Page 74 of Put a Rink on It

Her eyes fall closed. “You too.” It’s barely a whisper as her breath slows, sleep dragging her under.

I don’t move for a while, my mind too amped up to rest. I can’t believe we pulled out the win, but that’s teamwork for you. Going into the third period, the captains told us to throw out the first two periods and play like it was the beginning of the game again. For some reason, it worked. We were stronger, more together, played like we wanted to win the game.

The victory is especially sweeter on Montreal’s home turf, shutting down their winning streak. They’ll come to our next match-up with guns blazing, but we’ll be ready, determined to keep our own streak against them alive. I think it’s toward the end of the season. I’m sure Marina knows.

My eyes fall to her, her lashes flush against her cheeks, the beauty of her taking my breath away.

She’s always been beautiful to me, and I’ve been grateful to the universe for gracing me with her friendship since that day in the library in college. I’ve never taken how special she is for granted, but my admiration for her is at the highest it’s ever been.

I’m gonna be miserable when she decides this fake engagement/marriage isn’t for her. As much as I want her to find her person, I’m a selfish bastard and want to keep up this charade of us being together. I’m not stupid to think it’s forever, but damn if telling my teammates I had a wife isn’t one of my greatest mistakes.

I don’t take it lightly she’s here with me, sharing a bed, playing a role she probably never imagined. Besides her initial freak-out, she seems okay with what we’re doing or hasn’t said otherwise. She tried to recall everything she told the WAGs today, and I wrote it down, planning to study it on the plane home to incorporate it into my canon so when confronted with questions, our stories line up.

A bout of exhaustion finally hits me, and I rearrange her body to lie down. Even asleep, she comes willingly into my side.

Yep, it’s gonna suck to lose this.

Over the next week, Marina and I settle into a routine of sorts. Since she quit her job, she’s got time on her hands, which mostly involves listening to podcasts, audiobooks, and watching TV. She claims she’s researching job opportunities but has found nothing of worth yet. She’s going a little stir-crazy, even though she brought her car back after a quick trip to Vermont. The February break starts soon, which will afford us more free time to spend together and get back to Boston to have her ring sized.

She hasn’t lamented about being in Hartford or “living” with me. Other than to laugh about my mannerisms, pointing out the quirkiness in them.

Like how I group my socks by length. Or how I brush my teeth with hot water. Her favorite is the way I fold every hanging towel in the apartment in thirds, sometimes checking they’re evenly spaced out on the holders.

She was a little grossed out when I wore the same Nautilus T-shirt around the house the week before the Minnesota game for good luck, though when we defeated my former team, she didn’t concede it was because of the shirt, but she didn’t not either. I’m taking the win.

“Want to go to Lennon’s hockey game this weekend?” she asks as we’re sitting down to lunch on a game-free day.

“Yup,” I agree without thought.

Aside from the sex, the best part of this new schedule is spending time in the middle of the day with her. We almost always get to have lunch together.

“You gotta be a little less conspicuous. The attention needs to be on the kids.” She makes a disgusted face, and I’d bet she’s thinking about the last encounter with the woman at the local rink rather than suggesting I’d blatantly steal the spotlight.

I’m fortunate Ember was able to shut down the potential of the social media post going viral after Kaitlyn alerted us. It wasn’t the call’s intention, but once I knew about it, Ember took care of it.

“I can do inconspicuous. I’ve got plenty of hats.”

The intensity in her stare could power this entire apartment building. “Which you will wear correctly and not backward. I’m tempted enough by you.”

The purpose of wearing the hat is to shield my face. Wearing it backward defeats it, which she knows but has to point out anyway.

I bump my shoulder into hers. “I can’t help if I exude sexiness all the time.”

“You could tone down the charm, Champ. Not wear it like a badge.” A smirk sneaks on her lips, not concealing her opinion on the matter. “Want to bake cookies after lunch? I found a new recipe I want to try.” Her change of subject is abrupt but not surprising. When our conversations push the boundaries of her comfort zone, it’s her go-to move.

“Do I get to lick the beaters and the bowl?”

“Of course. They’re your best jobs for helping.”

That’s a lie. Between a few cooking lessons with Mrs. Robles and prepping meals side-by-side with Marina, my skills improve every day. After my second lesson, I wondered why I hadn’t thought to take them in Minnesota. It’s not like I didn’t have the time. Though I won’t complain about the personal chef I hired who did all the prep work for most of my meals.

“Must I remind you about my chocolate chip cookies last week? Did you not say they were delectable? Or is my mind remembering that wrong?”

“I still can’t figure out how you pulled those off. They were delicious.” She licks her lips.

I puff my chest. “I’m more than my good looks and a bowl licker.”

“You certainly are.”