Perfectly Wedded (Perfect Crush #1)

9. Vale

NINE

Vale

M y back aches as I roll over, desperately trying to find a comfortable position on this miserable floor. I wasn’t supposed to wake up for another hour, but between the ache in my spine and the looming press conference, sleep feels impossible.

I rub the palm of my hand into my eyes and peek across the room. Sloan is sleeping on her stomach, one arm hanging off the mattress, her hair a tangled mess. She’d kill me if she knew I was staring, but I can’t help it. I drink her in—her brown hair splayed across her pillow, the neck of her T-shirt falling off one shoulder, her pink lips slightly open. It’s not just her looks that pull me in—it’s everything about her. The way she makes people feel seen and special, the way her laugh lights up a room, and how she throws herself into everything with her whole heart. That’s what makes her one of my favorite people in the world. And it’s exactly why I’m terrified of messing this up—because losing her would mean losing the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

The whole world will be watching us today, ready to pick apart every word, searching for cracks in our story. It’s one thing if I slip up and ruin my reputation, but risking Sloan’s future? That’s a whole different thing.

Which means I’ve got one job today: convince everyone that I’m madly in love with Sloan and that includes my friends and teammates. If anyone’s going to see through this, it’s them.

I sneak through the room, when Sloan suddenly stirs and lifts her head from the pillow.

“Why are you up so early?” she asks sleepily, propping up on her elbow. Her hair falls over one eye, and she pulls the sheet up to her neck, like she’s trying to cover her body even though I’ve already seen her in a much skimpier nightgown.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I whisper.

“It was the floor, wasn’t it?” Her eyes graze over my bare chest before a pink flush warms her cheeks. Judging by the way she’s avoiding looking directly at my chest, I’ve already failed my first test—making her feel comfortable with us sharing a room. If we can’t fix this, it’s going to be a very long two years.

“I’m heading out for an early morning workout,” I say.

I head to the kitchen, where the morning light has cast a gray, sleepy hue over everything, and grab the orange juice from the fridge. As I tip it to my lips, Brax steps into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he asks, flicking on the light.

“What does it look like? Drinking some juice. You should warn a man before you give him a heart attack.”

“You know the house rules,” he says, ripping the juice from my hands. “No drinking from the container.”

I point at the container. “I bought that juice.”

Brax shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Leo drank from it while you were gone, and I gave him the same warning.”

“Seriously? Gross.” I wipe my lips with the back of my hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he says, crossing the kitchen to grab two glasses, handing me one. “You went to Vegas and got married without telling anyone.”

Brax turns toward the pantry and takes out a package of bagels.

“Listen, Brax. It wasn’t intentional. Things just happened fast. ”

He whips around. “Too fast to call your brother? I understand why you didn’t tell the team. Leo’s got a big mouth, and Rourke would give you grief. But I’m family. I should know before it’s all over social media. When a reporter called the house, I told him no way were you married. I felt like smacking you for putting me in that position.”

“A reporter called you?” I ask, setting down my glass. “I didn’t mean for you to find out that way. We were waiting to tell you in person. Figured that’d be better than just a call or text.”

“I know that,” he mumbles, then checks over his shoulder. “But this is my sister-in-law you married. It complicates things because she’s family.”

“You don’t think I took that into account?” I say. “You don’t think this is complicated for us too?”

He sets down his breakfast and leans against the counter, locking eyes with me. “She’s not like your other girlfriends, Vale. You were never serious with them—ditching them the moment you got bored. But Sloan? She’s family now.” His voice drops lower as he points at me, eyes sharp. “If you dare hurt her...”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” I promise. “She’s my wife, Brax. Not like the other girls I’ve dated. Why are you even questioning me?”

He takes a step toward me, getting in my face. “You know the divorce rate? It’s fifty percent. Guess how many married couples are in this house?” He waits a beat to make his point. “It’s you or me, Vale, and it sure isn’t going to be me. So if anything happens and you break up this family, you’ll have me to answer to. Understand?”

I clench my jaw and nod, even though I know I’m totally screwed. Sloan thinks this marriage is a temporary arrangement, and I promised her an out when she wanted it. Even if that’s never been my plan, I wouldn’t force her to stay married to me if she didn’t want to. Wouldn’t Brax understand that?

I swallow hard. “Heard you loud and clear.”

The gravity of his warning sinks like a rock in my stomach. I turn away from him and stare into the open fridge, even though I’ve lost my appetite. If I divorce Sloan, I’ll lose my brother too.

He runs his fingers through his hair. “Jaz is worried sick. She’s been nauseous ever since she found out her sister eloped. She just wants Sloan to be happy. That’s why I’m warning you now. Don’t screw this up.”

I whirl around. “I said I won’t, and I meant it. I’m not going to hurt her.”

Footsteps echo down the stairs, and we both turn back to making our breakfasts.

“Hey, Vale,” Leo says, strolling into the kitchen, oblivious to the tension in the room. “Sorry I missed you coming home last night.” He opens the fridge door and smirks. “I can’t handle all this newlywed bliss. I was afraid it might rub off on me.”

“Which newlywed are you talking about?” Brax asks.

“The same one who got the press all riled up,” Leo says, taking my juice and drinking it from the bottle.

“That’s my juice.” I tear the bottle away from him and glance at Brax. “Did you tell him about Vegas?”

Leo shakes his head. “He didn’t have to. It’s all over the news.” Then he gives me a slap on the back. “You sly dog. Never expected you’d get hitched in Sin City with Sloan. Sounds like something I’d do.” He laughs and grabs my juice bottle, holding it in the air. “Cheers to the happy couple.” Then he downs the last sip.

I narrow my eyes. “Are you trying to be a jerk this morning? Or did I forget how annoying you were while I was gone?”

Leo tosses the bottle in the trash, unfazed. “Looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Didn’t sleep well last night or did your wife keep you up?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I say smugly. There’s no way Leo can find out I slept on the floor. “Just stop putting your mouth on my juice bottle.”

He gives me an aggravating smirk. “I’m sure if it were Sloan’s lips, you wouldn’t mind at all. ”

I take a step toward Leo. “Don’t talk about my wife ever again . ”

“Guys,” Brax warns, coming between us. “Knock it off.”

“What’s going on now?” Tate strolls into the kitchen, looking between us.

“Do you live under a rock or something? I swear you’ve got your head in a book too much,” Leo grumbles.

“At least I know how to read,” Tate fires back.

“Vale and Sloan got hitched in Vegas,” Brax says, beating me to the punch.

Tate nods and grabs a cereal bowl. “I heard. It was all over the news.”

“Does anyone not know yet?” I say. “Or can I assume the whole team has heard by now?”

“Oh, they know,” Leo says. “You can thank the internet for that. I’m sure our owner, Mr. Marco, wasn’t pleased to find out that way.”

“Someone in Vegas leaked it,” I reply, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in my stomach. The press conference is going to be brutal today. Protecting Sloan from the onslaught of questions is my number one priority. “If anyone tries to get information, send them to me. Leo, you especially.”

“I’m not the one you need to worry about. Your girl, on the other hand, isn’t used to the press. Have you prepared her for this?”

I cross the kitchen in a few quick strides, closing the distance between us. “She’s not my girl , she’s my wife. And you’ll refer to her as my wife from now on.”

Just then, Sloan enters the kitchen, and her eyes cut to me. “What did you say about me?”

“Uh, nothing,” I say with a shrug. I give her a quick kiss on the cheek and notice her stiffen under my touch. “Just guy stuff.”

“Looks like your wife has you wrapped around her finger, Vale-boy,” Leo says with a smirk as he leaves the kitchen.

“He makes me want to punch things,” I mutter under my breath.

Brax tips his chin at me. “Join the club.”

Sloan grabs an apple, while I pour a bowl of cereal. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom first after I work out? I want to look nice for the press conference today.”

“It’s all yours.”

“But what about your hair and beard?” Brax says, grinning at me. “Don’t you need an hour to make yourself camera-ready?”

“Shut up, Brax,” I say. “My wife gets first priority now.”

“Thanks, honey.” She smiles, then reaches up to tousle my hair before leaving.

Brax lifts an eyebrow. “You let her mess up your hair? Wow. Never thought I’d see the day. Sloan has you whipped into shape.”

“She does not,” I mumble, fixing my hair.

“Sure looks like she does,” Tate says. “How’s that going to affect your focus during games?”

“It won’t,” I grumble. “I’m still the same player. Marriage won’t change me on the ice.”

“You’d be surprised.” Brax leans in close. “Do you think about her all the time? Want to be near her? Can’t stop replaying your time with her alone?”

Tate holds up a hand. “Stop right there. We get the idea.”

I shrug. “I won’t let it affect my game.”

But I don’t admit the full truth: that my thoughts stray to her all the time. Ever since we got married, she’s on a constant loop in my head. Like how stunning she looked in that silver gown. And that nightgown? I can’t even let my mind go there without getting completely flustered. How am I supposed to keep this up for an entire year while pretending I feel nothing for her but brotherly love?

“Take it from me,” Brax says, tearing off a piece of his bagel. “She’s going to be a distraction during games.”

“Guys, I’m telling you. I don’t have a problem with focus. ”

Sloan jogs back into the kitchen, her ponytail swinging behind her.

“I forgot my water,” she chirps, grabbing her bottle.

She’s changed into a pair of workout shorts and a cropped T-shirt that skims the waistline. I can’t help but appreciate her gorgeous curves as she brushes by me. When she wiggles her fingers to say goodbye, I give her a wink—just for show, of course—while reaching for my juice glass. I’m so focused on Sloan, I accidentally knock it over, spilling juice across the counter.

“You’re right,” Brax adds, smirking. “You don’t have a problem with focus at all.”