Page 9 of The Pucking Fake Marriage

Alex’s thick eyebrows rise up to form twin arches on his forehead. “What happened?”

I’m almost offended. “What, a single guy demands time alone and that’s confusing to you?”

“He played horribly,” Blake informs Alex, a former Titan himself. Alex quit the team to become a full-time husband and father, a decision which still stuns me. Though, I’ve got to admit he looks far happier than he ever was being on the team. “Tanner was mad.”

Alex looks like he’s trying to bite back a grin as he starts the car, and we zoom away from the Titans’ training center in Northeast Philly. “He’ll get over it. It’s only the first practice of the season.”

There’s a moment’s silence in the car, and I feel a hint of apprehension. And then…

“Ken has an identical twin.”

Of fucking course.My fingers fold into fists as I glare at Blake through the rearview mirror. It’s a little too late, though, because Alex’s mouth is already gaping open as he stares at me.

“How come none of us knew this? Hell, even the blogs have no idea, or they’d have flushed him out by now.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The only antidote I can think of to calm the storm roaring in my head is her. But thinking of her stirs up a different kind of frustration. Before long, there are drumsbeating in my head.

“Kind of creepy. The sameness always freaks me out for some reason.”

“You and Brit are practically identical,” Alex throws at Blake, laughter in his voice. Yeah, Alex married Blake’s little sister. It’s a mark of how well Blake is doing now that he doesn’t even react to Alex’s words. Plus, I can tell they’re both still focused on me. “Are you okay, man?”

I force my lids open. “Fine,” I spit through gritted teeth.

Alex keeps staring at me. “Is there an issue with your brother? Is that why you were so off today?”

I run my fingers through my hair, more of a preventive measure to stop myself from hitting Alex than anything else, really. “We haven’t spoken in ten years. I don’t even know where he lives.”

Wrong thing to say,I realize. Alex’s jaw gets even slacker. A rude hoot from a driver in the next lane interrupts us—Alex almost hit him.

“Start looking at the road, or we’re going to die soon,” I tell him, flashing a grin I don’t quite feel. Nothing about this conversation is amusing.

Alex snaps back to looking ahead, but he doesn’t stop trying to piss me off. “You haven’t spoken in ten years? What’s up with that?” Through the mirror, I can see that Blake is also waiting curiously for an explanation.

Damn it all to hell.

My throat clenches as I weigh the options. Talk about Charlie and what happened in Las Vegas… Or tell them about the most horrible thing that ever happened in my life. Interestingly, another thing Charlie played a part in.

Since I’m going to have to talk about her either way, I decide to keep my mouth shut.

“We fought.” That’s all I can say about Kali without punching a hole through the passenger window.

Something in my voice must have given away my lack of patience because Blake finally changes the topic. “Know how I can get a new marriage certificate, Alex?”

At the word “marriage,” I feel my mind burn with a strange sensation. Before I can place it, Alex lets out a guffaw, turning around to look at Blake.

“Tired of Faye already? Her fans are going to kill you if you announce a divorce.”

“Seriously, Alex, look at the road.” Leaning over, I pull the wheel and turn it toward the right lane.

Alex barely notices. Not surprising. The only thing I hate more than answering questions is being with them when they start talking about marriage. I become the odd one out real fast.

“You know that’s not it,” Blake growls. “Faye left ours on our dresser, and one night while we—” He clears his throat. “Well, I wasn’t paying attention, and it tore. How can we replace it?”

Alex bursts into loud laughter. A reluctant smile tugs on my lips. I know exactly what Blake was doing when the certificate ripped.

“Dunno, ask Brit. She knows weird stuff like that.” Alex finally turns around and says, “Damn.” I look out of the passenger window just in time to see us speeding past a U-turn. “I just missed our turn.”

NowI can feel smug. “The next one is not for another twenty miles.”

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