Page 60 of Proposal Play

Plus, itwasan impromptu wedding.

Miles scoffs. “The DickNose board disagrees.”

“And the DickNose board doesn’t lie,” Wesley puts in.

But whether the board is an oracle of romance or not isn’t the issue. I’m not about to spill my guts to my teammates about my feelings for Maeve when I’ve barely begun to figure them out. I grab my jersey, ignoring them. It’s not like they need me this second since they’re too busy talkingaboutme.

“But don’t worry,” Max says dryly. “We’re here for you. Even if you weren’t here for us.”

“First off, did you ever consider maybe there’s a reason I got hitched in Vegas instead of, ahem, near all of you assholes?” I ask as I tug off my shirt. “Second, have you ever heard the phrasewhen in Vegas? So, there you go.”

Here’s hoping that throws them off the scent.

“Sure, Callahan,” Max says, like he believes me, then tosses me a private look that sayssomething’s up. But he won’t press now, and I appreciate the tact—if that’s what it is.

Wesley pipes up from his stall, “And just to show there are no hard feelings about us all being snubbed from yourspecial day, we made you a ‘Top Five Things To Do Now That You’re Married’ list.” Sheepishly, he adds, “Josie loves lists. She got me addicted.”

I groan and drag a hand down my face. These fuckers. Why did I not see the DickNose board coming?

The team captain strides to the corner of the locker room and taps the whiteboard with his stick. I stand at my stall, arms crossed like I can brace myself for the hell of all hell they’re about to give me. He clears his throat and brandishes his left hand, speaking in a voice full of authority. “Number one: Get a silicone ring for when you’re on the ice because gold isn’t going to cut it in the rink.”

Oh.

I glance down at the simple gold band on my finger, then at his silicone one. That’s actually a good point. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Fair enough,” I mutter.

Max joins Christian and points to the next item. “Number two: Get her a diamond. Pretty sure she didn’t have one in the photos. And you can thank Everly for noticing that.”

My pulse spikes. Why didn’t I think of that either? But if I play this wedding off as an elopement, we’re good. When you elope, engagement rings probably aren’t top of mind, but…yeah. I’ll still have to fix that. Fast.

“We eloped, but you’re right. Good thinking,” I add, grateful for these guys.

Wesley grins as he taps the board now. “Number three: Start doing cute couple shit. Farmers markets, carving her name into a tree, swinging at the park. You’re in your domestic phase now, Callahan.”

I groan, rolling my eyes. I might be known as the residentgood guy, but no way am I going to embark on asaccharin tour of couple Pinterest. “I’ll save that for you and Josie. Next.”

“Watch your mouth. Josie and I are aces at cute couple shit,” he says.

“They are,” Christian grumbles.

Miles takes his turn, lifting a finger, dark eyes serious. “But don’t wait too long for number four: Make it official on social media. You can’t go under the radar too long.” There’s a heaviness to his voice, maybe even regret. He’s definitely speaking from experience. Then he adds, like a warning, “Nothing counts until it’s on social, right?”

Pretty sure they’ve guessed this whole thing is fake, but I keep my game face tight. Because their advice is solid, and I appreciate how, in their messed-up way, they’re looking out for me. “Got it.”

Hugo rises from his stall, heads over to the board, then nods to the final item, his tone dripping with innuendo. “Take it from me because my life’s goal is keeping my wife happy—give her a hat trick before you score even one goal for yourself.”

Christian, Max, and Wesley raise their sticks in agreement. So does Rowan Bishop, one of of our defenders. He’s here too, watching with amusement on his usually grumpy face.

“Well, thank you. You’re all the best marriage counselors a guy could ask for,” I say.

The room erupts in laughter, and I flip them off as I grab my gear. I’ll talk to Maeve about all this stuff tonight when she’s done with her catering gig. It’ll be fine. We’ve been in sync on everything. We’ll be in sync on these housekeeping details too.

I sit on the bench and lace up, then Rowan smacks his forehead. “Wait. How the fuck did we miss this?”

I turn to him and arch a brow. “Miss what?”

He’s shaking his head like he’s disappointed in himself. “Let us know when you move in together. A friend of mine owns a moving company. Happy to hook you up.”

My brain short circuits. “Move in together?”

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