Page 19 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son

Oskar blinks. “Where are we?”

“We need to get rings, Oskar. This is our wedding.”

“But—”

The limo driver opens the door and ushers us outside. Oskar’s feet still drag on the pavement.

“Something is wrong. What?”

“I—” His long lashes flutter up. “I thought we would buy something silly in the gift shop or something.”

“I do not buy silly things.”

“Right. Of course. But—” He inhales, and I see the way that his breath moves. “I think Finn just gave Noah his class ring. It doesn’t have to be fancy.” He eyes the shop. “Those rings cost real money.

“You deserve a nice ring, Oskar.”

He still hesitates, and I take his hand. It’s larger than a woman’s hand, and it trembles. Maybe I should have asked if he was okay holding hands.

I eye him. “Come, Oskar.”

“But—” He gazes at our joined hands.

His cheeks flush again, and I wonder if the concierge at our hotel can get some medicine in the room for him. He is probably coming down with a cold.

“We are getting married, Oskar,” I say. “People about to be married hold hands. Is problem?”

His eyes are too round, and my heart sinks.

Shit.

It’s a problem.

He doesn’t want to do it. I withdraw my hand, trying to smile. “Is fine, Oskar. I understand. Is a lot to ask for. It was nice of you to consider to marry me—”

He blinks, then shakes his head. “I’ll do it!”

“But—”

“I said I would do it.”

Relief moves through me, but I still narrow my gaze.

“What was the problem then?”

“I know you are straight,” he says, “and—”

“I can hold hands with man, Oskar. I do not melt like wicked witches in Oz.”

“I shouldn’t have shown you that movie.”

I shrug. “Is good movie. And your favorite children’s movie. Of course I wanted to see it.”

Some emotion I don’t recognize moves into Oskar’s eyes, but then he nods. “So we’ll hold hands.”

“Is practice for when we have to tell everyone we’re married.”

“And you really don’t mind? Because I’m a man, and...”