Blind Pass (Carolina Comets)

Rhodes’ parents are going to be here any second, and I could vomit.

It’s one thing to pretend to be married in front of our friends—it oddly didn’t even feel pretend at all—but it’s a whole other thing to pretend in front of his parents.

I think another reason I’m feeling a little sick is that tomorrow Rhodes has his first game of the season, and I’m genuinely nervous for him.

Before Harper met Collin, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you a single thing about hockey other than that the players are known for having great butts. But watching Rhodes prep for the season over the last few weeks has been so fascinating. His routines. The way he gets into his head and focused on the game. It’s all so…intense. I mean, Rhodes is an intense person in general, but this is different.

There’s also a small part of me that’s a little sad hockey season is about to officially kick off. I actually missed him when he was gone for preseason games.

I wouldn’t dare tell him that though. He’ll let it go to his head.

I hear the garage door open, and I freeze in my tracks.

Oh no. They’re here.

“I’m not ready!” I yell to a still empty house.

But it doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not. It’s happening.

“Well, this doesn’t look good at all.”

I whirl around to find Rhodes standing in the open garage doorway.

He’s looking back and forth between the item I’m holding and my wide eyes.

“Are you that nervous that you’re drinking this early?”

“What?” I chuckle, then cover my mouth because it sounds nervous. I sound nervous. Which doesn’t make me look suspiciously drunk at all. I tuck the bottle of wine I’m holding behind my back. “I wasn’t drinking it, I swear. I was panic cleaning and remembered I left it in the freezer last night and I was moving it to the fridge.”

“Panic cleaning?”

“Yeah, you know, that thing you do right before someone comes over.”

“Why are you panic cleaning? We have housekeepers.”

“Because I’m nervous!”

“Nervous? What’s there to be nervous about?” Rhodes’ mother elbows past him and into the house, sending him a dirty look. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, go help your father unload the car.”

She continues into the kitchen, heading straight for me.

Then, she wraps me up in the warmest hug I’ve ever had and squeezes me tight.

It’s heaven. Actual heaven.

“Oh. My. Goodness. It is so nice to finally meet you!”

I squeeze her back just as tight. “Me? Pfft. It’s so great to finally meet you, Margaret!”

She’s a petite woman with a soft middle. Her hair is the same tawny color as Rhodes’ and hangs in loose curls just beyond her shoulders. Her eyes are a warm brown and her smile is bright enough to warm the room as she beams at me.

“Call me Maggie,” she says. “You are family after all.”

She hesitates on the word family just the slightest, and I can hardly blame her for that. With how suddenly Rhodes and I got married, it’s no wonder she’d have trouble using that term.

“I can’t wait to get to know you. Rhodes has told me so much about you.” He has? She laughs. “Oh, I can see the worry in your eyes.” She pats my cheek. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. It was all good things.”

Now I’m wondering what exactly it is he told her.

“Ha. I hope so. Rhodes speaks very highly of you and Oscar as well.”

She blushes when I say her husband’s name like she’s still completely smitten with him. It’s sweet. I want something like that.

For the briefest moment, I imagine what that could be like with Rhodes. If he would still be smitten with me like that years later.

But I brush the thought off quickly. There won’t be years for us. It’s just one year. And none of this is real.

Rhodes and his father come barreling through the door, and I can hear they’re talking hockey.

“I’m telling you, it’s going to be St. Louis you have to watch for this year. They’re—” His father stops midsentence, his mouth dropping open as he blinks at me.

I could do the same because I feel like I just met a time traveler. There’s no way this isn’t just Future Rhodes here to trick me. The two look so alike it’s scary.

If Rhodes ages half as well as his father…damn.

Rhodes looks from me to his dad and then back again.

I lift my shoulders because I have no idea why Oscar is still staring at me with a look of shock and awe. Or why he’s raising his finger and pointing at me.

“Holy shit! You’re the alien chick!” Alien chick? “Son, why didn’t you tell me you were married to the alien girl?”

“I wasn’t aware she was an alien.” Rhodes looks at me. “How could you not tell me you’re an alien? Great! Now the whole marriage is a sham!”

I tuck my lips in, trying hard not to laugh as he smirks at me, enjoying our little inside joke.

“Well, she’s not a real alien, but she does her makeup like one.”

Wait a minute… “You watch my videos?” I say to Rhodes’ father.

He nods enthusiastically. “All the time. Every Tuesday like clockwork. I love the video you did where you transformed into Lady Gaga.”

Maggie gasps. “I knew she looked familiar! You’re The Beauty Bell!” She looks at her son. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

He shrugs. “I wasn’t aware you two were avid makeup tutorial connoisseurs.”

“Well, you know we were watching that Drag Race stuff on the TV, and the way they transform themselves…well, it’s hypnotizing! So amazing to watch. We got on YouTube to find some more videos, one thing led to another, and, well, here we are.”

My brows shoot up because I am truly and utterly flabbergasted. I was not expecting this.

“Oh, you have to do one of your looks for us! We want to see the behind-the-scenes magic!” Maggie claps her hands together. “It’ll be so fun!”

I inwardly groan. I will definitely have to find a way to get out of that. It’s awkward enough filming myself for YouTube sometimes. I can’t imagine doing it with an audience.

Rhodes looks at me. “I think my parents are bigger fans of yours than they are of me.”

“No,” his father says at the same time his mother says, “Yes.”

We all laugh.

Maybe this visit won’t be so bad after all.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, ref! Open your damn eyes! That wasn’t a trip!”

And here I was thinking that based on the way Maggie sobbed during the opening ceremonies as the Comets raised their Stanley Cup Champions banner, she would be the more laid-back one during the game.

I was definitely wrong.

Oscar yanks on Maggie’s #6 Rhodes jersey, tugging her back down into her seat. “Now, Maggs, don’t be getting yourself all worked up.”

Maggie flops back down in her chair, her beer splashing out over the rim of her cup. She shakes her head. “I swear, these refs are just out to get us tonight.”

I love how animated Maggie is watching Rhodes fly down the ice. She loves watching her son play hockey, that much is obvious.

I love watching him play too.

I came to several games last season with Harper thanks to Collin hooking us up with tickets, but I never felt as invested in the game as I do now.

Then I cheered on the team.

Now I’m cheering on Rhodes.

“We’re still up three–two, and we have a whole other period to play. We got this. I’ve been watching their goalie and he’s getting gassed pretty quick. If they keep shooting top shelf blocker side, they’ll be up five–two in no time.”

“They’ve got to stay out of the damn box first,” Maggie says.

Honestly, I’m still a little lost on all the logistics of it, but I love watching them play. If you take out all the hitting and punching and a bunch of full-grown men just dogpiling on each other, it’s a beautiful game.

Oh, who am I kidding? That part is beautiful too.

And hot. So, so hot.

I’ve been half-horny all night watching Rhodes out on the ice.

He scored a goal earlier, and when he did, he pointed his stick right at me and winked. My panties have been soaked since.

Which is really inconvenient since I’m sitting next to his parents.

“I’m with Maggie on this one, Oscar. These refs are a damn joke tonight,” Harper complains, shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

I want to laugh because she’s gone from not knowing what a hockey puck was made of to criticizing the refs so fast since she started dating Collin. It’s cute how involved she is. Normally, Harper would be in the WAG lounge, which is reserved for the wives and serious girlfriends, but she hates it there and wanted to watch the game with us.

The buzzer sounds as the period comes to an end.

“We’re going to grab some boiled peanuts and stretch our legs a bit. Want us to bring you ladies anything back?” Oscar asks, pushing up out of his seat.

I try not to wrinkle my nose at the mention of boiled peanuts, something I could never get into. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”

“I’m good too, but thank you,” Harper says.

“All right, but if you need anything, just text us, dearies.” Maggie pats my shoulder, then shimmies down the aisle to meet up with Oscar.

“So, how’s it going with them?” Harper asks once they’re out of earshot.

“Good so far. They won’t stop giving me suggestions on what character I should turn myself into next, but it’s fun still.”

“Not awkward at all? You pretending to be married to their son and all that?”

“Actually, no. Not really.”

And it’s the truth.

I love Rhodes’ parents. They’re loud, entertaining, and so incredibly sweet. They’ve welcomed me with open arms, which is more than I could ever ask for.

And really, it’s not been hard for Rhodes and me to act like we’re married. We’ve just continued the same routine we’ve had for the past month.

It’s almost as if we actually are husband and wife.

“Ryan! Harper!”

I turn toward the voice calling to me and let out a squeal when I see who it is. We rise from our seats and meet our friend Denver halfway down the row.

“Oh gosh, it’s so good to see you! What are you doing here?” I ask, hugging her.

“Shep is here schmoozing some people, so I tagged along to get out of the house a bit to escape the chaos of my children.” She points up to the suites. “I saw you two from up there and had to come say hi.”

Last year I sold some photographs to Denver and her husband, Shep, who happens to be Collin and Rhodes’ agent. Us ladies quickly hit it off, and we’ve stayed connected since. As a gift, Shep gave me tickets to a Comets game. It just happened to be the game where Collin and Harper met.

And I guess where I met Rhodes for the first time too.

I still remember the way he looked at me through the glass after he and Collin crashed into the boards, scaring the shit out of me and Harper. Our eyes locked, and I was in awe. Sure, he had that same scowl he still wears on his face, but it didn’t stop me from finding him attractive.

I still do too.

“Anyway,” Denver says, “I, uh, heard about your…situation with Rhodes.” She leans in close. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Did Rhodes tell you?”

She lifts her shoulders. “I mean, not officially, but Shep isn’t completely clueless. He was able to piece it together when you two went from being nothing to married in a weekend.”

I cringe. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It happens. Honestly, if you ask me, it sounds like something straight out of a romantic comedy. Who knows? Maybe you’ll fall in love for real!”

Love.

The word trips me up.

Sure, things have changed for us since we started sleeping together, but love? No. That’s not what this is. It’s just two people in an impossible situation making the most of it…right?

I force out a laugh, hoping no one catches on to how fake it sounds.

“Anyway,” Denver says, “I just wanted to come down and say hi to you both. I better get back up there though before Shep wonders where I am and goes looking in supply closets for me.” I lift my brows, and she waves it off. “Nothing. Inside joke with us.” She hugs me again. “It was good seeing you. We should get together for lunch soon.”

“That sounds great,” I tell her.

“Definitely,” Harper agrees.

We make plans to meet up the following week, and she takes off back up the stairs. Luckily, before Harper can make any comments about what Denver said, Maggie and Oscar return. I ignore the hole she’s staring into the side of my head as the third period kicks off.

Before I know it, I’m engrossed in the game, forgetting all about Denver’s silly fantasy. The Comets take two more penalties—I’m starting to think Maggie was onto something there—and unfortunately, the other team capitalizes on one.

It’s down to just three minutes on the clock, and it’s tied 3–3. The atmosphere in the arena is tense, everyone hoping the reigning Stanley Cup champions can somehow push ahead and win their first game of the season.

Rhodes is out on the ice. He’s holding the puck behind the net, waiting for his team to make a line change. The moment Collin’s skates hit the ice, Rhodes takes off. He passes the puck over to Collin, who shoots it back to him.

They drive into the zone and set up the play, playing hot potato with the puck, looking for a way to get it to the net. They’re trying to wear the other team down, confuse them. And when Collin fakes the shot, then passes to Rhodes, it works.

He fires a wrister at the net and it sails over the blocker side of the goalie, just like Oscar said they needed to do. The lamp lights up red and the place goes wild, everyone jumping out of their seats cheering—me included.

“BEEEAAASSSTTT!” we all cheer in unison, high-fiving and hugging strangers like we’ve known each other forever. It’s exhilarating.

After it’s over, Rhodes is named the first star of the game and takes a quick interview with the announcer. He looks so uncomfortable during the whole thing, and I know it’s because he hates the attention.

The place begins to clear out, and we leave too. We have plans to meet Rhodes and Collin at Slapshots, a local hockey bar, after they’re done with their postgame stuff. I guess this is a tradition the guys have.

It doesn’t take us long to walk to the bar. Despite the place being crazily packed, we grab a table in the back and order some appetizers and drinks.

Oscar and Maggie are chatting with a few other hockey parents—people they know from attending games over the years—and Harper is deep in discussion with another player’s girlfriend about some movie that came out recently.

I don’t know how long passes until two arms slip around my waist.

I know instantly it’s Rhodes.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask, turning in his arms, looping my arms around his neck. “I figured it would be a while still.”

“I always slip out early. Besides, Coach already gave us a speech, and there’s no way I’m doing any interviews.”

“Not even as the first star of the game?” I grin at him. “You played great, by the way. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah?” He tugs me closer, smiling down at me. “How great we talking here? On a scale of one to I get to see your titties tonight.”

“I’d say the chances of it being a titties night are excellent.”

“Excellent, huh? Damn, I should have aimed higher. Maybe gone for—”

“If you’re even thinking about bringing up what I think you’re thinking about, it’s a no. Exit only for now.”

His smile grows. “For now, huh? Noted.”

“God, you’re annoying.” I try to push from his hold, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he heaves me closer.

“You like it.”

“Do not.”

He slips his hands into my hair, tilting my head back so I’m looking up at him. “Do too…wife.”

Then, he kisses me, and that damn four-letter word filters through my mind for the second time tonight.

Love.

Only this time, it doesn’t trip me up nearly as much, and I don’t know how to feel about that.

“Don’t forget, I like my wieners—”

“Long and thick? Oh, I am well aware, Maggs.” Oscar bounces his brows up and down at his wife.

“Well, yes.” Maggie blushes. “But you know I meant well done, Oscar.” She slaps at him playfully.

I glance over at Rhodes, who looks like he’s about to vomit.

“I think your father is talking about his dick.”

Rhodes glares at me. “Shut—and I mean this respectfully—the fuck up.”

I laugh. “Oh, lighten up. Your parents have seen each other’s naughty bits. They’ve even had sex, Rhodes.”

“I want a divorce.”

I lift a brow. “Really, now?” I hold my left hand up and pinch my thumb and forefinger around my wedding band, tugging it up. “Because I’ll—”

He points the tongs he’s holding at me. “Don’t you fucking dare take that off.”

A shiver runs through me at the low growl in his words.

I’ve come to learn that Rhodes really likes the look of a ring on my finger, and I have to admit, seeing him all riled up about it does something to me I can’t explain.

It makes me feel good, desired…and confused.

I push that part away.

“I’m going to go check on the macaroni. Try not to let visions of humping and grinding and your par—”

“Ryan Bell!”

I cackle at the way his face reddens, then quickly slam the back door closed as he charges at me.

The door slides open shortly after, Maggie following me into the kitchen.

“Would you like some help?” she asks as I pull open the oven to check on the food. “I’m great in the kitchen.”

“Sure. Can you grab the toppings from the fridge and get them settled on the platter? The macaroni is nearly finished. Just need to let it broil a bit longer.”

“Of course.”

She busies herself gathering the toppings from the fridge and arranging them like they’re being photographed for some fancy food magazine.

I stop in front of the kitchen sink to wash my hands so I can help, when from the corner of my eye I catch Rhodes outside.

His head is thrown back in a laugh over something his father said, and he looks so…free. I’ve noticed that about him recently. How his smiles are coming easier, and his shoulders aren’t as weighed down by that invisible weight he seems to carry. I’ve even noticed that he full-on laughs at least twice a day now. A feat for him, really.

It’s…beautiful. He’s beautiful.

And right now, in this moment, with the sunlight hitting just behind him, he looks picturesque.

My hands ache for the weight of my camera to catch this moment.

“The way you look at him…” Maggie’s words draw my attention. “It’s…well, it reminds me of Oscar and myself.”

A twinge of guilt hits me, her comparing our fake marriage to their very real one.

“It does?”

“Yes. The way you love him is clear as day, and I have to say… I’m so happy. I’m so happy because I was so worried he wouldn’t ever find this kind of love. Not because he doesn’t deserve it or because of that damn scar that changed his life. But because I was scared he wouldn’t allow himself to be loved like this. With you, I don’t have that worry. He’s finally back to…well, himself.”

I wasn’t expecting her to say that. And I really wasn’t expecting the burn at the back of my throat.

I swallow, trying to find words. Any words.

But nothing comes.

She rests her hand on my forearm as I blink back the tears stinging my eyes. “I’m so glad you’ve found each other, Ryan. You’re good for him, and something tells me he’s good for you too.”

Something tells me…she’s right.