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“So she gave you an ultimatum?” Ben asks gruffly.
“No, she gave me honesty. Mila doesn’t sugarcoat things.”
Beau laughs and I cut him off with a look.
“Sorry,” he says, his smile sliding away. “It’s just that that’s a huge understatement. Mila not sugarcoating things. Because there’s no coating whatsoever. She fucks people with no lube.”
“Fuck you. She gets shit done and she’s a generous team owner.”
Beau gives me a genuinely remorseful look. “I’m sorry, man. That was unfair of me.”
The sound of the door from the garage into the mudroom opening tells me Mila’s home. I point at Beau and Ben.
“Not another word,” I whisper.
“Hey babe,” Mila calls out from the kitchen. “I got your hemorrhoid cream.”
Beau and Ben try to snicker silently as I close my eyes. She saw my teammates’ cars in the driveway and now she plans to make me as uncomfortable as possible in front of them as she can.
“And I googled it since you didn’t want it in your search history,” she continues. “Having a dildo in your ass is perfectly fine even if you have huge hemorrhoids inside.”
Beau looks like he’s having trouble breathing from trying not to laugh out loud, and Ben’s shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.
Mila comes around the corner, carrying three pizza boxes and two boxes of wings.
“Oh, hey. Your food’s here. Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
“Hey, Mila,” Beau says, smiling.
“Hi,” Ben says.
“Hey, good to see you guys.” She sets the boxes on the coffee table. “Do you want me to get some plates, my love?”
“Nah, I’ve got it.”
We walk into the kitchen together, where I take three bottled beers out of the refrigerator.
“Are we playing games now?” I ask her as I pop the cap off of a beer and take a drink.
She gives me an innocent look. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
We just stare at each other for a few seconds. What I really want to do is kiss her and apologize for this morning, but if I do, I’ll have to talk to her about what happened. I’m not doing that.
“This isn’t the time for this conversation,” she says in a low tone.
“I guess not. But enough of your bullshit.”
She laughs bitterly. “So you get to decide when it’s enough of my bullshit, but I don’t get to have any say over yours?”
I’m not missing my brother’s first pro game to talk in circles with her. We pissed each other off this morning and I guess it’ll be over when we both decide to get over it.
I shake my head and get plates and napkins for dinner, walking out of the room when she says to my back, “Don’t try to sex your way out of this later.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, dove.”
I get back into the living room, where Beau is giving me a knowing look.
“You want us to go?” he asks softly.
“No.”
Ben looks at Beau. “I think we should go.”
“No, seriously. We’re good. We had a little spat this morning but we’re fine.”
I look at the TV, pumping my fist when I see that Heath’s team is now up 2–0.
“He got an assist on the second goal,” Ben says. “He’s really good, dude.”
“He is. I think there’s a good chance we’ll be playing against him someday.”
“That’s cool as hell,” Beau says. “Your parents must be proud of you guys.”
“Who knows, I haven’t spoken to them in a long time.”
Beau grins and says, “Well, I’m damn proud of you guys.” He raises his beer bottle. “Toast to Heath’s first game and his bright future in hockey.”
We clink our bottles and dig into the food. I don’t see or hear from Mila again, but once my teammates leave, my happy beer buzz makes me decide to go try to make peace with her.
My bedroom door is locked. I shake the handle, wondering if she locked it on accident.
“Mila, open the door.”
“Fuck off,” she says from inside the room.
I scoff and turn around, walking toward the guest room.
Kicked out of my own damn bedroom. Beau’s right. I jumped into this marriage with no regard for how hard it might be. No matter how great the sex is, I’m stuck with a hothead now.
At least Heath is getting to prove himself.
Maybe Mila will cool off when I’m on the road trip I leave for tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll return and find I’m locked out of my house entirely. Knowing her, it could go either way.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mila
When I walk into the kitchen the next morning, Colby is standing in front of the stove, pouring a bowl of eggs into a skillet.
“Hey,” he says.
“Good morning,” I say crisply, getting out a travel mug to fill with coffee for my drive to the office. “Is it okay for me to keep using the Range Rover?”
“Yep, I can take my truck.”
