Page 155 of Facing Off
“Why?”
“Because I lo—“ He clears his throat. Then wait a pause before winking. “As your husband, it’s my job to make sure you don’t ever have to do anything unpleasant.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Right. How could I forget about that?”
Adrian’s hand comes to rest on my back. “I’ll think of something else. Take ownership for lying, and say I’m not your husband. We don’t have to lie if you don’t want to.”
It’s the reasonable thing to do. There’s no benefit to doubling down, especially since if we don’t clear the air now, this lie is only going to grow bigger and spread further. The people inside the gala are pillars of an insular community. If we go ahead with this, soon everyone in the ballet world will know I’m “married” to Adrian Hughes, Captain of the Vancouver Wings.
We shouldn’t?—
And yet.
“Maybe a while longer…”
“It’ll help…” he says.
“We’re smart. We’ll figure out how to get out of it later.”
“It’s a tomorrow problem to solve.”
I’m nodding. He’s slowly grinning.
Settling both hands on my hips, he pulls me closer. “I’m your husband.”
“Oh, God. You’re going to be obnoxious about this aren’t you?”
His grin goes crooked and teasing. “Me? Obnoxious?”He laughs. “I’d never be obnoxious to my wife. Because you’re my wife. My wifey forever. And I’m your husband. Isn’t that right, wife?”
I tuck my face against the shoulder of his tuxedo. “That answers my question.”
“Wifeeeee,” Adrian croons, singing it softly above the crown of my head.
It’s going to be a long night of dreadful pandering, but he’s already making it more than survivable. Because the more he sings, the more I’m hiding a genuine kind of unfolding smile.
61
ADRIAN
Everything she expectedto happen is happening.
As soon as we push past the doors in the lobby and officially enter the gala, a crowd approaches us. Apparently there’s crossover appeal between ballet and hockey, wherein all they want to do is talk about the latter.
Too bad I refuse to give an inch.
“Hughes.” A man introduces himself as a prominent donor to Madame Kozlova’s dance company, shaking my hand. “Great to meet you. What’s the plan this season?”
“Cheering for the best dancer I’ve ever had the honor of watching. Have you met Sonya, my wife?”
The donor’s eyes move to her and he shakes her hand. “How is it like being married to one of the most famous men in the city?”
My wife thins her lips, before trying to reshape them into a smile.
My vision dims.
No. She doesn’t have to do that.
“You’re asking the wrong question. Everyone needs toask me, what’s it like being married to the most talented ballerina in the city?” I glance around at the growing number of people gathering. “How familiar is everyone with ballet?”
