Page 22 of Season's Schemings
I think of Adam, who gave me a promise ring when we were seventeen, and then chose someone else to wear anactualengagement ring. My mother, who was left by my biological father while she was wrangling a toddler. Jax, who has sworn off romance because of all the crap he’s seen in his life.
Crap that I’ve seen too, but have simply… chosen not to pay attention to.
Seb reads my silence as agreement. “Exactly. Now, you need a level up—your words, not mine—to help you get through the holidays. Being married to a hockey player is the biggest level up you can get when your ex is into hockey. And besides, it’sme.” He smiles cockily. “And in return… I need an American wife so that I can continue playing hockey.”
“A wife,” I repeat dumbly.
He nods. “You’re an American citizen, right?”
“Yes.” I cough. “But this is crazy! Surely taking a bit of time off to wait for your new visa won’t make too big of a dent in your career. I assume you make enough money not to work for a month or two.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“What is it then?” I study his face. Watch his blue eyes flutter before he sets his jaw.
“I don’t want to let my team down.”
“And that’s the only reason?” I challenge.
“Hockey is everything to me. Without it, I don’t know who I am. I have to play.” He chews on his lip, his face still hard. “I was brought to the Cyclones to help them out of their dry streak in the playoffs, and I intend to do it. Without me, there’s no way we’ll keep this winning streak. They need me.”
“That was weirdly entirely egotistical and entirely selfless at the same time.”
He looks at me with a simple shrug. “It’s the truth.”
“I wish I had your confidence.”
He smiles. Flirtily, I think. But that could be the nipple shots talking. “Imagine how confident you’d feel going to Aspen for Christmas with me.”
“It would almost be worth it just to rile up my mom.” I can only imagine Mother Dearest’s reaction if I showed up with a huge hunk of hockey man and derailed her plans for me to grovel at my cheating ex’s feet.
“And if he’s as big a hockey fan as you say he is, Eugene would freak,” Seb adds.
“Who?”
“I don’t know your ex’s name, so I called him Eugene in my head.”
I break into (what must be exceedingly unattractive) snorting laughter at the thought of Adam’s face. Showing up married to his favorite hockey player, Sebastian Slater, would be way better level up material than simply sending him a selfie of us.
In fact, it would be the ultimate level up.
“That’s amazing.”
“I can’t remember what he looks like from the show, but I’m imagining a bald spot. And that he smells like deli meat.”
I cackle harder. “Are you trying to butter me up? Because it’s working. To the point where I feel like this might actually be a good idea.”
He smiles again. Holds out a hand.
I take it.
“Madelyn… wait, what’s your last name?”
“Grainger.”
“Middle name?”
“Louise.”