CHAPTER FIFTEEN

N oah

The game is a blur. We win, which is good, though neither Finn nor I play a huge role.

The PR department released statements about Finn and us during the game, mentioning our excitement for our marriage and a request for privacy.

Finally, we are in our hotel.

"It's your honeymoon," Troy says with a grin.

"Um, yes." My gaze flickers to Finn. My husband. He's talking with his friends. Not my friends. Since, technically, I don't have any here.

Troy holds up his card. "I can't share a room with Finn during your honeymoon. Change with me."

"You want to share with a rookie?" I'm currently rooming with Andy, who is almost as new as I am.

"You don't want to share with your husband?" Troy's gaze narrows slightly, and I grab the key.

"Of course, I do. Thank you. That's, um, great."

Then I find Finn. Nervousness flutters over his face when he sees me, and I try to ignore the way my stomach sinks. I shouldn't be so in tune to his every micro expression. I shouldn't be able to judge the millimeters shifts of his stance and his facial expression, even from yards away.

He recovers quickly. Hockey players move faster than most people, then he pulls me into a hug. I pretend I didn't see his nervousness, and he pretends he's in love with me.

"Hi babe," he says .

I'm not sure if anyone else hears the hesitation in his voice before he gives me his endearment.

"I'm rooming with you tonight," I say. "Troy switched keys with me."

"That's...nice."

Okay, I'm sure that multiple people noticed the pause there. I pull him toward me, hoping that people will be distracted by our romantic pose, and not spend their time analyzing our language.

Because even if he's uncomfortable, he wants this to work. I don't want him to do all the work in establishing that we have a romantic relationship. This isn't only his burden.

I brush my lips against his temple, the sort of casual move that longtime couples make without thinking. He shudders beneath my lips.

I've done too much. My stomach twists, and I remember Madison, the curvy brunette in high heels who wandered his apartment like she owned it. She didn't stare at the view in disbelief, her eyes widening at each fixture. She fit with him, and I don't.

Because even if Finn was anything besides a heterosexual athlete with a deep admiration for the female form, he wouldn't be with me.

I'm sure Boston is swarming with attractive men who would slot into his life nicely. I swallow hard, and he nudges my shoulder, as if he can notice when something is wrong even if we're not looking at each other.

"You should go out to dinner tonight," Luke says. "LA has lots of romantic restaurants."

Finn smiles. "Luke loves watching dating shows. "

"If you watched more of them, you wouldn't be suggesting you spend your second night of marriage in a hotel room."

Finn raises his eyebrow, and Luke's face pales.

"Oh," Luke's mouth rounds, like his jaw struggles from resisting gravity. "Oh."

Finn grasps my hand in his. "Let's go, honey bunny. I bet this hotel has room service."

Laughing, we hurry for the elevators, as our other teammates drift away for dinner and dancing.

"I hope you didn't really want a romantic dinner," Finn says, as we enter the hotel room. "I thought we might have to avoid paparazzi."

"I like spending time with you," I say, and he flashes me a wide grin.

Maybe we'll be able to pull off this year of pretend.

Finn's phone rings, and when he looks at the screen, his face drains.

He shakes his head and gives me something that resembles a smile. If one hasn't seen many of them. And if one is in the dark. "Want to meet your in-laws?"

FINN

Noah nods, because he's brave, and I lead us to the tiny couch on one side of the hotel room and answer the FaceTime call.

My mother's face pops on, freshly moisturized face glowing. White furniture, arranged by a top decorator, appear in the background. I can practically hear the classical music playing, though my mother is sufficiently technical to tell Alexa to turn it off before she gets on a call.

"Finn Percival Carrington," my mother says, her voice loud and barreling.

My mother studied opera at her fancy boarding school, and she is fully capable of making herself heard to thousands of people.

Noah's jaw drops, and his skin pales, and he sends me a scared look as if he thinks teleportals might have become a thing and we'll find my mother in this bedroom.

"You're married." Her lips twist, as if she can't decide whether she's amused or angry. "You didn't tell me you were dating anyone."

"No."

"And you also didn't tell me you have a fondness for men."

"No." The pounding of my heart increases as I stare at her. Guilt courses through me, as if I've kept a secret from her for years. I slink my arm around Noah, relieved that he is here. "I have a fondness for Noah."

That does not feel like a lie.

"In fact, he's beside me. Would you like to say hi?"

"That would be highly appropriate," my mother says, her voice cool and crisp. "An etiquette must."

I glance at Noah. Worry darts over his face, and his green eyes are rounder than before. I trail my fingers around his arm, running up and down his muscular frame.

"Don't be scary," I tell my mother .

She rolls her eyes. "You both face off against strong men on the ice."

Noah's face is in one corner of the screen, and I make sure he's okay.

He looks nervous, and I squeeze his shoulder.

"My mother isn't actually scary," I tell him.

My mother clears her throat. "A healthy fear of in-laws is desired."

"Is that so?"

"I'm told it assures a more hasty answer of phone calls. And making sure I don't hear about major life events about my only child from my next-door neighbors."

"I'm sorry, Mother."

"I don't even like my next-door neighbors. Now they think I don't speak with my son, or that I'm homophobic and he was scared to tell me."

"I'm sorry."

"You know I don't care," my mother says, and her voice wobbles.

"I should have told you," I say. "We thought the ceremony was secret, but the tabloids found out. Now everyone knows."

"That must be stressful," my mother says.

"It is."

Noah pats my leg, and I smile, and place my hand over his. Strictly speaking that's not necessary, since the phone screen shows our faces, and not our whole bodies. But maybe it helps for overall body language or something.

"When can I throw you a party?" Mother asks.

"That's not necessary," I say.

"Nonsense. I need to introduce Noah to everyone. And Noah needs to meet everyone."

"You don't need to go to any expense."

"I'll decide that."

I nod. I know better than to argue.

"Noah." My mother turns her attention to him. "Tell me about yourself."

Noah draws back. "I play hockey." Then pink ascends his cheeks. "Not like Finn, of course."

"Where did you go to college? What did you major in?"

"Mother—" I say.

"I went to the University of New Hampshire. But I, um, dropped out to join the AHL. I was studying exercise science though."

Mother flinches. "How interesting. And when did you seduce my son?"

Noah's eyes widen.

"It was a mutual seduction, Mother."

Now Noah's cheeks pinken.

The conversation is spiraling. Noah is becoming more nervous, and Mother is becoming more dismayed at her new son-in-law.

"Finn, your father and I will visit you this weekend. Noah, I hope we can meet your parents then too."

Noah's face whitens.

"It was nice speaking to you, Mother. We have to go now."

"Fine. But don't think I don't know you're making an excuse. I have been a hockey mother for years."

I give an awkward laugh .

"Don't forget to tell me when you want your wedding celebration to be."

"It's not necessary..."

"Of course, it's necessary." My mother sighs. "Welcome to the family, Noah. I hope you make my son happy."

Then the screen goes dark, and Noah and I are left in the hotel room alone.

"How do you think your parents will react?" I ask Noah.

"I'm not sure."