Pretend you want me

GET USED TO ME

It hits me suddenly why Malcolm looks so familiar. He’s THE Malcolm Bellamy. Former pro. Multiple time champion.

And apparently, Seth’s father.

It’s easy for me to miss since I don’t go out of my way to know about the man.

His son on the other hand–

My breath hitches when I see him.

Thank God I’m seated. The low lighting does a good job hiding how hot my face feels.

How is this even possible?

He hasn’t noticed me yet.

But he’s all I can see. Even in this awful lighting.

His hair is so red it’s basically flames, it looks really soft too. I haven’t felt it, but it looks soft, very soft.

There’s attractive and then there’s Seth f*****g Bellamy.

I grip my glass. There’s no way I can sit here with him across from me. If he looked at me with those mesmerizing green eyes, there’s no telling what I will do.

Malcolm and his son are going at it. It’s good, enough for me to come up with an excuse for mom and make my escape.

“Cross?”

What. the. f**k?

Did he just call my name?

My entire being freezes. My brain scrambling to catch up.

Then he sits across from me, squinting those beautiful eyes at me. My hands form fists by my side. To an onlooker, it’s normal, his team just ruined mine, breaking our winning streak for the season.

I expect him to gloat, give me his wickedly smug grin. The one I’ve seen a hundred times on my screen.

He doesn’t give it to me.

Instead he studies me for a second too long.

“It is you.”

My mother lets out a proud laugh. He called me Cross, which means he knows me from the ice. Her favorite thing about me.

“You must be a Hawks fan.”

As if.

I swallow. Words won’t come.

We’ve never actually played against each other before today. Never crossed paths. What are the odds that he’s the son of the man my mother’s is about to marry?

Seth snorts.

“More than a fan, actually,”

Huh?

What does that even–?

He looks at my mother and then me, green eyes resolute. I die inside from the way they stare at me.

“Cross and I are together.”

My eyes widen. My jaw actually dropping.

My mother’s surprise is much louder– shocked, offended, already spiraling, but none of that touches how completely my brain has shut down.

“What is this nonsense?”

Seth turns to his father, his scowl slipping back on as he takes the man on with a challenging stare.

“How is my relationship with him ‘nonsense’, but yours isn’t?”

Malcolm flushes red, jaw tight, eyes burning.

I’m not on the receiving end and I want to jump into a river somewhere. But Seth glares back at him.

“Martins, what…” my mother starts, her voice thin, uncertain. Her hand falling to my arm as she glances between Seth and myself.

“What is going on?”

If I knew what was going on, I wouldn’t feel like this. Like everything is going a thousand miles per hour and my head is struggling to catch up.

Seth reaches across the table, and my eyes find his rippling muscles and I have a really hard time pulling them away.

He makes it easier for me by taking my hand.

My breath stutters. Eyes glued to his warm hand on my clammy one.

“Like this, we’re together.” He threads our fingers together, holding it up for our parents to see.

My mother visibly deflates, hand going to her forehead, and I can hear the lectures for the next week. I wince.

“You can’t pull this because you’re pissed.” Malcolm says, voice tight with restraint.

Seth lets out a bitter laugh.

“Yes, I would date my rival to piss you off.”

“Your rival?” My mother gasps, then peers closely at him, another gasp of realization falling through her lips.

I feel like I’ve been dropped in someone else’s life.

How am I in a relationship I didn’t even know about?

In a relationship with Seth of all people.

That’s not something I’d ever forget.

“We won’t break up so you can play happy family. Call off this marriage.” He tells them, shoving our still linked hands in their faces.

“Oh god.” my mother lets out a quiet breath in despair.

Any other time, I would hate doing this to her. But… his hand in mine feels right.

Too right.

“We already announced it–”

They did?

When?

My friend, Joanne often said if it wasn’t about hockey, I would get sold and wouldn’t realize it for years.

“You can also announce that you’re calling it off.” He gets to his feet, tugging my hand as well. My body naturally follows him, and I’m standing as well.

I can’t believe this is happening. There is a huge possibility that this is a dream and I’ll wake up to one of his videos playing in the background.

It won’t be the first time that has happened.

My mother catches my other arm.

“You never said anything. Is this even real?”

Her gaze travels past me, finding Seth. Her eyes searching mine, pleading with me to deny it. To fix this.

To not ruin what she clearly wants.

I should.

I should tell the truth.

I’m her son.

But Seth gives my hand one firm squeeze, the lie falls out of my mouth easily.

“Yeah.”

One word. No hesitation.

My mother’s shoulders drop, hand slipping from mine.

Was lying always this easy?

I have no idea why we’re lying. I should have said no.

But Seth is holding my hand right now, it could be a dream, I would hate to regret not using this opportunity.

“That’s why you were watching his video then.” she mutters quietly.

Seth tugs on my arm, and we resume walking.

My heart balloons in my chest as I watch the back of his head moving, he doesn’t look back at me. That’s okay, I’ll take any part of him I can, I mean, we’re holding hands right now.

“I’m not giving him up for anything.” Seth says with determination.

Oh god.

My heart can’t handle this.

“Unless you want me to date my step brother… call the marriage off.”

My stomach twists and turns. He’s really talking about dating me. Is this a dream? A fever dream? Post game loss hallucinations?

His father’s voice raises, patience snapping.

“If you’re doing this for attention–”

Seth turns sharply.

I don’t have time to react before he’s in front of me. I stumble back a step, breath catching– and this his hands are on my face.

Everything stops.

His palms are warm against my cheeks, grounding and overwhelming all at once.

My mouth parts before I can stop it.

Up close, his eyes are darker. Almost black in the low light.

Still green.

Still devasting.

Then there’s irritation in there, sharp. I don’t have time to figure it out.

His gaze drops.

To my mouth.

My heart stutters.

And then–

He kisses me.

It’s not rough. Not gentle.

Like he’s trying to prove something.

My brain blanks. Completely.

All I can register is him, his mouth, warm and soft, moving against mine exactly the way I imagined and somehow better.

My fingers twitch uselessly at my sides. I don’t move. I don’t think.

I just exist. For a second or two.

Then he pulls back. My knees are weak.

“Is that what I’d do for attention?”

Then he takes my hand again, walking out of the room, none of them stop us. They must be in shock as I am.

Seth doesn’t let go of my arm until we’re outside. He steps back, finally putting space between us.

The cold hits immediately.

“Get used to it, Cross.”

My throat tightens. “Used to what?”

His gaze settles on me– steady, certain.

“Me.”

Something in my stomach drops.

He’s not joking. He nods once.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow.”

Not a question. My chest tightens.

“Why?”

A slight curve of his mouth.

“Practice.”

For a moment I have no idea what he’s talking about.

My mouth opens to ask him what that means, what everything means. He beats me to it.

“Don’t ruin it.”

Then he turns and walks away.

No hesitation. No looking back.

Like he’s already decided. Like I agreed.

And the worst part, I don’t think I want out.