Page 62 of Puck Yes

“I was trying to help,” he bites out, like he can’t believe I’d be pissed at him.

But I’m livid. He gave me no say. This has shades of Xander all over again. Someone taking over. Someone telling me what to do.

I shove those vulnerable feelings deep down and stab my sternum. “I don’t need to pretend to be married to impress the team owner.”

Hayes’s brow knits in utter confusion as we march past a man mutteringfreaking pair of bananasto a clearly disobedient slot machine. “The last mascot was canned for snorting coke. I didn’t want you to lose your job for getting drunk after the third game.”

Damn him. He makes too good a point.

I breathe out hard, fuming because he’s right. Itwouldlook bad. “But you didn’t even give me a say in this! And is pretending we’re married the only solution? Couldn’t you have stalled to give us some time to make a plan or something?”

Hayes gestures subtly to Jessie, click-clacking several paces ahead of us on the marble walkway, polished in a burgundy suit and brand-new shoes. She’s dispensing instructions to Oliver, who nods like an obedient soldier.

“Did you see her? The woman already put two and two together,” Hayes says. “I didn’t want to cross her. And I didn’t want it to look bad for you.”

I love that he did this for me. But I hate that he did this for me too. This is a whole new mess I need to deal with while I look for new gigs and try to sort out my life. I slow our pace even more. “You didn’t just do it for me,” I point out, since he wasn’t completely altruistic. “You get something out of it too. You’re the new guy on the team, and you didn’t want to look like a fuck-up in front of Jessie either.”

He blows out a breath of admission. “Fine. I get something out of it too.”

I stare him down, glad he’s admitted the truth. “She invited you andyour wifeto a charity event,” I say, unfolding my arms to sketch air quotes. “It would have looked bad for you to sayhey, we were plastered.”

His eyes harden with a new intensity. “I wasn’t drunk. I was barely buzzed in the chapel.” This is important to him, this emphasis on his almost sobriety. “I didn’t do anything last night because of liquor. I wantedeverythingthat happened. The wedding because it was fun. I had a great time marrying you for fun.” He drops his voice to a harsh whisper. “And I wanted the rest of the night desperately because I wanted…you.”

I blink, taken aback by the strength of his tone and the reminder of his desire.

“And I still fucking do, so much it’s driving me crazy, so I’m sorry I made the decision for you, but Ivy, the last thing I want on earth is to hurt you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I wanted to fucking protect you.”

A breath ghosts past my lips as I try to process what he’s saying. What it means. Those vulnerable feelings rise up inside me in a rush, and I’m tempted to ask quietlywhat’s next?

For the three of us…

But I already feel like I’ve let down my guard enough this morning with Hayes and with Stefan. I know how relationships go. I’ve seen it with my parents. Trust is a mirage.You can only trust a dog.

I hate that my cruel dad was right when he dispensed that little nugget of intel to my baby sister and me. I wish I were home, my pup curled up in my lap, writing articles about fashion trends, rather than stuck pretending I’m the Mrs. to his Mr.

There’s so much Hayes and I have to sort out. Like how long we’re doing this, what we’re saying to friends and family, but most of all, what it means for…three people.

Because I can’t stop thinking about StefanandHayes. I can’t stop thinking about the way I felt with both of them. I can’t stop thinking about how even though I know it’s a bad idea, I want to see Stefan again.

And Hayes.

But now isn’t the time to sayI want to see you and your friend a second time.

I especially can’t say that because the cheery face of Oliver pops into my field of vision. He waves a hand as if he’s sorry to interrupt but has no choice. “Jessie has a packed day here in Vegas and she’s meeting with some of the hotel owners later, so we should do that coffee now.”

Translation: don’t keep the owner waiting. And since we don’t need an annulment now, I guess we’re free to have coffee. Oh, joy.

“Of course,” I say, and since Hayes can make a game-day decision, so can I. “But is there any chance we could keep the marriage on the down-low on the plane home? Our whirlwind romance happened so quickly, and we’re obviously so wildly in love that we had to elope, but…” I stop, affecting anoopsgrin, “I need to tell my mom and grandma, since they obviously weren’t there last night.”

“Of course,” Oliver says with a smile, understanding me completely.

As we head to coffee, I flash Hayes atake thatgrin. Two can play at this fake marriage game.

* * *

Benefits of not going to the breakfast that morning? Snagging the window seat in the second row and asking Oliver to sit next to me. Benefits of my second white lie of the day, the one I told to Oliver about wanting to tell my family? Tucking the ring away in my jeans pocket.

I don’t know what Hayes did with his ring. I don’t know what he told Stefan. I avoid them both as they board. I flip open my laptop and I don’t look up as I research my piece for Birdie on the short flight back to San Francisco, my gut churning the whole time. Jessie’s not on the same flight. Oliver mentioned the meetings she had in Vegas. It’s a blessing that she’s not here, but there’s so much I need to deal with.

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