Page 67 of Puck Yes

“C’mon, you know you want to,” Hayes goads in a rougher tone, leaning closer. His stubble is filling in even more, the start of a beard coming in.

We’re at a private table in the corner of the rooftop patio at Stefan’s restaurant-slash-bar, and they’re trying to pry a secret out of me.

I shake my head, adamant, my hair swinging back and forth. “Nope.” I lift my bubbly water—no liquor for this girl tonight—and swirl it defiantly. A statement. “You’re not winning this one. I refuse to give up team secrets. You’ll find out next week.” That’s when the team will debut the first of three options for a new mascot/team name.

“C’mon,” Stefan says, trying again. “You know the candidates before anyone else. It’s only fair to give us a hint.”

Hayes gives it his best shot. “We won’t say a word beyond this table.” He draws an air circle around the three of us as stars wink in the San Francisco sky.

I have a little fun with them. “Why do you even want to know? It’s not like you have to wear new uniforms yet. As the mascot, I’m just testing the potential name.”

Stefan sets down his wineglass amidst the remains of the dinner we just finished. “I bet we could get it out of you.Later. In bed.”

I like the sound of his seduction plans. “Is this another dare?”

“Smells like a dare to me,” Hayes says, accompanied by forks clattering and glasses clinking.

We’re far away from other diners, but I’m not worried about how this looks. We’re just three people having dinner. But this is what I wanted—a night with both of them. My family knows the truth, and that was important to me. I didn’t want to fool them, so over breakfast this morning I told my grandma and my mom about the marriage arrangement so they wouldn’t worry if they heard anything on social. I texted with Katie too.

“Is this a new dating trend I need to know about?” my mom had asked when I’d told her.

“Because if it is, I’m out,” my grandma had seconded. “It took me long enough to learn to like avocado toast.”

“Fake marriage is not the new avocado toast,” I’d reassured her. I’m lucky they’re so supportive and didn’t give me a hard time at all. But I left telling Ryker to Trina, since she knows how to handle him.

Now I’m just enjoying my evening with these two guys as they play the new-team-name-guessing game.

“I bet it’s an otter,” Stefan muses.

“It’s not an otter,” I say.

“What about a mustang? That’d be cool,” Hayes says.

Stefan arches a brow at Hayes. “Does that even make sense? Then we’d be, what, horses on skates?”

“That’s your issue? The realism of mascots? The other team in this city is called the Sea Dogs and you’re pointing out that horses don’t wear skates?”

“What even is a Sea Dog?” Stefan’s brow knits as he turns philosophical.

“A seal,” I answer confidently.

Hayes’s irises twinkle with victory. “So that’s what you’ll wear? A seal costume?” He says it like he’s cracked the code.

When he so didn’t. “I took a mascot oath. I will not reveal the mascots we’re testing.” But the whole city will know at the next home game when I zip up the costume.

“We’ll get it out of you later,” Hayes says, all bravado once more.

“Speaking of later.” I sit up straighter. We’ve been having such a good time at dinner that we haven’t even hadthe talkyet. But we can’t put it off any longer. It’s important. “We should talk.”

Hayes glances around the eatery, full of diners but none close enough to eavesdrop, making sure the place is private. “Yeah, we should.”

“Seeing as I’m Mrs. Hockey for a couple months, we should establish the ground rules. Anysituationshipneeds them,” I say, sketching air quotes.

“Situationship,” Stefan says, clearly amused.

“Well, it seems apropos.”

“If anything is a situationship, it’s this. And rules are good,” Hayes seconds.

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