Page 69 of Meant for Mayhem

He pointed up at the roster displayed on the screen, where Carter Sullivan was listed on the starting lineup.

Left wing.

Alternate captain.

“How long have you been together?” I asked, trying my best at friendly conversation even though I didn’t feel friendly yet.

“Three years.”

I nodded, telling my instincts to cool it before I made yet another terrible impression in Mikko’s world. It was bad enough that every time we FaceTimed his parents, his dad glared through the phone at me. I glared right back, not afraid to go toe-to-toe with the man for no reason other than he wasn’t nice to Mikko.

But I also fully recognized that ruining every relationship in Mikko’s life wasn’t exactly helpful.

Thankfully, Nolan let the conversation drop, adjusting his hat and focusing back on the ice. When the lights dimmed, he pointed to the space between the two team benches. “They’ll come out right there in a minute. Your husband is usually second to last.”

As often as Mikko called me his wife, I’d never heard him referred to as my husband before. Like I had as much claim on him as he had on me.

Before I had time to analyze how that made me feel, the entire arena got to their feet, music blaring. Leena clapped along in my arms. I bounced her around until she giggled, smiling at the little girl who made it hard to be anything but happy.

The players all looked alike in their jerseys and helmets, but I spotted Mikko immediately. On skates, he looked even bigger than usual. A chill washed over me, pride simmering under my skin as he lifted a hand to the stands when they announced his name.

They didn’t just cheer. They screamed for him.

“Thank god he’s back,” someone said from behind me.

“Wonder what happened?”

“I heard he went crazy in the locker room.”

“Nah, I heard he cheated with Parrish’s girlfriend. That’s why they’ve played like shit the last few games.”

“I heard that too, but Parrish is a playboy. No way he has a girlfriend.”

My shoulders inched up the more they talked, ready to turn around and unleash on the people who felt they had any right to gossip about people they didn’t know, but Nolan moved over so he stood next to me.

“Ignore it,” he said in a low voice. “You can’t react. Just like I can’t when someone says something about Carter being openly gay in the NHL.”

My jaw clenched, but I said nothing. We all took our seats after the national anthem, and the game began. Except this time, Nolan sat in the seat next to me.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice still low. “If we look like we’re together, they’ll notice us even less.”

I tried to focus on the game in front of me, but every single hair on my body stood on end every time someone said Mikko’s name.

A few minutes later, the crowd erupted around us.

“Come on!” Nolan groaned. “That’s interference.”

I looked from him to the ice, but none of this made any sense to me.

Nolan must have clocked the confused look on my face. “How much do you know about hockey?”

I hesitated long enough to answer the question for him.

“See Carter?” He pointed toward the far end of the ice. “He’s a left winger. His job is to get the puck in the net by any means possible.”

“And Mikko?”

Nolan smiled. “Officially? Prevent goals. Unofficially? He likes to score them, too.”