Chapter 9
Will
It was the big day. Mia and Ethan’s wedding. They packed the church with at least two hundred guests. I barely reached the aisle to speak to Ethan’s mom before the service.
As Ethan’s best man, I promised to handle all the bullshit wedding stuff. Make sure he didn’t forget the rings… or his vows.
I stepped into the back room, where the groomsmen were getting ready. Mia and Clarke were down the hall somewhere. I had spoken little to Clarke since we agreed to stay married.
After we touched down at Philly International, Clarke left with Mia, and Ethan slept in his old bedroom at the apartment we used to share. My sister was traditional and didn’t want Ethan to see her before the wedding. She thought it was bad luck, even though they’d lived together for the past year.
I cracked open the door, and Ethan was still pacing across the floor.
“Dude, chill.” I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. “You’re driving everyone fucking crazy. Stop worrying. Mia is fine. I have the rings. You know your vows.”
He nodded. “I’m so fucking nervous. I hope I don’t fuck up the vows.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Just worry about Mia, and let me do the rest, okay?”
“I can’t forget my vows.”
This was his number one concern for the past week. You would never know it by looking at him, but my best friend was a fucking mess.
“We rehearsed your vows no less than twenty times.” I squeezed his shoulder. “You got this.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the rings, noticing mine.
It still felt weird to see that hunk of gold on my finger.
It was probably fake, like our marriage.
But if we were going to do this the right way, I had to replace our cheap rings.
Clarke deserved better than some dime store band on her pretty finger.
Ethan took the rings from me and shoved them into his pocket. He blew out a deep breath as our eyes met. “I want to go over the vows one more time.”
“Dude, this isn’t a pop quiz. Just speak from your heart. Tell Mia how you feel.”
“I want to say the words I spent weeks writing for her, not some shit I make up on the fly.”
“Fine. Go ahead.”
Ethan ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it out of his eyes, and cleared his throat. “Okay, here goes.”
I listened to his speech, trying not to cringe. Every time we ran through his vows, my stomach turned.
“I choose you and promise…”
Oh, my God. I can’t do this anymore.
Drowning out the end of Ethan’s speech, I wanted to plug my ears with my fingers. Yeah, I was immature. But so what? Hearing those sappy ass words from my best friend’s mouth would have been weird with any woman. But with my sister? It was even stranger.
After he finished his vows, Ethan stared at me, unblinking. He looked inhuman, like one of those creepy ass vampires from Twilight.
“Breathe,” I reminded him. “Only the entire church will hear your vows.”
“Dude,” he groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“E, you play hockey in front of thousands of fans. And millions of people watching on TV. Why are you freaking out over a few hundred people in a church?”
“Because I’m a different person on the ice. This is personal.”
“Then tell Mia you don’t want to say the vows in front of people.”
He shook his head. “No, I promised I would.”
A woman with reddish brown hair stepped into the room and said, “You’re on in five. Are you ready?”
Ethan straightened his tie, his eyes on me. “Dude, don’t be a pussy,” I said under my breath before glancing at the woman. “We’re ready. Be out in a minute.”
She nodded, then left the room without a word.
Ethan rocked his vows. Mia cried like a baby with each word he spoke. The ceremony was magical. At least, that was how Mia phrased it before she walked down the aisle with Ethan, a married woman.
I extended my hand to Clarke, and she slipped her fingers between mine, a smile ghosting her lips. It was our turn to follow the bride and groom.
“You look beautiful,” I whispered.
Blush crept across her pale cheeks. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Who are you kidding? I look fucking outstanding, wifey.”
She chuckled. “So confident.”
“Always.”
We walked arm in arm, acting like a loving married couple. I held her like a delicate flower I needed to protect. Not like she needed a man to save her. If Clarke were a car, she would have been a tank. And she would have run my ass over.
I was happy to be that man… for the next three months. Husband, friend, whatever she needed. Too bad lover was off the table because of our stupid bet.
I could change her mind about me. Maybe I wasn’t totally on board with being married, but I didn’t want to lose her again. Not after I’d tried so hard to get her to stop hating me.
My mom beamed with delight as I walked past her and my dad. She was pretty stoked about me getting married to Clarke. I tried to explain that it was a fake and drunken accident. Regardless, she was still pumped that I got hitched to a beautiful, successful woman.
I waved to my mom, and so did Clarke. They had met several times over the years.
Mom had even suggested a few times that I date Mia’s “pretty reporter friend.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her about our dirty past or the fact Clarke would only hate-fuck me occasionally just to get me out of her system.
Moms don’t need to know that kind of shit.
After we finished our never-ending walk down the aisle, I pulled Clarke to the side. I leaned against the wall closest to the front door and slid my hand to her hip. Her blue eyes met mine, and for once, she didn’t look like she hated me.
“I meant what I said back there,” I told her. “You look hot. If we didn’t have a bet, I’d drag you into one of the back rooms and screw your brains out.”
She threw back her head and chuckled. “Can’t even last one day. Oh, boy. This is going to be the worst three months of your life.”
“I can do it,” I said with confidence. “I’m not worried about me.”
“Please. I can go without sex for years. Three months is child’s play.”
“I packed some shit last night. After I talk to my GM on Monday, I’m driving to DC to live with your fine ass.”
She pressed her lips together. “I still can’t believe I agreed to this. You and me living together… What was I thinking?”
“I’m not bad company.”
“Maybe. But you’re a slob. I’m not cleaning up after you.”
I snorted with laughter. “No, I’m not.”
“Your sister would say otherwise. We had a little chat last night.”
“Ah, Mia’s just being a nag. I’m not that messy.”
Okay, I was pretty bad. When Ethan lived with me, he did the cooking and cleaning. And after he left, I had to hire a chef and a housekeeper to keep the place running.
“A marriage is a partnership, Will. If you want this to work, pull your weight around the house. We do everything fifty-fifty.”
“Got it. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Best man and maid-of-honor,” the photographer said, drawing my attention toward her. “You’re needed outside for pictures.”
“It’s showtime,” I said under my breath.
A few hours later, after I’d given the best man speech and my sister and Ethan smashed cake in each other’s faces, I danced with Clarke. She was halfway through a bottle of champagne and already a little drunk. This girl couldn’t hold her alcohol for shit.
Clarke molded her body to mine and hooked her arms around my neck. She breathed champagne in my face, her lips inches from mine. It took every ounce of my self-control not to kiss her.
“I’m leaving in the morning,” she muttered. “I’ll text you my address.”
Her fingers danced along my neck, and her feather-light touch chilled my arms. I was going to lose the bet. No way could I make it three months without wanting to kiss her… or rip off her clothes.
“So, what are the exact terms of our deal?”
She lifted her head from my chest. “No sex. Obviously.”
“How about kissing?”
Clarke laughed. “Like I want to kiss you.”
“Less than forty-eight hours ago, you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”
“No kissing,” she clarified. “And no touching.”
I slid my fingers up her bare arm, and she shivered. “I’m touching you right now.”
“This doesn’t count. We’re the maid-of-honor and the best man. Dancing together is part of the job.”
“I’d dance with you, regardless.”
She sighed, blowing a strand of loose hair in her face.
I swiped the hair behind her ear. “If you’d stop fighting your feelings for me, we can make this work. Everyone will believe we’re in love.”
“You’re not capable of love.”
“Yes, I am. I love my sister, my parents… Ethan and my teammates. I love plenty of people.”
“Have you ever told a woman you love her?”
I shook my head.
“Have you ever thought you might be in love with a woman?”
“I had a crush on this girl in middle school. Samantha Carter. But she wouldn’t even look at me.”
“A crush doesn’t count. I’m talking real love. Someone who makes your heart beat faster when you’re around them. It’s like the world starts and stops when you see them.”
My heart raced whenever Clarke was around, but I would never consider what I felt for her love. It was attraction and definitely interest. I’d always wondered why I could never forget about her.
I was the one who pursued her every time I was in New York. A few times, I even lied and said I was there for work. She probably knew I lied. But if she did, she never mentioned it.
“No,” I admitted. “Never felt like that before.”
“It’s a horrible feeling,” she slurred. “Love sucks. And losing it sucks even more.”
She had a rough breakup with her ex-husband and an absent father.
No matter what I said or did to change her mind, she lumped me in with the men who had disappointed her.
That was my fault. I was never clear with her in the past. We had serious communication issues that caused most of our problems. And I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship back then.
Even now, I wanted to resist the idea, but I needed her help to save my career.
I moved my hand to the back of her head, and her eyes met mine. She stared at me with watery blue eyes. Stupid bet. I wanted to kiss her pouty pink lips.
Instead, I held her close and whispered, “I can’t make up for every man who hurt you. But I will try.”