Page 21 of Gloves Off

“Again?” my mom asks my dad. “He’s won it more than once?”

“Three times.” He nods with enthusiasm. “That’s what’s so impressive?—”

“I got married,” I blurt out, and both my parents slowly turn to me. Jordan puts her head in her hands.

My dad blinks, fork hovering in midair. “Excuse me?”

“Did you say you gotmarried?” my mom repeats.

My heart hammers up into my throat. If anyone’s going to see right past me, it’s them. “Yep.” I can’t get a full breath. I feel sick. “To Volkov.”

My dad turns the game off, and silence stretches between all of us. I can hear my pulse in my ears. I stare at the table, but I can feel their gazes searing me.

My mom is the first to break the silence. “You called him a stubborn, conceited, sexist pig who thinks he knows better than everyone.”

Well, he is. My chin dips in a nod. “Yes. I said that.”

“You hate him.” My dad rears back. “I can’t say a word about him without you going red in the face.”

I just keep staring at the table. Also true. Why did I think this would work? I’m a day in and the plan is crumbling into dust.

My parents look at each other before they break out in beaming grins.

“Knew it.” My mom shakes her head, eyes sparkling. “What did I say, Shane?”

Uh, what? I’m flooded with relief. Guilt follows, because I’m lying to them.

“You knew it,” he confirms with a proud nod before he gives me a teasing look. “Honey, you can’t fool us. We know you too well.”

“You didn’t know it.” My voice holds a touch of defensiveness.

“We did,” Mom insists. “He’s the only player you have such a strong response to.”

“Because he’s such anasshole.” She gives me a strange look. “Because hewassuch an asshole,” I amend. “When we first met. And now he’s great. I—” I force the words out. “I love him.”

Jordan closes her eyes, her mouth tightening like she’s trying not to laugh.

“How long have you two been together?” my mom asks. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I think about what Volkov and I agreed upon. “We just, uh… didn’t think it was going anywhere.”

My discomfort must be written all over my face, because my mom reaches out and gives my arm a squeeze. “It’s okay. We know being vulnerable is hard for you after the whole Liam thing.”

My blood pressure skyrockets. I hate when she brings it up so casually like that. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I thank the universe every single day that my mom called and asked three times if I was very, very sure this was what I wanted, and on the last time, when I didn’t answer, she booked me a flight home to Vancouver before calling the UBC admissions people to reverse the change.

“I’m just saying, we’re thrilled you’re in love.” She gives me a soft smile. “I’m not surprised he fell in love with you. You’re extremely lovable.” She winks at Jordan. “You, too, baby. You two are catches. Anyone would be lucky to be with either of you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Thanks, Cece.” Jordan gives her a tiny, amused smile.

“So when do we get to meet him?” my dad asks.

“He’s really busy with games and training.”

Maybe I can put them off until the spring, when his season isover. By that time, we could already be separated, and there would be no point.

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