Page 14 of Put a Rink on It

What an abominable notion.

“Never, Nero. Won’t happen.” I shake my head, solidifying it for both of us. “We’ll figure this out together. We’ll need some time to put a plan in motion. Maybe have a public breakup or something. Ember can work out the details. Does she know?”

“Um, nope. Guess she’ll be my first call in a little while. Heck, she told me a relationship might even be a good idea for me. But Marina?” He draws my attention to his face with a thumb tipping up my chin. “Hypothetically, what if we didn’t?”

“Didn’t what?”

“Break up. Publicly. Or not.” His casual shrug is so out of place in this situation. He’s possibly had one too many blows to the head.

I let my other hand drop from his and step back, thwarted by the counter. “Maybe not right away, but soon enough, we’ll call it off. Say we’re better off as friends. Get out as unscathed as possible.”

Before I realize it, he’s down on one knee, grabbing my wrists in his hands. “Marina Keeley, will you marry me?”

Yep, the man has definitely lost his marbles.

CHAPTER 5

nero

Shocked doesn’t quite describe Marina’s disposition correctly.

Stupefied, maybe. Flabbergasted. Rendered speechless.

She stands in her kitchen in an oversized Minnesota Storm T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts with ships on them I gifted her years ago when I saw them and thought of her. Half of her hair’s pulled away from her face, the rest cascading down her back in untamed waves. With not a speck of makeup and for having been woken up, she’s intoxicating. I couldn’t take my eyes off her if I wanted to.

I rub the inside of her wrists. “Say yes, Marina.”

Her Caribbean ocean-colored eyes widen, and a gasp escapes. She stares for a few long beats, allowing my thoughts to run amok.

“This is crazy,” she finally admits.

She’s not wrong. And if I hadn’t made the mistake of outing myself as having a wife last night, I wouldn’t be here, down on one knee, without a ring, no less, asking her to be my wife.

But since I stupidly confessed to being married and implicated her, what choice do I have?

“Maybe.” She calls me out with a quirk of her right brow. “Definitely. What can I do to get you to say yes?”

I’ll do anything at this point.

Buy her whatever she wants.

Tell her she’s always right, even in the slim chance she’s not.

Always let her order olives on our pizza.

My stomach turns acidic at the thought. But I’d do it if she agrees. I can pick them off, or maybe I’ll learn to enjoy them.

Most likely not, but I can’t worry about that now. I’ve got bigger nets to mind.

“Putting aside the whole professional hockey player thing, what do I tell my family? Your sister? My mom? I can’t lie to her. You’ve met her. She’ll see right through it.”

While that’s a valid concern, one I might not have considered, she hasn’t turned me down. Nor has she brought up other potential reasons for not agreeing.

“And what? I uproot my life and move to Connecticut to be with you? Like a snap of my fingers, poof. What about the tabloids? The fans? The bunnies? How are we going to convince them it’s real? We ‘accidentally’ got married in Vegas?”

That idea is promising, but the way her face scrunches in disgust, she won’t go for it.

“It’s not like you’re a stranger in my life. You’ve been in pictures before. Neither of us has a significant other. It’s not a stretch we were secretly dating and things escalated. I bet Ember could spin a story.”