Perfectly Wedded (Perfect Crush #1)

11. Vale

ELEVEN

Vale

T he rest of the week, I get the sense that my teammates are hiding something. They rib me about wanting to get home after practice and accuse me of being distracted by Sloan. They’re merciless with the bedroom jokes (even though the joke’s on them), but I’ve learned not to give any hints. Not even a whiff of a hint. Instead, I hurry out of the locker room with one thing on my mind: Sloan .

Even if they don’t know our secret, there’s a piece of the truth in their accusations. I can’t get my mind off the hot brunette I married—how she made me laugh over dinner last night and what show we’re going to watch as she falls asleep against my shoulder. I can’t stop replaying how she looks when she first wakes, her hair fanning across her shoulders, while I ache to touch her.

Sloan is my weakness, and it’s starting to affect me even when she’s not around.

During shooting drills when Rourke passes me a puck, I fumble it and miss a usual corner shot.

“Your shooting’s off today,” he complains.

“Bad shot,” I mutter.

“Is it the shot, or is the wifey affecting your game?” He smirks, and I glower at him.

I hate the word wifey . Like Sloan’s some kind of joke. Maybe I’m irritable because his joke hits a little too close to home. I skate over to my cocky teammate and use my six-foot-four frame to tower over him. “That’s my wife to you.”

“It was a joke,” he replies. “Or have you lost your sense of humor too?” Rourke’s a loose cannon and it doesn’t take much to set him off, but right now, I don’t care.

“I don’t joke about Sloan,” I growl.

“Whatever. Why are you so cranky anyways?”

“I’m not cranky,” I shoot back.

“I think Vegas affected your game,” Rourke says. “You’ve been acting weird ever since you got back.”

“I’ll show you what’s gonna affect your game,” I warn, moving toward him. Rourke skates away before I can do anything stupid.

“Idiot,” I mutter under my breath.

Maybe it’s the pressure of keeping my marriage situation quiet. Or the added pressure from my brother who warned me about breaking things off with Sloan, but I’m not in a good head space.

Leo skates by, then stops in front of me. “You’re both right. He’s an idiot, and you’re clearly bothered by something that’s affecting your focus. Is it the press? You should just ignore them and move on.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in a new article every day,” I huff, frustration building in my chest. I can see how it’s starting to wear on Sloan. She’s been pulling away from me all week—something I need to fix, and fast. I can’t stand the distance she’s putting between us. Before we were married, everything was so easy, but now things are different between us, more complicated.

“If you’re such an expert on PR, what do you suggest?” I ask Leo.

“Leave town so they can’t bother you,” Leo says.

“Like I can do that. We’re in training camp season. ”

“Seriously, you need to get away so the press storm will cease. You’re totally focused on hockey ever since you got back. You need to have more fun. And by fun, I mean with your wife.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Because you’ve been married before...”

“No,” he says. “But if I ever settle down, I know that much.”

Tate circles around me, stopping in front of me. “Today’s surprise might help.”

“What surprise?” I say, looking around.

Leo closes his eyes and sighs. “Tate, you just blew our cover.”

“I’m giving him a hint,” Tate says. “For the record, I had nothing to do with what’s about to happen.”

I lean against my stick. “Tate, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

A shrill whistle ends our practice as Coach waves the team over. A few guys shoot looks over their shoulders, and I swear a few of them are smiling.

“We’re cutting practice short today,” Coach Jenkins announces. “Meet in the conference room in a half hour.”

“What is it?” I ask as everyone files off the ice.

Brax smiles. “The team came up with a brilliant idea for you and Sloan.”

“Brilliant, huh?” I ask. “You want to tell me what it is?”

“Nope,” Leo butts in, then hits my chest with the back of his hand. “I just hope you know your new bride well.”

When we reach the conference room, Sloan waits in a chair at the front of the room, her knee in constant motion. As usual, she looks adorable in a pair of faded jeans and an off-the-shoulder sweater. When her eyes catch mine, she gives me a strained look that says, What are they up to now?

I shrug and shake my head.

The front of the room is decorated with gold balloons and the obligatory newlywed banner. It all reeks suspiciously of a wedding shower or a practical joke. Given the company, I’d guess the latter.

“You knew about this?” I whisper to Sloan as my eyes scan the room for clues. It all looks so normal. Too normal .

“No. Did you?”

“Not until right now.”

When Jaz walks in, Sloan waves her down frantically. “What is going on?”

Jaz shoots us an apologetic look. “The team wanted to throw you a shower. I didn’t find out until today. They didn’t want me warning you beforehand.”

Sloan narrows her eyes. “Why would the team throw us a wedding shower?” The cake and punch in the corner are a dead giveaway, but since everyone’s being tight-lipped, I know that’s not the whole story.

“I don’t know, but there are games involved. Highly secretive ones,” she says. “Including a game with whipped cream.”

Knowing these guys, it could be anything. They’re a bunch of grown men with middle-school senses of humor.

Brax and Leo walk in, each carrying a stack of cards.

“Okay, listen up,” Brax says to the room of rowdy men. “We’re here to celebrate Sloan and Vale today, and we wanted to have some fun.”

The hockey team hoots and whistles like a scantily clad girl has just jumped out of a cake.

“Not that kind of fun,” Brax warns with a grin. “I meant we’re here to have fun celebrating Sloan and Vale, who tied the knot in Vegas recently. We might not know how to pull off your typical wedding shower, so this is our very own Crushers’ version, complete with surprises and competitions. Vale, we planned a few games because you’re highly competitive. And, Sloan, the sweets are for you, because other than my wife, you’re the only sweet one in this room.”

“Hey, what about me?” Rourke says, pretending to be offended.

“I said sweet , not stupid,” Brax says as a few guys chuckle. “As a team, we couldn’t ignore what happened in Vegas. You made a lifelong commitment to each other. And we look for any excuse to party. Ready for our first game?”

The guys start whistling again, and Brax has to quiet them down before we can begin.

He directs us to sit in two chairs, facing back-to-back, then hands both of us two hockey gloves, one black and one blue.

“What are these for?” I ask, holding them up.

“The Newlywed Game. The black one represents you, Vale. The blue one represents Sloan. We’ll ask a question, and you’ll raise the glove that corresponds to the person. If your answers match, you get a point. If not, your teammates get a point. If you win, you get a very special gift.” Then he pauses for a beat. “If you lose, well...”

“What?” I frown.

“I can’t tell you yet,” Brax says, keeping his face guarded. “Just don’t lose.”

“This should be good,” Rourke yells, rubbing his palms together.

Sloan leans toward me and whispers, “How are we going to win this?”

I shake my head. “Hope we get lucky?”

Now that we know there’s a punishment if we lose, there’s no other option. We have to win.

“Leo’s acting as referee to make sure there’s no cheating,” Brax adds as he shuffles through a stack of cards. “Leo crowdsourced questions from the team and filtered out the inappropriate ones.”

A few guys in the back boo.

Leo looks at us. “You can thank me later.”

Brax holds up the first question. “The team wants to know who made the first move in your relationship?”

I can’t see Sloan since she’s seated behind me, so I have to go with my gut feeling. I shift in my seat, wishing I had an answer. I’ve never made any intentional moves on Sloan, but if we were dating, I think Sloan would want me to make the first move. She’s old school like that.

“This shouldn’t be that hard,” Leo urges. “Hurry up. ”

I can feel Sloan’s arm move, but I can’t see which glove she’s holding. I pick the black glove representing me, hoping Sloan’s choice is the same.

“They both agree,” Brax says with a smile. “One point for you.”

“Spill the details, Sloan,” Lucian, the team captain, says. “We want to hear the story.”

Sloan shifts on her seat behind me. “Well, a few months ago, we were at the beach, taking a walk. That’s when he held my hand.”

“Awwwww,” Rourke says in a fake sweet voice. I glower at him while everyone laughs.

We did walk together on the beach several months ago, but I only grabbed her hand when she stumbled over a rock. It wasn’t intentional. And it certainly wasn’t a “move.”

“Next question.” Brax flips through the cards. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“What’s with all the firsts?” I ask.

“This is almost like a freebie, it’s so easy,” Leo says. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten?”

Would Sloan say I love you before me? I don’t talk about my feelings openly. And saying I love you? I’ve never said it to any woman I’ve dated. That’s because I don’t want to make the same mistake my father did and make promises I can’t keep. When I say I love you, it will be to the one woman who is my forever.

“We don’t have all day,” Leo grumbles. “And your wife has made her decision.”

I hold up the black glove again. The whole room breaks into laughter.

Leo clicks his tongue at our error. “Looks like the newlyweds don’t agree. Vale, when did you say it?”

“In Vegas, of course.” I didn’t actually say this in Vegas, but I remember thinking that I should . If Sloan was going to become my wife, why wouldn’t I say it? Her smile lit me up as bright as the city lights. But it didn’t feel right to admit something out of obligation.

“Sloan?” Brax asks. “Is that correct?”

“Ah, yes, I forgot , ” Sloan says with a laugh. “We say I love you so much, I couldn’t remember who said it first.”

“That means one for the Crushers,” Brax adds.

I shoot him a look. “How many questions are there?”

“Best out of five,” Leo answers.

Brax flips to another card. “Who initiated the first kiss?”

I shift in my seat. The only kiss we’ve had is the one at the wedding chapel—a forced kiss that I haven’t stopped thinking about. In a hypothetical situation, if I made the first move, I probably initiated the first kiss. I lift my black glove and Jaz gives me an approving smile that tells me we got the point.

“Two points Sloan and Vale,” Brax says, before moving along. He flips to the next card and narrows his eyes. “Who fell first?”

I frown. “How are we supposed to answer that?”

“One person had to realize it before the other,” Leo says. “Someone always falls first.”

“It’s not that obvious,” I say. “Unfair question.”

Leo looks at Brax. “Who fell first in your relationship, you or Jaz?”

“I did,” Brax says without missing a beat.

“See? Even your brother knows,” Leo says, as if this proves his point.

“Thanks, Brax,” I mutter, then lift the black glove just to give him an answer. When Sloan makes her choice, the guys erupt into cheers. Wrong again.

“Another point for the team,” Brax says a little too gleefully. “Last question will determine who wins The Newlywed Game.”

It’s our last shot. We have to get this one right because I don’t want to know what the team has planned for us if it’s wrong.

Brax looks at the question, then shakes his head. “I’m not asking this. It crosses the line. ”

Rourke and Jaxon snicker in the back of the room. Knowing those guys, they probably submitted this question.

“Then I’ll ask it,” Leo says, plucking the card from his hand. He reads the card, then smirks. “Who was the most nervous on your wedding night?”

The guys howl with laughter. Sloan stiffens behind me as sweat prickles across my back. No matter how you answer, you make someone look bad. And I can’t tell them the truth: that we haven’t even had a typical wedding night.

I look at Leo. “You’re assuming that someone was nervous. And even if we were, that’s nobody’s business.”

“I agree.” Brax steals the card from Leo and tosses it to the side. “We’re not doing that one.”

“Well, it was a lot better than the other options I got,” Leo says in defense.

Brax sorts through the other cards and pulls one out. “Okay, here’s one. And remember, you don’t have to give any details. Just answer the question. Who has the biggest secret that they’re keeping from their friends?”

I freeze. Even though I know Brax didn’t set us up to fail, it feels like he did. Because we’ve been hiding the biggest secret in front of him this whole time.

I narrow my eyes. “If one of us had a secret, do you think we’d tell you that now?”

“Nobody’s asking you to reveal your secrets,” Leo clarifies.

I wish I could see Sloan’s face right now. Some sign so we could get this question right.

“Cast your vote,” Leo says. “Who has a secret?”

Sloan’s been so transparent with me about everything that I can’t imagine her not being honest about other things. If anyone’s holding back, it’s me.

I finally cast my vote, lifting the black glove.

Leo’s mouth curves into a smirk. “Somebody bring out the whipped cream.”