Page 59 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son
Dmitri’s face is already pale, but he nods. “It could have gone worse.”
“Yeah. That’s true.”
I chuckle, and Dmitri snorts.
“Come, Oskar.” Dmitri leads me from the interview room, and only when he stops in front of my office do I realize that he’s been holding onto my hand the whole way back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dmitri
My muscles scream as I drag myself off the ice. Coach’s drills pushed me harder than usual today. He’s been extra brutal since the wedding. Punching me wasn’t enough. But I can take it. What I can’t take is disappointing Oskar’s family at dinner.
“I hope you haven’t forgotten, Volkov,” Coach says, his eyes promising fresh vengeance if I have.
I swallow the urge to say something sarcastic. It’s easier to resist that impulse now that Coach is no longer attacking me. “I’ll see you at dinner, Coach.”
“Make sure you bring good wine,” Coach says. “None of that boxed stuff or things in cans. Ingrid will be unimpressed.”
“I’ll bring wine.” I give a decisive nod to show I’m serious, then hurry past the others. “I need shower. Is important!”
Finn laughs behind me. “Feeling extra dirty, Dmitri?”
I turn around and scowl, tearing off my athletic gear and throwing them into the hamper.
“We don’t need to see a full frontal,” Jason says. “This is too gay.”
“Hey!” Finn tosses a dirty tank in Jason’s direction.
Noah cringes. “Sorry, Dmitri. Jason is like that sometimes.”
I furrow my brow as Jason leaves the room. “I didn’t realize he acted like that.”
“Welcome to our point of view,” Noah says.
I nod slowly, then remember that I need to get ready. Dinner is soon, and I don’t want to keep Coach waiting.
I bound into the shower room. I scrub my body because no way am I entering Coach’s house smelling like anything less than perfect.
I move hastily, dry even faster, then hurry to pick up Oskar from his office.
A few people shout after me, but I don’t care.
Oskar is shutting off his computer when I enter, and I grab his coat and help him into it.
Daniela raises an eyebrow. “You’re very helpful.”
“Is important evening,” I tell her. “I’m meeting Oskar’s mother and sisters.”
“They’re not scary,” Oskar assures me.
I narrow my gaze. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
His eyes widen.
I grab his scarf and wrap it around him, then zipper up his coat.
“I can do that.”
