Page 60 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son

“Okay.”

I step away as he takes over his zippering. I slide his hat over his head, make sure it covers his ears and start to put on his gloves.

He giggles. “I’m not helpless.”

“Of course not. But we are in hurry.”

I take Oskar’s hand and lead him away, noting how his eyes flare when we touch.

“You don’t have to hold my hand everywhere,” he says.

“Is advantage of marriage.”

He opens his mouth, then shuts it, sending me a blissful smile. “Okay.”

I squeeze his hand, and we hurry down the corridor. Some of my teammates stream from the locker room, but there’s no way I’m going to stop for conversation now.

“It’s just family dinner,” Oskar says.

“Is first time I’m meeting your mother and sisters.”

“I thought you met them before.”

“I’ve waved to them. Said hello. Never spent time with them.” I squeeze his hand. “This would be easier if I had. You should have invited me beforehand.”

He grins. “I didn’t expect you to become my husband.”

I shake my head. “Thought Harvard students were supposed to be able to anticipate the future.”

“Nope. Never anticipated that I would marry a Russian hockey player.”

“You should ask for a refund from Harvard,” I say.

Oskar giggles and I remove my phone. “Siri, what is the best wine store near us?”

Siri gives her mechanical instructions, and soon I’m ushering Oskar into my car and we’re hurrying to the nearest wine store, then we’re off to Coach’s suburban house.

I am not nervous.

No.

I still tighten my grip around the steering wheel though.

“Tell me everything about your mother, Oskar.”

“Everything?”

“Is important. She needs to like me.”

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks,” he says. “Even if she hates you, we’ll still be married.”

“You deserve to have husband your family likes.”

“I—” Oskar opens his mouth, then shuts it.

Maybe he’s thinking that this relationship doesn’t matter, because it’s not his forever one.

“That’s nice of you,” he says finally with a smile.