Page 47 of Bleacher Report
Before I can ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean, Slade walks back in from the kitchen, carrying a stack of pizza boxes that smell like melted cheese, fresh dough, and heaven.
It takes all of three seconds for every guy in the room to hit pause on the game and make a beeline for the food.
Because if there’s one thing this team takes more seriously than hockey—it’s pizza.
“How’s fake domestic bliss going, Reed?” Wolf asks as he walks up to the basement bar, grinning as he grabs a soda fromthe cooler. “You start picking out his and hers throw pillows yet?”
Luka chimes as he makes his way from the living room. “He’s probably got matching monogrammed robes.”
Olsen reaches past me for a plate. “Whatever the hell you do, just don’t ask me to be a groomsman at your fake wedding if this gets any crazier. I get itchy when I lie. But I will come to the bachelor party. I wouldn’t miss that.”
“Jesus Christ, Bozey,” Trey says. “The man isn’t going to marry the girl. Not even dodging his crazy ex is worth that.”
I tilt my head and raise my eyebrows. There’s just about nothing I wouldn’t do to keep out of Bethany’s well-manicured claws.
Slade sees my expression. “Seriously? You’d take it that far.”
I laugh it off because otherwise, this team might have me committed to a loony bin for even considering it.
“No…of course not. Marriage isn’t on the table, even if it’s fake.”
The guys all chuckle and dive back into their conversations about Thanksgiving plans, and then our next out-of-town game coming up the morning after, and I let them.
Let them assume this is all lighthearted and funny and easy.
Because the truth? None of this is easy.
Bethany’s circling. My mom’s keeping secrets. And I’ve somehow moved into a stranger’s house just to avoid one woman while pretending to date another.
If that’s not the definition of a mess, I don’t know what is.
But when I picture Peyton’s face this morning—still half-asleep, hair sticking out in all directions, sleep lines on her cheek—I can’t help the way something settles in my chest.
This might be fake.
But for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m losing.
“Are you headed back to New Jersey to see your mom for Thanksgiving?” Trey asks over his shoulder as I follow him to the large couch, we find a spot to sit down and eat.
“No, it’s not enough time to get back. What are you and Adeline going to do?” I ask.
“Oakley’s has the bar open for players who can’t make it home for the holidays. It sounds like half the team is going there. Since it’s just Adeline and me now, it should help to keep her distracted that this is the second year without them. She’s excited to go since it’s the only time she can get in as a minor.”
I nod. Holidays are hard when you lose someone you care about. My mind flashes to Peyton and how she mentioned that her dad died young and suddenly back to our kiss last night. “Yeah, I might do that too.”
“You’re not going to spend Thanksgiving with Peyton’s family? I know this is all fake, but you two seemed to be getting along last night at the open skate night.”
I hadn’t even thought about asking Peyton about Thanksgiving, mostly because it feels like I’m encroaching in on her life enough as it is.
I wish I had time to go home and see my mom. But she’d be busy anyway, and I’d be following her around all day. She volunteers at a soup kitchen every year, then her salon does a Thanksgiving dinner, and then she goes with her singing group to an old folks’ home to sing Christmas carols.
If I showed up with this little notice, I’d be her plus one she’d be dragging around town.
Oakley’s with half the team is good enough for me. And I’ve heard that the spread that Oakley’s puts on is impressive. Unless of course, Peyton wants me to go with her. She did mention that her nephew is one of my biggest fans. Since I’m coming to his career day, it might be a good time to meet him, but I won’t bring it up. If she wants to ask, she will.
I stay another hour or so, watching Luka dominate on Slade’s PlayStation, putting everyone to shame.
And then I get a text from Peyton. It’s a picture…of the bed…with double the pillows for her new and improved pillow wall. Where did she even find all of those? I snicker, wondering how long this took her to build.
