by Danica Flynn
We were quiet for a minute because I honestly didn’t know what to say. My mom was right; I had made a mess of things, and it might have been at the cost of the best friendship I ever had.
“She asked for a divorce,” I admitted.
My mom’s eyes softened. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”
I cringed, knowing now I had to explain the next part to my mom. “But we’re not getting one. At least not yet.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What do you mean not yet? Aaron Michael Riley! Did you get Fiona pregnant already?”
My face went as white as a ghost. “What? No! We always use—” I cut myself off and shook my head. I was not getting into my sex life with my mom, that was for sure. “I think it’s too early to tell for that, but no. We agreed to give it a shot. I have a couple months to prove to her that this marriage is gonna work.”
I hid my hands behind my face but noticed she wasn’t saying anything. When I pulled my hands away from my face, my mom stared back at me with the most amused look I’d ever seen on her face. Then she tipped back her head and laughed like a hyena.
“Okay…” I trailed off, utterly confused.
Mom kept laughing until she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “I’m pretty sure I read a romance book with this same exact plot.”
I gave her a sour look. I didn’t even want to think about my mom reading romance books. Ew, gross. Nope, not going to think about that one at all. Moms don’t have sex, nope, never.
Mom leaned back in her chair and cocked her head at me. “So, I’m gonna ask you again,” she began. “Why did you marry Fiona?”
I ran a hand down my face and sighed in defeat. “Because I’m tired of the single life, and I think Fi and I could be really great together.”
“Aaron,” she warned sternly.
“Fine! It’s because I’m in love with her.”
Mom patted my hand. “There you go. Glad you finally admitted it.”
I looked at her dumbfounded. “You knew?”
“Since you were teens, but then you started going out with that one girl.” Mom looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember, but I knew.
Stacey Graves. Or better known as the biggest mistake of my life.
Fi and I had been fooling around a lot back then, but then she heard that Stacey really liked me. She encouraged me to ask her out, and since I thought Fi didn’t see me as anything more than a fuck buddy, I did. Stacey was nothing like Fi; she was dramatic and high-maintenance, but she was also hot, and I was a horny teenager. Fi had started dating the captain of the hockey team, Jackson. It may have caused him and me to not be friends anymore when I threatened to straight-up murder him if he messed around on her.
“Stacey! I didn’t like that girl.”
“I was a kid!” I protested.
“I know, baby. So are you gonna fight for your marriage or what?”
I shrugged. “I don’t even know how!”
My mom smiled widely at me. “Start by telling her how you feel.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”
Mom shrugged. “Well, you won’t know if you don’t try.”
Chapter Thirteen
FIONA
I dropped down into a seat at a table in the coffee house in Rittenhouse Square, where I was meeting my agent, Brad. I didn’t know how I got so lucky to find a lit agent that was local to me. Brad had just moved back to Philly from NYC, and I was so glad because making the trip to get together with him could be tiresome. Also, he knew I didn’t like to leave my apartment.
I hadn’t told anyone in my literary circle about my busted up wedding day and had planned to hole myself up in Riley’s condo until I finished my book. But Brad saw my stories on Instagram and figured out quickly that I was not on my honeymoon. He basically harassed me into getting coffee with him. Plus, he knew I was procrastinating if I was on Instagram.
Riley had gotten in late last night, and then he had to go to morning skate before I woke up, so we kept missing each other. I remembered waking up last night to him, shifting into the bed and slinging his arm across my waist to hold me close, but otherwise, it felt like he was a ghost.
I set down my purse and my cup of coffee at the table. I glared at my agent. “You suck, you know that?” I asked.
Brad stuck out his tongue, ever the professional, but also why I was so glad he was my agent. He wore his thick dark hair in twists again. His dark brown, almost black eyes drifted down to the ring on my finger, and he looked pointedly at it. “Okay, you have to explain everything to me,” he urged.
I sighed and twisted the simple band around my finger. Katie had picked out some pretty simple wedding bands, which was perfectly okay with me. I had examined the simple band with the mil-grain detail and knew it felt like the right ring for me.
“Um…so I got married?”
“Yes, I gathered that, but someone told me not to your partner of five years!” he exclaimed and waved his hand around, all flustered. Someone named Katie probably.
I sighed and put my head in my hands. “Yeah…Eric didn’t bother to show up. You remember my friend Riley, right?”
“The hockey player? The hot one with the muscles as big as my head?”
“His muscles aren’t that big,” I muttered, but Brad laughed.
It was so a lie; he did have really big muscles. Shit, now I was thinking about those muscles lifting me up and fucking me against the wall. Hello, hormones. Why did my best friend/husband have to be so hot? And why hadn’t we had sex since our honeymoon?
“Okay, let me get this straight. The guy you were dating for five years left, you hanging, and you married someone else instead?” he asked.
“I know, it’s wild! I asked for a divorce, but he wants to stick it out. He thinks we could be happy together,” I explained.
“Oh, honey,” Brad lamented. “I think you married the right man.”
I took a drink of my black coffee so I didn’t have to respond. “Can we please stop talking about this and focus on this book that I still don’t know how to finish?”
Brad shook his head. “Um, no, I need more details. Like first, what did he do to convince you? Also, are you still living with your ex?”
I sighed and ran a shaky hand through my hair. I thought this was going to be a meeting to focus on my writing, not about my very weird marriage to my best friend. “He asked me to give him a couple months to prove it. And no, I ended up moving in with Riley. Mostly because I found a pair of underwear that weren’t mine under my bed!”
Brad scrunched up his face. “Ew!”
“Right? Eric’s sister found out he had been cheating on me.”
A scowl appeared across Brad’s face. Brad was in his mid-forties and had been in this business for a while. He was also so totally a dad. He was Papa Bear to all his clients, which was one of the things I loved about him. “What an asshole!”
I laughed and nodded.
“So, I want to talk about your book...but are you okay?”
“Riley’s been on the road this week, so I’ve had some time to think, and I think it’s a blessing I didn’t marry Eric. I think our relationship was over a long time ago, and maybe we were just holding on. But enough about that. Can we please talk about my writing?”
“Okay, fine. Where are you at?”
“I need to proofread, but almost done.”
His eyes cut across to me suspiciously. “Okay, but what’s the problem?”
I took another gulp of my drink and put a hand to my chin.
What was the problem?
That I thought it was hot garbage and everyone would want to dump the book right in the trash. That I wasn’t actually as skilled as I thought at stringing words into complete sentences. I thought that I was a fraud, and my publisher was going to figure that out when they read the stinking pile of crap that flew into their inbox.
“I think it’s bad,” I admitted.
Brad drummed his hands on the table in front of me. “
Why?”
I shrugged. “Everything I do is awful. It feels like I have the thoughts inside my brain, but my hands turn them into ash on the keyboard.”
Brad raised an eyebrow. “Okay...I think this is your imposter syndrome rearing its ugly head again.”
I frowned and took another sip of my coffee. He might have been onto something. I had inked a three-book deal with my publisher, and they were so far happy with my results. Book two had hit lists, not great, but it did okay, but I was so worried that this last book was going to tank. Or that everyone was going to hate it.
“Fi, turn in the book. It’s a first draft; stop holding on to it,” Brad urged.
“I’m not ready!” I whined.
“You’ll never be ready!” he exclaimed. “Again, it’s a first draft.”
I pouted and crossed my arms. “Okay, fine, but I need to proofread it before turning it in.”
I saw my phone light up with a notification, and I couldn’t help the smile from spreading across my face when I saw it was a text from Riley.
RILEY: Get off Twitter, and finish your book!
Brad nudged me with his foot. “Okay, what is that face? Who just texted you?”
My face fell in horror. “What? Nothing, no one!”
Brad’s face had a grin so mischievous that I wanted to slap it off of him.
“Oh my God, is it your husband? I need to meet this guy because your boring ex never made you smile like that!”
I sipped at my coffee and pretended not to hear that last part. It didn’t stop me from texting Riley under the table while Brad and I talked about my plans for stories after this trilogy was done. I had a few ideas but couldn’t really settle on one.
ME: Don’t tell me what to do!
RILEY: Just words of encouragement, sweetheart.
ME: Gah, I think it sucks real bad.
RILEY: I can’t wait to get home so I can read it.
ME: You want to read it?
RILEY: I NEED to know what happens next.
ME: You read the second book?
RILEY: Yes!!! Gimme the next one!
ME: Ugh, don’t you have some pre-game rituals you need to do?
RILEY: Yeah, I was wondering where you were. I just got home, about to take my pre-game nap.
ME: Work thing. I’ll see you later.
I looked up from my phone when I realized Brad had stopped talking and I hadn’t been paying attention. He glared at me and threw a napkin at my head. “You’re texting him, aren’t you?”
“No…”
Brad grinned again. “Okay, you’re so in love.”
“What?” I balked.
I bit my nails and thought. Could I be? With Riley? Could you fall in love with someone that quickly? Was that even possible? I definitely had been lying in his bed alone the past couple nights with a sense of yearning. Jury was still out on if that yearning came from my heart or from between my legs. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the answer yet.
I directed my attention back to my agent and shook my head vigorously. “I don’t know about that.”
Brad raised his eyebrows, and I put my phone away so I wouldn’t be distracted any longer. Brad was still smiling at me. “So…I’ve never been to a hockey game before. You think you can teach me?”
“Do you want to come over and watch the game with me?”
He nodded. “Yes, because I really think you need a break from writing tonight. You need to relax.”
One thing my agent Brad didn’t understand was that watching hockey was the least relaxing thing in the world for me. Especially when I was a rabid fan, and I was watching my husband take too many goddamn penalties and getting checked into the boards a little too hard. I took a swig of my beer, and my eyes darted across the flatscreen TV, watching the players shuffle down the ice.
Brad took another slice of pizza from off the coffee table. I had invited Katie over too, and they were arguing about whether my life was playing out like a fake marriage trope or a marriage of convenience trope.
Dicks.
“What position does your man play again?” Brad asked with a sparkle in his eyes.
I flicked him off. “Riley’s a D-man.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Brad asked with a laugh.
I shook my head. “Defense or blueliner.”
“It’s why he’s so big,” Katie joked.
I laughed.
Riley was a solid mass of muscle in front of the net, but he wasn’t the biggest guy on the team. He was a skilled skater and good at getting in front of the offense. I watched number twenty-two skate across the ice into the face-off circle. Benny was the biggest player on the team, and on skates, he looked way taller than his six-foot-four height.
I pointed at the screen. “Riley’s not even the biggest guy on the team; Benny is.”
“He’s dreamy,” Katie cooed.
I shook my head at her. “Calm your tits; he’s taken. I think. He’s the one who helped me move in here. He seems like a total sweetheart. He’s Riley’s best friend on the team.”
Brad whistled as he looked around the place again. I was aware that Riley’s condo was impressive. From the granite countertops to the wide windows with the nice city view, he did live in luxury. It was so weird that I was also living here now.
“He’s worked really hard all his life for these millions,” I defended him.
Brad held up his hands. “Hey, I didn’t say anything. So explain it again, how do you have an offsides in hockey if it’s like, you know, on ice?”
I ignored his question because I saw Riley get checked hard into the boards. Right in the fucking numbers. Where was that fucking penalty?
“Shit!” I yelled.
Brad and Katie scanned the TV to see what I was seeing. “What happened?” Katie asked.
“Riley took a bad hit,” I yelled, not particularly at them.
I chewed on my nails. I loved this sport, but I worried so much about the damage it could do on the players. Especially now that one of those players was my husband. Riley had minor injuries throughout his career, but being the person on the sidelines watching him wreck his body, I was afraid for him.
“Is he gonna be okay?” Katie asked.
I nodded, but I wasn’t that confident as I watched Riley hop onto the bench for the shift change.
I loved watching Riley play hockey. I spent most of my life watching him on the ice, and it always made me so proud to see his accomplishments. I watched his big body tear across the ice, and I could almost hear the delicious sound of his skates biting into the surface. I loved the sounds of the game, that scritchy-scratchy noise of blades and the thwack of the puck into the netting. Watching hockey on TV was fine, but it was nothing like live hockey. I could have asked Riley for tickets tonight, but I didn’t want to overstep my bounds. I knew I was a wife now, and I should be in the wife’s room or whatever, but I wasn’t sure if his teammates even knew he was married. Maybe he took his ring off when he left. We hadn’t really talked about it.
I jumped and cheered when I saw Riley block the shot and the Bulldogs get possession of the puck. Noah Kennedy had the breakaway and scored the game-winning goal. “Fucking right, baby, that’s how you do it!” I exclaimed.
Katie and Brad laughed at me. Brad shook his head. “You really are a hockey fan.”
“I’m from Minnesota; it's kind of not a choice!”
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Brad exclaimed and reached down into his bag to pull out a paperback book. He handed it to me, and I nearly peed myself with laughter at the cover with the half-naked man with ice skates in his hand. “My wife really liked this one and thought you might like it.”
“Oh yeah, I think I read the first one in this series. They are very steamy.”
Brad smiled. “I’ve met Ruby a couple times. She does the whole self-pub thing.”
I thought about doing the self-pub thing before, and despite what people said about it being easier, it was not. You had all the control, which wa
s great, but also bad because you were in charge of everything yourself. It was a lot of work. I didn’t think I was built for that.
I peered at the name on the cover in interest and flipped to the back, where a brunette in cat-eye glasses stared back at me.
Katie’s eyes sparkled. “I know! You should write a steamy romance book next!”
Brad had his agent face on. “You could do it under a pen name if you want; it might be a good idea.”
“Hmmm…I don’t know. But I will definitely enjoy reading this,” I said evenly. I finished the rest of my beer and took it into the bin in the kitchen. “You guys okay to drive?” I asked.
I didn’t have a car because I never needed one with public transportation, even though SEPTA was reliably unreliable. Just because I didn’t drive didn’t mean I didn’t want my friends to get home safe.
“I’ll take an UBER,” Katie assured me.
“You sure? I mean, we do have a bed in the office if you want it,” I suggested. Katie’s apartment in Mt. Airy was a bit of a hike from Center City, and I worried about her being alone at night.
“I’ll drive you home,” Brad offered. Brad didn’t drink, so I knew he was okay to go.
“Oh, no, it’s out of your way,” she said.
“Katie, take the ride. Mt. Airy isn’t that far from Chestnut Hill. Thanks, Brad.”
Brad gave me a thumbs up, and he helped me clean up. I hugged both of them goodbye and thanked them for coming over. Brad was right, I did need to relax, and then I could work on my book with fresh eyes tomorrow.
I put away the leftover pizza and changed into pajamas. I then parked myself on the couch with the sports news channel still on while I dived into the very sexy book that Brad’s wife had recommended. She always had the best tastes in the smuttiest romances. I freaking loved it.
Chapter Fourteen
RILEY
I had hoped I would see Fi before leaving for the game, but she was nowhere to be found when I came home for my pre-game nap. I had slid into bed late last night, and she had curled into my side, but then I had to get up early for morning skate. Leaving my bed warm with her next to me had been torture.