Page 6

Crooked Halo

Mia

Later that night, I ran a hot bath and sank into the water along with my complete disbelief of what had transpired.

Aleks Suter was officially my fake boyfriend.

And soon — my fake fiancé.

It was surreal, enough so that I was having one of those out-of-body experiences where the day didn’t feel real. It was almost as if I were floating above my body and watching in a heated daze as the bubbles rose higher in the bath around me, like I was watching a TV show of someone else’s life.

I turned the water off with my toes once it was high enough, sighing a bit as I plunged farther in. My phone sat on a small wooden table next to the bath along with a hand towel and a glass of white wine — something buttery and delicious that Cora had poured for me before retiring for the evening.

I’d turned my phone face down to keep myself from staring at the screen the entire time I was supposed to be relaxing in the tub, but it taunted me.

Because within an hour of our phone call, rumors had started to fly — and now Aleks and I were all over the Internet.

It started with a fan account of mine with millions of followers posting a video with a montage of press videos and photos showing all the times Aleks and I had been spotted together over the years. That one had been courtesy of Isabella. We knew that fan well enough to know she’d run with any information that was leaked to her.

I had to admit, the photos and videos Isabella had scrounged up were pretty convincing. Aleks wrapping me up in his big arms after his win in New York, us laughing at a restaurant with my parents last summer, his hand on the small of my back before the benefit concert last month…

From the outside, it looked like he was protective of me, that he wanted me, maybe even loved me.

Of course, I knew the truth.

I knew he saw me more like an annoying little sister than anything else.

After that video was posted, gossip sites ran wild with the quotes from Isabella’s inside source saying that I was unbothered by Garrett Orange’s article because the points he’d made were laughable, considering I was happily in a relationship with Aleks.

Then came the fans with theories and timelines — one in particular that was gaining speed and quickly going viral. We hadn’t even planned this one, but she’d put together a very convincing argument that Aleks and I had been secretly dating since February, and that Aleks had been the first person I’d run to after the breakup with Austin last summer.

She even asked at the end of her video if her followers thought that maybe there was something there before the breakup?

It wasn’t just a little match strike and a slow burning candle flame of a rumor.

No, already it was a forest fire, roaring and spreading faster than we could handle.

Isabella assured me all was fine. She was glued to her phone as she kissed both my cheeks and left earlier, and I trusted her when she told me she had it handled.

But now, in the quiet of my home that was far too large for just me, I couldn’t help but prickle with anxiety.

I didn’t want to lose my grip on the situation — not when I already had so little control of what people said about me. This was a narrative we were creating, one I had the power to curate.

And I knew exactly what I needed to feel better.

Drying my hands on the plush white towel, I grabbed my phone.

Me: We need ground rules.

It only took a few seconds for the little dots to start bouncing, and then a reply came through.

Aleks: And this is a text that couldn’t wait until morning? It’s 2AM, Strings.

I cursed. I hadn’t thought about the time difference before shooting off that message.

I also couldn’t fight the way my stomach somersaulted at the familiar nickname. It didn’t matter how many times he’d called me that since we were sixteen. Every time he did, I felt my cheeks heat just like they had that first time.

Me: Well, for how quickly you answered, I assume you weren’t sleeping. Did I interrupt the porn video playing on your phone?

Aleks: More like the live action porn in my living room.

I scoffed, but something sour sank into my gut at the sight of those words. I was fairly certain he was kidding.

But I was also fairly certain that he could have a porno playing out in his condo any time he wanted it.

Aleks: Why do we need rules?

Me: Because this thing is already tailspinning, and I want to make sure we’re on the same page with everything.

Aleks: That’s my Mia. Trying to control the uncontrollable.

My Mia .

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen those words or heard them from his mouth, but they still sliced me open just the same.

I was never his. I never really would be.

And I was pretty sure he was doing all of this out of pure pity and boredom.

Me: First of all, you have to clean up. You’re a nightmare to deal with when you’re drunk.

The little dots appeared again, indicating that he was typing a response, but then they disappeared. They popped up once more, but then were gone again.

Then, the phone rang, Aleks’s face filling the screen.

And not just for a regular phone call.

For a video call.

“Shit,” I cursed, looking around the bathroom like there was something in there that could save me. In my panic, I answered the call, but with the option that only connected me to audio. The screen filled with a dark image of Aleks, one tattooed arm propped behind his head and a sleepy grin on his face.

“Hi,” I said.

“Turn on your video.”

“No.”

“If you’re going to call me an alcoholic, at least have the balls to say it to my face.”

“I don’t have balls, and I didn’t say you were an alcoholic.”

“You insinuated it.”

“No, I insinuated that you can be a messy drunk — which you proved to be true countless times in high school and every year since — and that I don’t want to deal with it as your fiancée.”

He paused, that sleepy smirk firmly in place. He stared at the screen as if he could see me through it even with the camera turned off. “Fiancée,” he mused. “Has a nice ring to it, eh? Should I practice introducing you as the future Mrs. Suter?”

His Swiss-German accent was so slight now that it was barely anything at all, but sometimes, like when he said his last name, I heard it. It brought me back to when we were kids. His English had been phenomenal even then, but now? If you didn’t know he lived in Switzerland for sixteen years, you might never have guessed.

Especially since he didn’t talk about it much.

When we were kids, he’d been tight-lipped about his past until one night when my parents were at a charity auction and we were home alone. We’d snuck a bottle of Dad’s vodka and hung out in the hot tub, and for the first time, he’d opened up to me about his parents.

How his mom and dad were addicts, how his mom had died when he was just a toddler, how his father had taken off shortly after and left him in foster care, only to die a couple years later, himself. How Annaliese, his foster mom, had saved him.

That was a past he was trying to run from, not one he wanted to broadcast.

“Please, like I’d take any man’s last name.”

He chuckled. “Turn on your damn video, Strings.”

“I can’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I’m in the bath.”

He fell silent for a beat, and even though his screen was dark, I swore I saw his jaw tighten a bit with that admission. It reminded me of the time when we were teens and he’d walked in on me getting out of the shower in our shared bathroom. I’d had a towel wrapped around me, but that didn’t stop me from feeling naked under his heated gaze when he dragged it from my damp hair all the way down to my toes.

Before I could analyze his pause too much, he sucked his teeth, leaning up against his headboard and flicking on a lamp so I could see him better.

“Come on. We’re getting married. Can’t your future husband get a look at the goods before purchase?”

“You’re a pig.” I huffed. “Hold on.”

I used my free hand to wash all the bubbles up around my neck, making sure there wasn’t so much as a glimpse of my goods , as Aleks had called them, before I allowed access to my video.

“There,” I said when my image flickered on. “Happy?”

“Very,” he mused, rolling his lips together in that stupid, infuriatingly sexy way he always had. “Although I’d be even happier if a strong wind would whip through and blow those bubbles away.”

“I’m about to blow you , if you don’t stop,” I warned.

And then I paled, because what the fuck did I just say ?

Aleks’s eyebrows shot up, the corner of his mouth tilting. “This is turning out rather nicely for me.”

“I— I meant—”

I shook my head, too flustered to even try to figure out what I meant because seriously… what the fuck?!

I growled, glaring at the screen when Aleks chuckled at my misfortune.

“Okay, funny guy, can we be serious for one minute.”

“I’ve probably got thirty seconds max.”

“Aleks.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, wiping his hand over his face. As he did, he wiped away his smile and frowned. “Serious face on. Don’t be a drunk prick. Got it. What else?”

“Thank you.” I sighed. “Okay. No hooking up with other women while we’re… whatevering. The last thing I need is a story running that you’re cheating on me. That would just make me a bigger fool.”

“But isn’t that your genius publicist’s idea for how this all will end? Me being seen with a woman crawling all over me, painting you as the poor girl who can’t save me from my bad boy ways ?”

“That’s different,” I defended. “That’ll be on my terms, and with a full PR plan behind it. We don’t need any surprises.”

“No surprises. Got it, Mom.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Speaking of which… how, exactly, are we breaking this to your parents?”

“It’s already done.”

That surprised him, judging by the tic of his brow. “Oh? And how did they take it?”

“You know them,” I said, waving my hand before I grabbed my glass of wine and took a long sip. “Mom thinks it’s ridiculous, but after hearing Isabella out, she’s fine with it. Just wants us to be careful. And wanted to know if this means she’ll see you for the holidays because she misses you more than me, as per usual.”

He smirked at that.

“And Dad…” I swirled my wine before draining the last of the glass. “Well, he’s… Dad.”

My eyes flicked to Aleks before I turned my attention to where I was setting my empty glass down.

“I can’t imagine he’s thrilled about it,” Aleks said.

“He’s on board.”

“On board, but not happy.”

I waved another mountain of bubbles up toward my collarbone. “He doesn’t like lying in any capacity, even if it’s with good intentions.”

Aleks fell silent, his nostrils flaring a bit like he knew that fact about my father all too well.

They had such a strange relationship, my father and Aleks. If it weren’t for Dad’s love of hockey, Aleks might never have made it to the States to play. I could still remember how excited he’d been the day he and Mom went to pick Aleks up from the airport, how he was already beaming with pride even before he met the kid.

My dad loved having him living with us. He treated him like his own son. He supported him mentally, emotionally, and financially. Sure, the team paid for his food and housing with us, but Dad went above and beyond to give Aleks the best — just like he would have if Aleks were his blood.

But he was also hard on him — way harder than he ever was on me.

It was like Aleks was the son he never had, and Daddy was never shy about his expectations. I’d witnessed Aleks get a reaming more times than I could count, especially when he first moved in with us. He was reckless then, quick to break a rule as soon as my father laid it out.

Over time, I watched their relationship morph. Aleks began to respect my father, and soon, to almost idolize him.

Still, there was something there that I didn’t quite understand, some kind of riff between them. Maybe it was because my father always knew Aleks could do better, be better.

Or maybe it was because Aleks just wanted my father to leave him alone.

He wanted everyone to leave him alone.

“Rich, you know,” Aleks said, content to drop the parent subject. “That you’re lecturing me about my drinking while you suck down a bottle of wine.”

“It’s one glass.”

“Sure. You forget I know you. I’ve seen you play slap the bag and drink a line of defensemen under the table.”

I chuckled at that particular memory, one from a high school party where I’d let loose maybe more than I should have.

And then my smile slipped because that was the same night I’d asked Aleks to kiss me.

The same night he’d told me he never would.

I cleared my throat. “Anyway, what about you? What rules do you want to put in place?”

“Hmm…” He tapped his chin. “Well, this is a pretty long dry spell you’re asking me to have… does that offer of you blowing me still stand?”

My jaw hinged open at the salacious grin on his face.

“Aleks Suter,” I scolded. “If you were here, I’d splash you.”

“And I’d do a victory dance because then those bubbles would be gone.”

“You’re impossible.”

He chuckled. “Relax, I’m just fucking with you. Whatever rules you want to put in place, I’m fine with. Truth be told, after talking to G… I really do think you’re saving my ass. Dick will be thrilled with the brand deals and ticket sales. He’ll be happy to see some media attention on me that isn’t negative.” He shrugged. “And, not that I really care that much, but I guess it’ll be nice to not lose my job.”

“You’d die without hockey.”

The way his shoulder inched up again, his eyes avoiding the screen…

It made my stomach drop.

Because that look told me there was truth behind that statement I’d said as a joke.

And if he’d die without hockey, and he didn’t care if he lost his job, then that meant…

“Aleks…”

“I’ll be good. Promise.”

I swallowed, not wanting to drop this without talking about it, but knowing him well enough to know it would be useless to try.

“He says, with devil horns holding up a crooked halo.”

Aleks gave me another sleepy grin that had me flashing back to high school again, to when we’d stay up long past our bedtimes talking about everything and nothing at all. I could almost smell him, ice and sweat and mint. I could almost feel his arm brushing mine and my cheeks heating as I tried not to let him see that I had a crush.

A foolish girl, that’s what I had been.

“I’ll make a list,” I said. “But you should get some sleep.”

“Oh, now she’s concerned about my beauty rest.”

“I’m getting pruny and need to get out of this bath.”

“Now that’s a sight worth losing sleep over. Just prop the phone up and—”

“Good night, Aleks.”

He was still laughing as I ended the call.