Relief darts over Finn’s face, and I hate the way happiness descends so readily over his face, contemplating that he never touched me. I hate that that is a cause for joy. Most of all, I hate the pang of disappointment in my body.
“Okay. That makes sense,” Finn says.
“Maybe this is a fake document,” I say, because, despite everything, I want to make him happy.
“Like a joke?”
He scrunches his lips together, then his eyes widen. “Maybe the team is pranking us!”
I nod, because I like the excitement in his voice, and it seems technically possible.
I mean, mightn’t NHL teammates prank one another?
“Maybe we should contact the, um, wedding bureau to see if we’re actually married?”
Finn snorts. “I don’t think it’s called that.”
He scrunches his lips, and I wonder if last night we kissed. Why did he book the honeymoon room for us? I look away because I shouldn’t be staring at some guy’s lips. Some guy’s lips who might be my husband.
I glance at the document. It looks super official.
Finn grabs his phone, then smiles. “X is boring today. Apparently, nothing interesting is happening in the hockey world.”
Finn concentrates on his phone again, then steps away. I hear him speaking to someone, hear his face pale, then nod.
“So?” The word shouldn’t be hard to ask, but my voice totally wobbles.
“We’re married. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Finn still looks crushed.
“But the news isn’t out,” I remind him, enjoying how his face brightens.
“No one has called us,” Finn says. “My agent would be all over this if he knew.”
I feel a wave of relief. I don’t want Finn to regret hanging out with me. He barely knows me, and I don’t want to cause him a massive PR nightmare.
“Guess it’s good we went to a different hotel,” I say.
Finn nods. “We’ll figure out how to get an annulment, and that will be that.”
“Cool.”
“I’ll sort it out once we return to Boston. Don’t worry. And at least neither of us have girlfriends who would be upset.”
I snort. “That would be difficultto explain.”
Finn chuckles. “How was your trip, babe?”
I laugh at his falsetto. “Super great, but I accidentally got married.”
Finn’s laughter rises, then he grows more serious. “It will be fine. We’ll keep this secret. Gotta pinky swear though.”
He stretches out his pinky, and I join with my own. I haven’t pinky sworn since I was in single digits. Maybe that’s why a wave of emotion rushes through me, as I link my pinky with his. Nerve endings dart, my heart patters, my skin heats.
“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” Finn vows.
