Page 65 of Puck Yes

Then Aubrey shoots me a frustrated stare. “Also, I hate you. That’s not fucking fair. When do I get my turn on the double-dude merry-go-round?”

Trina points down the street. “There’s a ticket counter at the fairgrounds. Just order two for the price of one and you’re good to go.”

“Thanks for the tip,” she deadpans, then turns back to me. “Now. Story time. And start at the beginning.”

“I will, but how did you guess who it was?”

She taps her skull. “They seem like the type who’d give a good dicking.”

“You’re not wrong. Also, who knew pleasure could be exponential when it’s doubled?” I whisper.

Trina clears her throat, all over the top. Takes the time raising her hand.

Aubrey slumps in her chair, hands raised in surrender. “Seriously, what does a girl need to do to get in on the double-duty action?”

“It’s not all fun and games,” I say, since as good as the night was, now I have to deal with the mess during the day. “Have I mentioned that I’m stuck being married to only one of them while I still want to seebothof them?”

Aubrey mimes playing a small violin. “Poor baby.”

“Seriously, though. What do I do? I didn’t sign up to be a fake wife.” I take another drink.

Trina sets down her coffee and gives me a thoughtful look. “What do you want to do about it? Do you want to come clean to the team owner? That’s a viable option.”

I shudder, immediately and involuntarily. “Jessie’s been good to me. I don’t want to let her down. I don’t want to draw more attention to myself either.”

“There’s your answer. You have to pretend,” Trina says. “For a reasonable amount of time.”

My gut swirls, but I know she’s right.

“Do the charity event,” she continues. “Then move on and it’ll be fine. Relationships don’t always work out. Maybe in a few months, you can quietly divorce. It’s not like Jessie’s going to sayyou must stay married forever. It sounds like you’re just trying to get through a couple months to save face, to be honest.”

I give that some thought as I take another drink. That sounds reasonable enough. This isn’t forever. It’s just for a short while. I can handle that. Hayes needs to focus on hockey and finding his footing with the team, and I can do this for him. He was helpful to me with his plus-one offer the night I met him. Maybe this is my turn towhite knighthim. I can be his plus-one. We’ll do Jessie’s golf luncheon so he can impress the owner. And we’ll go to Xander and Simone’s wedding so I can write about it for Your Scrappy Little Fashionista. Tit for tat. “You’re probably right. I was so pissed earlier that he didn’t check with me, so I’ve been stewing, and I hadn’t really thought through those details. But a short marriage makes sense.”

Aubrey taps a long pink fingernail against the iron table like she’s thinking this situation through too. “Besides, is it really the worst thing? It sounds like you could enjoy somebenefits, if you know what I mean.”

I sure do, and I like how her dirty brain works. “I’m not interested in anything serious though. I don’t want to jump into another relationship.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it’d be a hardship to enjoy the marital benefits, judging from what you told us about last night,” she says dryly.

My chest flutters with nerves. Asking for what I want is a big hurdle. What if they reject me? What if one does, and the other doesn’t? How does that even work? This is uncharted territory for me. “But how do I broach that? How do I saycan we keep seeing your friend while we are married?”

“Say that,” Trina says, like it’s so simple.

“I hate putting myself out there,” I mutter.

“It is hard,” she acknowledges. “But sometimes that’s what you have to do.”

* * *

Later that night I’m pacing through my apartment, trying to locate the nerve to go upstairs and see Hayes, when there’s a knock on my door. My heart races. Then it sprints when a voice says, “Hey. It’s Hayes.”

I’m still frustrated with him, but I’m also eager to just say what’s on my mind.

I fling open the door and whoa…

My husband is standing on the other side holding a basket of artsy, illustrated notebooks in bright pink, soft lavender, and cherry red, along with…is that what I think it is? “Is that a bouquet of pens?” My voice squeaks.

“Yes,” he says, clearly pleased. He hands me the pens, wrapped with a huge purple bow.

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