Page 26 of Rule 1: Never Accidentally Marry Your Teammate

“N-no.”

“Because everyone knows you’re straight.”

It suddenly occurs to me how terrible this is. This is the news that makes national headlines. Have any two playerson any team, in any sport ever gotten married?

“Why would it be bad?” I ask.

“Because you’re not taking marriage seriously,” Vinnie snaps.

His gaze darts to Evan, then he looks away quickly.

Maybe he wanted to ask Evan to marry him.

And maybe I’ve made a mockery of their love. Can I announce that it was a joke? That Noah and I got married in Vegas because we could?

No one would be happy with us. The team’s reactions make that perfectly clear. They can tease us for secretly running off together, but they don’t want to think we did this to mock gay marriage.

“The last thing I remember from when we were last in the locker room was you spouting homophobic statements.”

“I wasn’t,” I say.

“It doesn’t look good,” Vinnie says.

And I’ll give him that.

It looks terrible.

I glance at Noah. We’re supposed to meet with Coach and be sent to HR for further training on how to be decent people. Noah almost got sent back to the AHL. Plenty of people are willing to take his place. In a battle between the captain of our exceedingly awesome team who has been a Blizzard for most of his career, and Noah, who got here a week ago and had the worst entrance to the NHL in NHL history... Well, this doesn’t look good.

I won’t ruin Noah’s career. No way. Absolutely not.

This is his chance. I won’t destroy his life because he made the mistake of becoming my friend.

I need to fix this.

I rise, so I’m practically eye-to-eye with Vinnie. I am not going to have him lecturing to us while we’re sitting.

“Obviously, we did not intend for this to get out.” I grab hold of Noah’s hand, noting his wide green eyes and the zing that moves through me as he tumbles up beside me. “Excuse us, while I confer with myhusband.”

I drag Noah out of the room before he can say anything, my heart pounding fast, fast, fast, as I feel everyone’s eyes on us.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Noah

Finn marches through the Los Angeles arena, still holding my hand tightly. I’m not sure if he’s realizing he’s doing it.

He ushers me inside, putting a hand on my back, then closes the door.

“You didn’t tell them the truth,” I say.

“I-I know. I’m sorry.” Finn rakes his hand through his hair in a frantic motion I don’t associate with him, and I soften.

“It’s okay.”

He blinks. “It is?”

“If you think we shouldn’t tell anyone, then we shouldn’t.”