Irresponsible Puckboy (Puckboys #2)(27)

“She has basically given your marriage clout,” Graham says.

“Talk me through this. Our choices are for one of us to be traded so we can still ‘appear’ to be a couple but don’t need PDA or anything because we won’t live near each other anymore. Or to stay where we are and pretend this marriage is real,” I say.

“I think those are the best options to keep the backlash off of you guys and the team. If you want to tell everyone it was a joke, we can go that route too, but expect shit to blow up. Players have been hated for less. Fans will turn on you. Ticket sales could drop. Management could take it out on both of you.”

“Trade me,” Dex says. “This was my fault. So I should be punished.”

“Just wait,” I snap at him. “You said before you’ll do anything to keep us both with the team, but we haven’t heard all the details yet.” I turn back to Graham. “What would pretending to be married entail?”

“Living together. Going to dinners. Charity events. Team events. Not having sex with other people. Everything you see your other married teammates doing.”

I don’t make the argument that Appleby cheats on his wife at nearly every away game even though I want to.

I look at Dex. “That does sound like what we normally do anyway. We’re always at one another’s places, we go to team events together, eat … It’s us. Apart from the no sex with other people thing.”

“How long for?” Dex asks.

“A year?” Graham says. “Then you can both say that you work better as teammates and friends. Or the spotlight on your relationship from the media was too stressful and made it crumble. The longer you’re married though, the better.”

“Can you give us a minute?” Dex asks Graham.

Graham stands. “No problem. I’ll be in the backyard, making some phone calls. You aren’t the only two players in hot water.”

“Who else?”

“Jaycox went parasailing and broke his ankle on landing. He could be out for the first couple of games of the season. I swear all of you have pucks for brains.” He’s not wrong.

Dex is always teased for being dumb, but it’s not like any of us are much better. We’re just more articulate when it comes to explaining our dumbassery.

“It’s only one season,” I say.

“One season where we have to act like an actual married couple.”

“I can deal with that.”

Finally, his brown eyes meet mine. “Can you? Are you sure? I’ve already made your life ten times more difficult than it needs to be, and—”

“I missed you these last couple of days while you were avoiding me. I can’t lose you to another team. I’d be too tempted to let you score a goal every time I played against you.”

“I’d be the highest scorer in the league. Maybe I should take the trade.”

I shove him. “Good to know your points score is more important than I am.”

“Nothing is more important than you.” Dex runs a hand through his hair. “So … am I moving in with you, or do you want to move out to Summerlin?”

“I’m not moving into this house. It’s got bad juju all over it.” And that juju is Jessica’s decorating taste.

“All right, hubby. I guess I’m moving into the penthouse. Party time.”

“You’re in?” I can’t help smiling. “Are you sure you’ll be able to keep it in your pants for an entire year?”

As if that news just sinks in, Dex’s face falls. “Shit. I guess it’s time to get reacquainted with my first-ever girlfriend.” He holds up his hand.

“Well, hey, if you’re ever desperate enough …” I waggle my eyebrows. “I am your husband.”

It’s a joke, but I don’t think Dex takes it as one.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

God, say yes. Just … let the offer linger.

But I can’t. Our friendship is already going through too much awkwardness over this marriage thing to add sex to the mix.

So instead of telling him what I want, I play it off instead. “You wish.”

My phone starts ringing, and my immediate thought is that it’s already reporters trying to get ahold of us for a quote, but when I pull it out, it’s even worse than that.

It’s the queer collective. And it’s a group video call.

“If Graham comes back in, let him know we’re doing this for real. I need to put out this fire.” I hold up my phone.

I go into one of the spare bedrooms and hit Answer on the call. Great. They’re all here.

“It’s a fake marriage, huh?” Oskar smirks.

“Wait, so this is actually true? You guys got married?” Foster asks.

I take a deep breath and put on the performance of a lifetime. “I’d … love … chat.” I make sure I pause movement in between words too. “Dealing … crisis. Hello? I think … bad … reception.” I quickly hit the End button.

Oh no. The call dropped out.

Shame.

Real shame.

I wonder how long I can play that game. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to face the Collective, but today is not that day. I already know what they’ll tell me anyway.