Puck Pact: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (East Coast Series)

“Remind me why I let you convince me to do this?”

Cassidy grabs onto my elbow as my arms flail. “Because it’s for a good cause.”

“Well, I’m going to need someone to raise money for my cause when I bust my ass and end up in the hospital.”

Cassidy laughs as I steady myself. “Just hold onto the boards until you get your bearings.”

For some reason unbeknownst to me, I laced up a pair of stiff-ass rental ice skates to attend a child’s birthday party.

Granted, said child was being bullied at school until Trenton got wind of it, and showed up at his school to invite him to the ice-skating rink so they could play hockey together with the entire team.

Little Toby’s story may have warmed my cold, black heart a little.

My feet slide out from under me and my body jerks awkwardly until I grasp onto the boards for support.

Cassidy skates around with Trenton for a bit, while I cling to the perimeter of the rink, my legs wobbling like a newborn giraffe.

“I take it this is your first time skating?”

My shoulders jump at the sound of the unfamiliar voice behind me. I grimace as I twist around to make eye-contact with the stranger. “No, I’m actually one of the professional athletes. Can’t you tell?”

The man chuckles as he holds out his hand, palm facing up. “Come on, let me help you. I’m Mr. Sykes, Toby’s teacher.”

“I would take your hand, but I’m too afraid to let go of the boards.”

He slips his right hand around my waist, coaxing my left hand into his. “There you go. You can do it.”

I shift, trying to put some space between us without falling to my icy death. “Shouldn’t you be helping the kids?”

“You seemed like you needed more help.”

I huff out a laugh. “Awesome.”

“And if I’m being honest, you’re beautiful. So, I guess my reason for skating over to you is a selfish one.”

“You’re sweet.” I side-eye him. “Not my type, but sweet.”

Mr. Sykes raises his eyebrows. “It’s the teacher khakis, isn’t it?”

I scrunch my nose. “It’s the elbow patches on your jacket, but the khakis aren’t doing you any favors.”

He nods as he laughs. “I love your honesty. I⁠—”

His words are cut off as a giant man cuts across the ice, headed directly toward us, and skates to a stop, spraying ice onto Mr. Sykes’ pants.

I arch a brow at him.

I haven’t spoken to Alexander since jersey-gate last week. When Cassidy saw me wearing his jersey, she filled me in on what it really meant…

“Wait a second—whose jersey are you wearing?” Cassidy asks.

I shrug like it’s nothing. “I’m showing my support for Krum Cake.”

Her eyebrows jump. “Since when?”

“Since he stopped by my gallery last night and dropped off his jersey.”

“Oh, he just stopped by to give you his jersey?”

I flip my hair over my shoulder and avert my eyes. “Yeah, he came by the gallery.”

“Why would he give you his jersey?”

“I don’t know. Geez, what’s with the Spanish Inquisition?”

She coughs out an incredulous laugh. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“You like him.”

I scrunch my nose. “I don’t like him. I barely know him.”

“Says the woman wearing his jersey.”

I lift my chin. “It looks cute on me. That’s all.”

“And I’m sure it’s going to be on his floor later.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s just a jersey.”

“It’s never just a jersey. He gave it to you because he wants to see you with his name sprawled across your back.”

I pause. “But he wants me to show my support for the team.”

She shakes her head. “Think about it, girl.”

“Oh, hell no.” I tear the jersey up over my head and stuff it into my purse. “I’m not someone’s property. I don’t need him to impart his insecure masculinity on me.”

Homeboy was pissed that I took off his jersey.

And I liked it.

I enjoyed seeing that side to him, catching a glimpse of the unhinged version of the respectful and composed man he’s shown me thus far. I half-expected him to show up at the gallery again, demanding to know why I took off his jersey.

Mr. Sykes sputters. “You’re Alexander Krum. Wow, I’m a huge fan.” He completely lets me go and holds out his hand to shake Alexander’s large one—and I yelp as my legs fly out from under me.

In a flash, Alexander catches me before I hit the ice. He hauls my body against his, pulling me close as he wraps his arm around me. “Easy, spitfire. I’ve got you.”

I clutch his black hoodie in my fists, not because it feels so damn good being pressed against him but because I’m afraid for my safety. The ice looks very cold and hard, and I don’t want my head bouncing off of it.

God, this man smells good.

“Thanks for bringing her to me,” Alexander says, shaking Mr. Sykes’ hand. “I think some of the kids were looking for you over there.”

Mr. Sykes clears his throat, catching the hint. “Yes, of course. It was nice meeting you both.”

I smack Alexander’s chest as the poor teacher skates away. “That was rude.”

“You looked like you were uncomfortable. He had his hands on you.”

“Much like your hands are on me right now.”

He gazes down at me. “Are you uncomfortable?”

I roll my eyes to mask the way my body reacts when this man touches me. “Just get me to the sideline or whatever you people call it in hockey. I think I’m done skating for the day.”

“Nah, I’m gonna teach you to not be afraid on the ice.” He swivels to face me and takes both of my hands in his. “I won’t let you fall. You can trust me.”

“I’m not athletic. You’re going to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed by you?” He smiles. “Never.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks, but my nerves take over as he starts to skate backward, pulling me with him. My ankles wobble and I grip his hands like the lifelines they are.

“Besides, I was doing Mr. Sykes a favor,” he says. “He wouldn’t have known how to handle a woman like you.”

“Didn’t expect you to be the jealous type.” I smirk. “Though I kind of liked seeing you the way you were at the game last week.”

“That was…” His entire demeanor changes as he shakes his head. “You can give the jersey back if you don’t want it. Figure you won’t want to keep it since you couldn’t stand wearing it for more than five minutes at the game.”

There’s a hint of disappointment in his voice, and a dejected, faraway look in his eyes.

Shit. Is he actually hurt by this?

I tip my head. “Cassidy said wearing someone’s jersey is how an athlete claims you. And I’m not interested in being claimed.”

He grunts. “It’s actually the other way around.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a way for you to claim the athlete. Wearing his name, donning his number like you’re proud to represent him. It’s nice to know someone out there in the stands is there specifically for you.”

My stomach drops. I shouldn’t care what this guy thinks. Hurting a man’s feelings is my favorite pastime. But this man hasn’t been a total dick, and he genuinely looks like he’s upset about this. He was genuinely excited for me to wear his jersey, and I stuffed it in my purse like I was ashamed of him.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was embarrassed of you. That’s not what I was thinking.”

He shakes it off like it doesn’t bother him, though I can see it all over his face that it does. “I had other things on my mind that night. Normally, I can shove it down until after the game, or use it to fuel me, but I guess I let it get to me.”

“What happened?”

He pulls me around the far end of the rink, glancing around as the wind rustles his thick hair. “It’s…family stuff.”

“Ah, good old family trauma.” I chuckle. “Wanna talk about it?”

“You’ll think it’s crazy.”

I snort. “I’ve seen my fair share of crazy.”

“Not like this.”

“Try me.”

He sucks in a deep breath before blurting it all out. “My parents owned a villa in Italy, and when they died, they left it to me. I love that house. I vacationed there my whole childhood, and I always envisioned having my own family one day to make memories with there like I did when I was a kid. But I just found out that my evil grandfather holds the title, and if I don’t get married before my thirtieth birthday, I’ll lose the house.”

My skates knock into each other as I jerk to a stop. “What the fuck?”

“Told you it was crazy.” He huffs out a sardonic laugh. “There are a few other hoops I have to jump through, but none of them are as insane and archaic as the marriage thing. I don’t have a girlfriend, let alone a wife, but if I don’t find one soon, then I’m going to lose the house, which is ridiculously unfair and completely ludicrous. I turn thirty in less than eleven months.”

“This villa is that important to you?”

“That villa is all I have left of my parents. When I’m there, I feel connected to them. I can’t lose it.”

Sadness pricks at my heart. “When did your parents pass?”

“When I was sixteen. They were riding around Italy on my dad’s motorcycle, and a drunk driver hit them. Killed them on impact.”

My eyes widen. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Alexander tugs on my hands and continues to pull me around the rink. “You’re doing good. Now try putting one leg in front of the other, kind of like you’re walking, but glide instead.”

I’m a little unsteady at first, but I’m able to do as he says.

“Why would your grandfather try to take the house away from you if he knows how much it means to you?” I ask.

“Because he’s a piece of shit.”

I grunt. “Clearly.”

“He hated that my mother married someone he didn’t approve of, and when I was born, he never accepted me as his family.”

I can relate to that, more than he realizes. I don’t normally share my family history with anyone, but for some reason it comes bubbling out of me.

“My father didn’t want to accept me either. He broke up with my mom when she told him she was pregnant with me, so I didn’t even get to meet him.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Turns out he was married to someone else with a real family of his own the whole time.”

Alexander frowns. “I’m sorry.”

I hike a shoulder. “It’s their loss. You and I are two bomb-ass people and they’re missing out. Plus, your grandfather is almost dead so, he’s about to miss out on everything in the general sense anyway.”

One corner of his mouth ticks up.

“And I’m sure you have women lined up at your door to date you. Finding a woman to fall in love with you shouldn’t be too hard.”

His eyes meet mine, sadness swirling in their dark depths. “Most women only want to date me to say they’re dating a pro hockey player.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s a hard thing to deal with.”

He heaves a long sigh. “So now, I don’t know what I’m going to do. But I have until I turn thirty to do it.”

“You should just do what Cass and Trenton were doing and hire someone to fake marry you.”

Alexander hits me with a blank stare. “What?”

My eyes widen and I clamp my hand over my mouth.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Oh, fuck.

I wasn’t supposed to say that.

“What are you talking about?” he asks again.

“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Nothing. I… I didn’t say anything.”

He pulls me over to the side of the rink, skating to a stop. “You said something about Trenton hiring someone…to do what?”

I grimace and my shoulders droop. “You have to swear you won’t tell them that I told you. It was supposed to be a secret.”

He glances across the ice to where Cassidy and Trenton are helping Toby take shots at the goal. “I won’t say a word.”

I run my hand through my hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “When Trenton got traded to the Goldfinches, Celeste thought it would be good for his image if he pretended to date Cassidy. You know, show the world that he’s over the drama with his cheating ex and his old teammates. So, for the first few months of their relationship, it was all fake.”

Alexander’s eyes bounce between mine like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “How does one pretend to date someone?”

I shrug. “Celebrities do it all the time for publicity reasons. They’d go on dates and get photographed together. Boom, the world thinks they’re dating.”

“Did Cassidy get paid to do that?”

I chew on my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing. “Oh, she got paid in a different way.”

He arches a brow. “Tell me.”

I lower my voice, making sure there aren’t any children around us. “She used him as her sex muse for the romance book she recently published. She’d send him ideas and he’d act it out with her so she could write about it.”

Alexander rubs his jaw as he fights a smile. “Not a bad deal for him.”

“Nope. And now look at them. They’re so in love, it makes me sick.”

“Damn, I had no idea.”

“Maybe you should talk to Celeste and see if she can find you someone who’d be interested in marrying you to help you keep the villa.”

He shakes his head. “It’d have to be someone I could trust. I can’t do something like that with a stranger.”

I hike a shoulder. “It’s worth a shot. And who knows? Maybe you’ll fall in love with her the same way Trenton and Cassidy did.”

“Falling in love isn’t as easy as you’re making it sound.”

“It wouldn’t be worth it if it were easy. Isn’t that what they say about love?”

His eyebrows hit his hairline. “That sounded awfully romantic coming from you.”

I roll my eyes. “Relax, I read that on a greeting card once or something.”

He grins. “Uh-huh. I think you’ve got a big heart underneath all that sass. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody.”

A small smile breaks free in spite of myself. “Good. I need to keep my street cred.”