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Embarrassing.
And driving me up a goddamn wall.
A slap on the back drags me out of my reverie, where I’ve been fiddling with my skate laces for more than ten minutes.
“Hey. What’s up, Jonas?” I ask.
He has baby puke or something nasty on his fleece pullover. I don’t tell him. He already has enough to worry about. Like turning two little people into functioning human beings all by himself. I mean, he has help from his family and a nanny or two. But the bottom line is that when it comes down to it, the buck stops with him.
Kid gets sick? He takes them to the doctor.
They outgrow their little baby outfits? He has to find new ones.
And when he sometimes would rather come out with us guys rather than stay home and change diapers? Yup—he stays home with the rugrats.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Why are you so out of it? Get a move on. We gotta get on the ice,” he says.
I shake the cobwebs out of my head. “Right. Right. I just haven’t been sleeping that well.”
He leans closer. “You staying up all night with that pretty wife of yours?” he asks in a whisper.
I drop my head into my hands. “Dude. I wish. She’s sleeping in the guest bedroom.”
His head snaps back on his neck. “Oh. That’s cold.” He looks around the locker room to check on our privacy. “But I guess it’s to be expected.”
I nod. “Guess so. A fake marriage does not come with pussy, at least not in my case.”
He scrunches his face up. “Rude way to talk about a nice girl like Petal.”
The new guy to the team passes us, and our conversation ceases until he’s out of earshot. The only people who know the truth about my ‘marriage’ are the gang who were in Vegas with us. Of course, they are sworn to secrecy. They’re my best friends, so I have no worries about them spilling the beans.
But other guys on the team? I’m not so sure. We all get along great, but that doesn’t mean one well-meaning person isn’t going to blab to two more, who will share the news with three more. Can’t risk it.
“Whatever, Jonas. I keep thinking this is all a big mistake, misleading everyone and their mother over this. That it will blow up in my face and I’ll end up with a worse mess on my hands than I ever would have getting into bar brawls.”
He slaps me on the back. “You’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.”
I can’t really bellyache to him. He lost his freaking wife and is left to raise two little ones on his own. My problems are nothing compared to what he’s been through.
And yet.
The new guy—shit, what’s his name?—swings by again on his way to the ice. “Hey, Rake, congrats on your marriage. That’s some crazy shit, getting married in Vegas.”
He’s not wrong about that. But I know what he’s after. He’s perplexed, like everyone else in the world, about why I married someone I don’t even know.
I can’t tell him it was on a dare, even though that’s the truth.
And that now I need to stay married to her, for at least as long as she can stand my ass.
“It is crazy, um, Benson?”
He nods. Good. I got his name right.
“But she’s really special. What can I say?” I ask with a laugh.
“Well, congrats, man. I wish you guys the best,” he says, and heads out of the locker room.
