Page 32 of Season's Schemings
This is how I keep playing hockey, how I keep from letting down the guys currently sitting inside this plane.
Even if it means I’m about to be heckled beyond belief.
“You’re confident,” I tell her.
She grins. “Confidence is sexy, don’t you know.”
I look her up and down slowly. Smile. “Agreed. Here goes nothing.”
We step into the cabin to a thunderous round of applause and an alarming amount of… Wait, are those penis straws?!
“To the happy couple!” Triple J yells, holding up his drink—yup, that’s definitely a penis straw—towards us.
“What the…?” I stare blankly at the offending items.
Jake scowls at Jimmy. “I told him these were for bachelorette parties, not elopements, but would he listen? Nooooo.”
Dallas, meanwhile, jumps to his feet. “Oh, YOU’RE Maddie! Of course. I should’ve known something was going on when Seb wouldn’t shut up about our new nutritionist.”
“Really?” Maddie turns to give me a pointed, cheeky look. “Good things, I hope?”
“The best, my love,” I reply dryly, her confidence still rebuilding mine, piece by piece. I surprise her with this comment, and she blushes sweetly. Which actually looks very convincing, indeed.
“I would have hit on you myself actually, but I have a rule about mixing business and pleasure,” Dallas continues. “But I guess that all worked out because clearly my man was already in deep.”
“That’s what she said,” Maddie deadpans, and I snort, while Dallas breaks into immediate laughter.
“Y’all are cute.” Aaron holds up his own penis-straw-free drink and toasts us. “Congrats.”
“I always wanted to elope in Vegas,” Colton pipes up. “Figured it would be a perfect thing to do with a first wife…” His eyes widen as he clocks Maddie’s amused expression. “Not that I’m insinuating that you’re going to be Seb’s first wife, obviously. I hope you have a very long and happy marriage and—”
“Shut up, dude,” I tell my teammate.
Behind him, Mal—the only person actuallyinon this whole thing—is practically doubled over with laughter. “Hey, Maddie,” he calls when he can catch a breath. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Likewise.” Maddie gives an easy smile. “I’ve been cooking for you guys for a couple weeks now, so it’s nice to actually get to know you. Despite the penis straws, of course.”
This makes everyone crack up, which puts me even more at ease. I glance at my new wife with something akin to pride.
She’sgoodat this.
Maybe this crazy charade will work after all.
As we slide into our seats, Maddie continues to sparkle. She fields my teammates’ questions like a pro, and somehow even manages to charm the coaches when they stop by for a chat after we’ve taken off.
All in all, she’s doing way better than I would have. And I’ve had freaking media training.
Finally, about an hour into the flight—when everyone is either asleep or has their headphones in—Maddie and I get a quiet moment. And I find myself almost bursting to say something. Talk to her. Thank her.
For making this look believable… But also for being so damn easy to pretend to be in love with.
“You’re doing incredible,” I tell her.
She takes a slug of her ginger ale. “Good to hear because I feel like absolute crap. Last night is catching up with me.”
“Get some rest.”
“Okay,” she replies. And then, before I know it, she’s asleep, her head snuggled up against my arm. She looks so peaceful that I stay stock still for the rest of the flight for fear of waking her.