessary?” he asks.
“My sister is used to a certain lifestyle, and we need this to look believable. If my grandmother ever comes to visit, she’ll expect to see Kat living in some level of luxury.”
“You think she’ll come?” I ask, the thought is a little terrifying. I love my grandmother, and I wouldn’t mind seeing her, but there’s something about her. Something that makes it impossible to lie to her face. I’ve never been able to. She’s like a human lie-detector.
“I’m not sure, but that’s what the penthouse is for. She won’t believe it if you’re living in a one-bedroom apartment on the fifth floor.”
“Hey,” Scottie objects as if it were an insult.
“Besides…” Luka looks at Scottie. “There won’t be any one-bedroom situation going on here. Got it?” he says, and I know a threat when I see one.
Scottie puts up his hands as if he had no intention of touching me.
And maybe for a moment, I’m relieved. Maybe I won’t have to confess to being a virgin. After all, Scottie’s probably used to a certain kind of woman. One open to one-night stands, experienced in bed. I’m not that girl. He’d be disappointed in me anyway.
No physical contact is best for everyone.
“Luka, I’ve been living in a studio apartment with two other people… I don’t need this.” I say.
The doors open onto a hallway with three doors. Three penthouses on this level.
“It’s already done. Coach Haynes says we can sublease it for the next year; that’s what he has left on the contract. I’ll take care of the rent,” Luka says as he inputs the code to unlock the door to the left.
“No, you won’t,” Scottie says, following in after me. “I can pay the rent, just tell me what it costs.”
“This doesn’t have to be your problem.”
“I’ll cover it, Luka. Taking care of my wife is my responsibility, not yours.” The moment he says the words, I snap a glance at him, his eyes finding mine. “I grew up with certain expectations of what being a man means. I’m not letting Luka cover our living expenses. I’ve got you.”
Luka nods. “Temporarily. This is a business deal. That’s it. Don’t forget Scottie. Otherwise, I don’t care what team you play for… You won’t walk off the ice without crutches.”
“I got it,” Scottie says.
“I have a meeting with Coach Haynes. You two okay to figure it out from here for now?”
“Yes,” I say.
Scottie nods. “I’ll have to go down to my apartment and get some stuff, but we’ll make it work.”
“Good. I’ll see you later, Kat,” Luka says to me. He kisses the top of my head. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too. Thank you.”
And then Luka’s gone.
Scottie and I stand there for a moment.
“Which room do you want? Right or left?” He asks.
“I’ll take the left if that’s okay?” I ask.
He nods and then turns as if he’s going to head to his apartment.
“Scottie…?” I say.
“Yeah?” he turns back to look over his shoulder.
“Thank you for doing this, but you’re not just doing this for me, are you?”
“My situation is exactly the same as yours,” he deadpans, shrugging like this is all perfectly logical.
I lift an eyebrow. “Oh? You also have a mob father trying to marry you off?”
“No,” he says, straight-faced. “Mine is worse. My mom is trying to guilt-trip me into marrying a kindergarten teacher who dumped me when we were twelve. Evidently, she makes killer sourdough bread, and I’m pretty sure my mother’s entire goal is to get the family recipe.
I need you as a cover for a wedding in Montana next week so she’ll finally get off my back. ”
“Ah, yes,” I say solemnly, “the infamous sourdough-recipe ploy. You’re right. Our situations are indisputably similar.”
He nods. “Oldest trick in the book. My mother is playing dirty.”
“I see,” I say. “An arranged marriage really is your only way out, then.”
His mouth curves into that smirk—the one I’m beginning to recognize as trouble in disguise. “Just for the record, if Luka had been honest with me from the start, I would’ve said yes. To help you, I mean. He didn’t have to trick me into a bet.”
“He tricked you into a bet?” I ask. This is a part of the story my brother left out.
“Oh yeah. Hook, line, sinker,” he says, pointing at himself. “He sandbagged me in a game of pool after I’d had a few beers. I was riding high from our win, feeling cocky, and he played me like a damn fiddle.”
I blink.
That… sounds exactly like Luka.
My father used to make him stand on a stool to reach the pool table, playing for hours under harsh overhead lights.
“Play until you beat me.” If Luka didn’t, he wasn’t allowed to join the other children outside.
My father believed it would sharpen him—turn him into a strategist, a fierce negotiator.
It did.
Just not in the way my father expected. He built a son who wasn’t afraid of his father. A son who knew his father’s weak spots, his blind corners.
And Scottie—this earnest, open man standing here still offering to marry me—has no idea that Luka simply reverted to the part of him that learned survival through games.
I can see in Scottie’s eyes that he means it. That he would’ve helped me, regardless.
Bet or no bet. Trick or no trick.
“I think I already know that,” I say quietly.
His smirk softens into something warm. Something real. “Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” He backs toward the door. “I’m in apartment 511B when you need anything.”
He doesn’t say if, he says when.
And I don’t know which is more terrifying—that he said it… or that some part of me already believes him.
And then he’s gone too, and I’m left to stare around this gorgeous penthouse that I barely even know what to do with all this space.
The words echo back in my head when Scottie said he’d cover the penthouse expenses.
I’ve got you.
But something tells me he means more than just the penthouse.