Chapter 30
CHAPTER
THIRTY
Mateo
Someone knocks on the massage room door, and I go to answer it.
It’s Annika.
She flashes me a bright smile, her short blunt bangs firmly in place, then saunters into the office.
“Hi, Mateo!”
“What are you doing here?”
“You look alarmed.”
“No!”
She smirks. “Florian is giving my parents and me a tour. I’m early.”
“Oh.” I blink.
“Mama loves art. My parents are at the MFA.”
“And you think it’s boring.”
“Maybe I would rather spend time with my brother’s boyfriend.”
“Cool!”
She gives me an assessing look, and I glance at the air conditioner to make sure I haven’t set it to a cold temperature.
But the thermostat is right where it normally is.
Her eyebrows rise, and I give her an uneasy smile. Annika is smart and not simply book smart.
“It’s really nice to see you,” I say.
She holds my gaze too long, then shakes her head, like I’ve said something amusing.
“I can’t get over the fact that my brother never mentioned you to me,” she says.
“We wanted to keep things quiet.”
“Right. But he didn’t seem that happy.”
“Starting a new job is stressful. Maybe he talked more about that with you.”
She sighs. “Yes, that is true.” She gives me a sheepish smile. “I am sorry, Mateo. We Germans are direct.”
“It’s fine.” I force my lips into a bright smile. It feels heavy on my lips, and I turn away quickly. “You’re a great sister. Like my sister! Though you probably shouldn’t tell her that I said that. She doesn’t need to know I’m complimenting her when she’s not even in my presence.”
“Why are we talking about your sister, Mateo?”
“Because—” I don’t want to say that it’s because I don’t want to talk about Annika, so instead, I smile again and try to ignore my heart rattling against my ribs.
“My brother didn’t seem so happy the night after he got his memory back,” she says, when it’s clear that I’m not going to answer her in a manner that is more thoughtful than a tired parent of a toddler. “I would have thought getting his memory back would have made him happier.”
I chew on my bottom lip.
So the thing is—
I don’t like keeping secrets.
They’re icky.
I hated playing that card game where you had to lie to people about what cards you had. Hated it. I even hated it when people played Hide’n go seek around me and I was asked where people were…
But this isn’t my secret to tell. Florian doesn’t want me to confess everything to his sister, even if it would make me feel good momentarily to not lie.
“I want him to be happy,” I say instead. “I love him.”
Her jaw drops.
Was that too much? I square my shoulders.
“That’s good,” she says slowly. “I want him to be happy too. I’ve known Florian my whole life. He is more naive than other people. He is also rich.”
“I know.”
And I do.
I don’t deserve him.
She knows it too.
It’s—well, it’s not awesome hearing that your fake boyfriend’s sister doesn’t think you deserve him. I prefer my break time to be used for relaxation.
Still, it’s fine.
I chew on my bottom lip. “You shouldn’t worry. Florian will probably figure out that he can do better than me.”
She manages to look startled. “Mateo.”
I laugh, but there’s something wrong with the sound. I don’t sound happy.
“Probably soon,” I say.
I resist the impulse to tell her about all my bad dates.
“We work together,” I say. “That’s all. I’m a gay man. It’s—”
She stares at me. “What is it?”
“Convenience?” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Look, someday Florian will find himself a more appropriate boyfriend. And that will be great for him. Incredible.”
Her eyebrows do some sort of gravity defying thing again. Though maybe eyebrows don’t succumb to gravity. Maybe they spend their times pointed up at me instead. At least when they’re Annika’s eyebrows. And at least when I’m in front of her.
“Most people would be upset to think about their boyfriend with another man,” she says.
I give her a tight smile, the kind where my lips are absolutely pressed together and where I can’t blurt out that Florian isn’t my boyfriend, not the real kind.
“I want him to be happy,” I repeat. “And if right now, I make him happy…”
“I should be quiet.”
“Yes,” I say. “Exactly.”
She shakes her head. “I believe you want him to be happy. I’m not convinced you know him that well.”
I flinch. “We’re a new—”
“—couple,” she says. “Florian told me. Most boyfriends would know their boyfriend doesn’t drink tea.”
“Mind like a sieve,” I say, forcing my voice to be bright. “There’s a reason I work with my hands.”
“I am not here to insult you.”
“Cool!” I nod rapidly.
“But I don’t believe you and Florian were in a relationship before his memory loss.”
I stare at her. Everything is cold.
I need to convince her she’s wrong.
She gives me a soft smile. “Clearly, Florian cares about you.” She sighs. “Look. If you want him to be happy, that’s the most important thing. I won’t tell my parents. Just make sure he is happy.”
Florian
Mateo’s face is pale when I see him after I finish showing my family around the arena, and my stomach drops.
He doesn’t want to pretend anymore. He wants his evenings free to not have awkward conversations with overly tall people with funny accents.
“Annika said she came to speak with you,” I say.
“Uh-huh.” Mateo’s smile is too bright.
I hesitate, then I step inside the massage room and close the door.
“I hate this room,” I admit. My eyes widen. “Not that it is not pleasant.”
Mateo watches me.
“In an aesthetic sense. The composition is calming.”
“Did you used to visit museums a lot?”
“Oh, yes. My mother loves museums.”
“I know. And yes, Annika visited me.” He chews on his lower lip.
“I’m sorry.”
“I like Annika,” he says hastily.
“Good.”
He stares at me.
I stare back.
“She knows. I-I don’t know how much. But she hints, Florian. She majorly hints. You should know that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Nervous energy continues to bounce off Mateo. He does not believe me, I am sure.
I wrap my arms around him, and he glances up, surprised. I hesitate. Perhaps I shouldn’t hug him. But then he burrows his head against my chest. I run my fingers through his short dark curly hair.
“I’m not surprised, to be honest, that Annika knows,” I say.
He glances up at me. “I know the point of being a fake boyfriend is not having anyone figure it out.”
“It’s not your fault,” I assure him, and I pat him against my chest again. I want to smooth away his pain and worry, like he is the miniature Japanese rock garden that sits on my father’s desk, and I can rake away all the uneven lines, all the flaws, all the fallen leaves.
A knock sounds on the door. It’s Coach.
“Ah! I was hoping you were here,” he says. “It’s great to see you back.”
“It is nice to be back,” I say. “The doctor says I should be able to play in six weeks!”
“Yes, yes. We received the paperwork from his office.” Coach doesn’t quite meet my eyes. “We thought for a moment that you wouldn’t recover your memory at all.”
“I am sorry for worrying you.”
“It’s not your fault.” Coach glances between Mateo and me. He chews his bottom lip.
Coach never looks worried, but now he does.
Mateo smooths his hair, like he does when he is nervous. I want to pull him against me, but that might be inappropriate. He is probably nervous in front of Coach.
Oh, God. Even if I had been brave and charming and unlike myself and asked Mateo out, like in his imaginary story, would he have said no? He likes his job. I have made his life difficult.
“I am glad your health is improving,” Coach says.
“I cannot wait to play again,” I say. “I am so sorry that I got injured. I promise to work hard for you.”
Coach looks down. “You have an excellent attitude, Florian. Sometimes hockey is… unfair.”
“Like with Dmitri Volkov,” I say.
Coach steps back. His eyes narrow. “What do you know about him?”
“Only that he had to leave the team suddenly.”
“He was deported,” Coach says. “The situation was… complicated.”
I nod. My teammates still talk about him.
Coach studies me. He is being intense, but that is in his character. His gaze flicks to Mateo, then back to me. “I want to make sure you have the best experience with the Blizzards.”
“I am already having the best experience.”
Coach looks down again, and I think his cheeks might be redder than before. “Good. Mateo is going to be traveling with the team when we go to Florida and Carolina. But if you want, you can join him.”
I blink.
Mateo blinks.
Coach nods multiple times. “Yes. You’ll get eased back into hockey life. Only it will be even nicer, you can be a spectator.”
“That might be nice…”
“Of course!” Coach beams. “Then it is settled.”