“No. I mean it’s his first fuck-up ever. In life,” Crew says, and I frown, but maybe he’s a bit right. He’s definitely been the brother with more drama. He got married young. It was toxic and went horribly wrong and he ended up almost setting his house on fire.
Christine looks at me like a disappointed schoolteacher. "Let's go, Westwood."
I follow her wordlessly with my shoulders slumped. Because this is the practice facility she doesn’t have a real office here. She’s got a small, windowless nook with a desk and two chairs. She’s only here when there’s a problem. I’m the problem now. She motions for me to sit as she circles her desk and drops into the chair there.
I shake my head. “Can I stand? I’m a little pent up.”
“I would be too if I woke up and realized I forgot to tell… Let’s see… oh, everyone that I was married,” Christine remarks, frowning. She’s a gorgeous woman who oozes confidence. I can see why Tate used to hook up with her.
“It’s not a real marriage.”
“Well, was it a real marriage license?”
“It was, apparently.” I swallow. “But we didn’t mean it.”
Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows lift to the ceiling. Her expression is one of utter disbelief, like I’m a nun telling her I’m pregnant. I feel like that too, honestly. “So you and Tenley Garrison got married but didn’t mean it. Like, you thought you were in love but changed your mind in the light of day? When the vodka wore off?”
“It was tequila and rum, and no. We’ve never had feelings for each other. I mean, not good ones.” I heave out a heavy, embarrassed breath. “We didn’t mean to actually be married. I think we both thought it was, like, a joke.”
“You weren’t even fuck buddies?”
“No. We’re mortal enemies,” I explain and now she looks more confused than ever. “The team has a rule. No fucking teammates’ relatives, remember?”
“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about the rule.” Christine leans back in her chair. “But it’s not exactly set in stone. Ask your brother.”
Right. Crew is dating Liv Garrison who is our teammate Tate's cousin. "I'm not Crew. I follow rules. Every single one of them. And if you forced me to date a teammate's relative, Tenley would be at the bottom of that list. Dead last. Under every teammates' grandmother."
I twist my face up at the thought of messing around with Tenley. I know it looks like I just licked a dirty jock and it makes Christine laugh. “Right. Because Tenley looks like someone, hot young hockey players typically avoid. All that gorgeous blonde hair, long lean body, perky ass, and sex kitten smile… yeah I’d pick a grandma over that too.” She rolls her eyes so hard I almost smile.
“She’s not my type.”
“Because you’re gay?” Christine smirks.
“No. Because she has the personality of a Canada Goose.” She laughs at my reply.
“Well, I have to be honest, I don’t know what to do about this,” Christine tells me as she leans forward in her chair and tucks her hair behind her ears. She starts typing on her laptop. “I’ve been doing this almost ten years and I’ve never had a secret, accidental marriage.”
She turns her laptop screen toward me and I narrow my eyes on it. Filling the screen is a document that I signed. The consensual relationship agreement I filed with HR when Gabby and I started messing around. “And then there’s this.”
“Gabrielle and I aren’t a real thing.”
“So you hate her, like Tenley?”
“No Gabby is great. We were casual is what I mean.” I run my hands through my hair, tugging on the ends like I do when I’m frustrated. “And we haven’t…”
“Been casual?” she assists.
“Yeah. We haven’t been casual together in a months.”
"Yeah, but you've been married… how long?"
“I’m not married,” I argue but she just levels me with a ‘cut the shit’ stare. “It happened in September. Before the season started.”
“So technically you cheated on your wife.”
“No!” I say a little too loudly. Okay, maybe a lot too loudly.
“Westwood?” The voice behind me belongs to Coach. I don’t even have to turn around to know, but I do turn and his face is set in a hard expression. “Care to explain why you’re yelling at the woman who devotes her life to managing your stupidity?”
