Page 181 of Ice Dance Hockey

He snatches it from my hands on the way by and then he reads the letter as I open drawers in search of a clean dishtowel and a Ziploc bag.

I wrap my baggie of ice in the towel and sit my ass on the counter so I’m the right height to look after him. “C’mere, gorilla.”

Dazed, he makes a home between my legs, and I pull him in for a kiss before gently pressing ice to the area around his eye, avoiding the eye itself. He winces.

“Lo, we’re married.”

“No shit.” I press into his bruise harder until he winces and gets the message.

“How can you blame me for this?”

“It’s easy. You share DNA with the man. Fix it, Elkington.”

His lips twist and I can read him like a book. He’s trying to come up with an argument to convince me to stay married to him. “I think we shouldn’t be too hasty. Maybe this was meant to happen.”

“Rhett—”

“Please. Just think about it for one more day? One more day doesn’t hurt anything.”

Those hazel eyes of his are going to be the death of me. I sigh. “One more day.”

“I think we’ll have to get a divorce.” He frowns.

“Why?” I don’t like that word, not in reference to us.

“We don’t have solid grounds for an annulment. We agreed to it of sound mind. We’re of age … and we definitely didn’t have any trouble consummating it.”

“That’s still a thing?”

“Yes. You can get an annulment if you’re unable to consummate the marriage.”

We consummated it a lot. Does the amount play a factor? ‘Cause if so, we’re tied for life and maybe our next lives, too.

I sigh. “Since when do the rules suddenly apply to you?” But I know the answer. When he doesn’t want to do something.

He shrugs.

“Then we’ll have to get divorced,” I say, calling his bluff.

“After you think about it for a day, husband.” He kisses my nose sweetly.

I grit my teeth. He’s impossible, but he’s adorably impossible and I don’t have the energy to fight this kind of adorableness today after everything yesterday.

“Then as my husband, you’re not allowed to leave my sight at all today. Got it?”

“If I could, I’d never leave your sight period and you’d never leave mine.” He lifts me from the counter, and I grip him with my thighs. “Now, c’mon. Back to bed. We have a little more consummating to do.”

* * *

Nerves wrack my body until I’m sure it’s not just the chill of the arena. Today we compete to qualify for nationals—Scott and me. I know we’re as ready as we can be, but this is important, and I can’t shake the anxiety.

Everyone’s here, every last Meyer. They flew to New York just for me, and I love that they did, but there’s only one man I’m looking for right now.

My husband. Yeah, four weeks later and we’re still married because he’s inherited his mother’s skills for negotiating and I can’t bring myself to tell him to get me divorce papers or else. I’m weak when it comes to Rhett. It’s not even like all his arguments have been good ones. Last week he told me that taking away my title as his husband was like taking away a little boy’s favorite Christmas toy. The fact that I am not a toy was neither here nor there because he proceeded to prove that I am indeed a great sex toy. He fucked me sideways with his magic dick, and it bought him another week of married bliss.

Rhett and Jack hustle in and slip into the seats with the other Meyers. Linden makes his way to Kam with as much popcorn as the big lug can carry, giving Kam a dopey, love-sick smile and kissing his nose. Why’s everyone around me so gross? Rhett and I are never that gross.

But now that Rhett’s here, I can stop looking at all the people who’ll be watching me in the packed arena and focus on him. Even all the way over there, he quiets my brain’s incessant ramblings, vanquishing them to the dark hole they came from. He’s wearing a brand-new red and black checkered mackinaw with a furry collar and a ball cap. His dark hockey hair curls out from under the sides. He’s grown it out a little longer and he’s embraced a casual look when we’re not headed somewhere fancy.

---