CHAPTER THIRTEEN

N oah

Finn marches through the Los Angeles arena, still holding my hand tightly. I'm not sure if he's realizing he's doing it.

He ushers me inside, putting a hand on my back, then closes the door.

"You didn't tell them the truth," I say.

"I-I know. I'm sorry." Finn rakes his hand through his hair in a frantic motion I don't associate with him, and I soften.

"It's okay."

He blinks. "It is?"

"If you think we shouldn't tell anyone, then we shouldn't."

He stares at me, and I reconsider my words. Maybe they sound couple-y.

"I mean—"

"Look." Finn grabs hold of my hands. "If we tell them we didn't plan to marry, they'll think we did it as a joke. They already do. And that's..."

"That would be disrespectful."

Finn nods eagerly, his eyes wild. "I don't want you to be sent back to the AHL."

I blink. "You'd rather we what...pretend to be married?"

"Yes. Move into my penthouse."

I nod. "Yeah. If you want me too— "

"I do," Finn says, his voice desperate. "It's spacious. We don't have to see much of each other. I mean, no one has to know what happens there."

I ponder his words. They don't sit well in my stomach. "I like hanging out with you."

A slow smile spreads over Finn's flushed face. God, the man is handsome.

I stifle an odd urge to trace the swell of his cheeks with my fingers.

"You want to tell everyone we got married on purpose?" I ask, wondering if somehow, I've gotten this wrong.

"It's the only way, Noah. Trust me."

"I trust you."

His eyes soften. "I know."

"So we tell them that we fell in..." My voice trails, but he knows what I was going to say.

"Love." The word isn't said particularly loudly, but it booms through the elliptical room all the same, bouncing from machine to machine. "Yes. That's what we do."

"We just met, Finn."

"So we fell fast. We saw each other, and I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"And I couldn't stop thinking about you..." I murmur.

Heat blazes through my body, because of course he's telling me our cover story, and of course I shouldn't be saying something like that.

His smile is pleased.

"And remember, I have been following you for the past four years," I say, stepping away.

His eyes round. "That long? That's when I started."

I nod, embarrassed.

He grins. "You're my super fan."

"I wanted to mention it to make it more believable. That we, um, got married so quickly."

"I'm not just a pretty face?" He winks, and my stomach flips like those years I had figure skating lessons because I wanted to be on the ice every chance I could, even if it meant skating to sappy songs.

"That's smart," Finn says. "Maybe we were exchanging messages all that time, and once I realized who you were..."

I nod.

I wish I had been sending him messages all those years. He always seemed so lofty, so perfect, but maybe he would have answered. Maybe we could have become friends.

"You're a hockey player," Finn says. "You understand me better than anyone else."

I smile, but it's not what draws us close together that I'm thinking about. It's all those things that make us different.

"My background is different," I say. "My dad ran the gas station in our tiny, tiny New Hampshire town."

"My dad would be the first person to say that he is extraordinary. Not in a bad way... Just in that there aren't many people who have what we have." He frowns. "I'm saying it wrong."

"I get it. My experience is more normal. But it's still super different, Finn. I don't think your family would approve. I think all your fans would be shocked. And I don't know what your sponsors would think. It's okay to tell me you changed your mind. Maybe we should come clean to Coach and the team. "

"And the world?" He grits his jaw. I don't like the tension in it, and I want to smooth away the pebbled texture that has formed.

I nod. "And the world. If the world wants to know."

He narrows his gaze.

"I didn't play well the first night. I played terribly—"

"That was because—"

I touch his chest, wanting to calm him. "I know. But it's still a fact. Maybe I'm not meant to be here. I don't want you to risk your career for me."

He smiles at me now, his eyes crinkling with fondness.

"They would try to trade me, Noah. This is good for both of us. I like Boston. I like my team. And I like you." He frowns. "Not in that way, of course."

"I know," I say hastily, and I wonder if I should tell him that maybe I like him in exactly that way.

But I don't want to make things even stranger between us, especially if I'm going to be moving into his place.

"In a year we can get a divorce."

"Divorces happen," I say, and something hurts my chest.

I guess contemplating divorces makes anyone sad.

Footsteps sound, and Finn's eyes widen.

"Finn! Noah!" Coach's voice barrels through the air. "Where are you?"

"We have to sell this," Finn says, his voice desperate.

And so I kiss him.