Page 16 of The Game Plan

“Yes! And mine. Because thanks to you and your dumbass friend, whichever one has shared their video of our bogus wedding, I won’t have a job by tomorrow. No job. No home. No visa.” I turn on the spot, hands in my hair. “God, what am I going to tell my parents when they find out?”

“That I’m so hench you couldn’t resist marrying me?” Jax says, and I swear, if looks could kill, I’d be murdering him with my eyes.

Mitch and Lauren snicker. Both of them. “Traitors,” I gripe.

“Relax, Sienna, you know this will be old news when another sports guy proposes or does something equally as stupid,” Jax says, though this time he looks away as he says it. The light of the sun bleeding into the room catches his sculpted jawline and the way the tiny muscle in his cheek flexes.

“Is that your way of saying thank you for spending my free time limiting collateral on this?” I bite.

He smirks. “I have an objectively hot-ass wife, what collateral do I need clearing up?”

Again today, my core body temperature feels like molten lava – from rage, not the caveated compliment. “A hot-ass wife with whom you will not have sex, might I remind you? So how long until you start missing your nightly bootie calls, Jax, huh? Do you think women will want to jump your bones after a game when they know you’re married?”

I step closer to him, hands on hips, chest rising and falling rapidly with my breaths. He smells of sandalwood and something deeper, richer, so I try not to breathe in.

“They’ll see me as a challenge,” he says, towering over me as his lips curve up in a lopsided smile.

“Jax…” I see how this is. He’s the naughty kid in class, who plays the clown when chastised. “Let’s try a different tac here. I am a serious business professional, who works in the sports world, who has professional hockey players as clients. If I have any hope of salvaging my career…” It hits me. The spiral I’ve kept at bay because I’ve been controlling the controllables and trying to not freak out. “Which looks highly unlikely now because even if that video is contained, the fact we got married is public record.” I walk backward until my calves hit the lounge chair and I sink down into the seat. “Oh God, my visa is for three months, for as long as my temporary role for the Dragons lasts, and I told Cheska that I had no conflicts of interest.”

I cover my face, forearms on my knees, my lungs struggling to fill. “I’m going to be deported.”

Jax laughs. “Come on, you’re a Canadian, for God’s sake.”

Lauren suddenly appears with a bottle of wine and two glasses. As she fills them, Jax ironically sobers and looks to Mitch. “What do we do?”

Then Mitch winces at me and slowly looks from me to Jax, to Lauren and back to me. “I hate to say it but you already know what you need to do, Sienna.”

I shake my head. “No. Come on, Mitch. I can’t stay married to him. He’s a man-child and a man⁠—”

“Aaaand I’m right here,” Jax interjects. He holds out his arms. “Is that what you’d advise me to do if I was a minion married to any other woman?”

I cannot believe this is happening. I accept a full glass of wine from Lauren. “Any sane, professional, sensible woman who accidentally got herself into a mess like this?” I sigh. Fuck. “Yes, I’d advise you both to stay married for the three months, then…” I narrow my eyes on my husband. “Divorce your juvenile ass.”

“Hot juvenile ass. And I don’t appreciate being called a man-child to my face.”

“Noted. I’ll reserve that particular upgrade from reality for behind your back.”

“So we’re staying married?” he asks.