The Faker: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Boston Hawks Hockey) by Gina Azzi (ink ebook reader .TXT) 📗

arm, I turn toward the guys in the parking lot and take one step in their direction, practically vibrating with rage. How dare they think that about Rielle? How dare they think of her at all.

A surge of protectiveness mixed with jealousy I’m unprepared for blazes through me, propelling me forward.

“Wait. Torsten, please.” Rielle hangs onto my arm, trying to pull me back.

I pause at the desperation in her tone.

When I glance at her, she looks near tears, even more so than last night, and it shocks me. Because in all the years I’ve known Rielle, I’ve never seen her actually cry. Not once. And I’ve seen Claire throw down more emotional outbursts than I can count.

I falter. “What is it?”

“Please. Just, come upstairs with me. Let’s talk.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “What they think—”

“It doesn’t matter. Please don’t make this more embarrassing for me. I’m so humiliated right now. And Merck, he doesn’t mean it the way you think. He looks out for me. For real.”

I scan her face before nodding once. Anger simmers in my veins as I follow her into the building and up the stairs. I note the smell of weed, the bickering behind closed doors, the screaming that rings out on floor three.

When we get to Rielle’s door, she pulls a fresh pink slip off the doorframe and my stomach sinks as I recognize the eviction notice. My stomach twists so painfully, I think I’m going to be sick.

Rielle slips inside and I follow behind her, wincing at the sound the deadbolt makes when it slides into place.

“Want a water or something? We can finish our pancakes.” She gestures toward her small kitchen table.

“Sure,” I say, taking a seat just to put her at ease.

In truth, I’d rather pace her apartment like a caged lion demanding answers to all her fucking problems. Like why she’s in so much debt. And why that man, Merck, thinks she’d sleep around for money. And why she hasn’t told anyone about any of this. Because I know for a fact if Claire knew how rough things were for Rielle, she’d be living in the Merrick family home right now.

Rielle sets two glasses of water down and meets my gaze, a sheepish smile glancing off her lips. I realize I spoke my last thought aloud. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Why, Ri? Not even Claire?”

“Especially not Claire.” She sits down. “Her family—”

“Would have taken you in as theirs in a heartbeat.”

She nods, a wistful look crossing her features before she blinks it away. “I’m not a charity case,” she says, like she’s reminding me.

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

I heave a sigh and lean back in my chair. “Do you want to tell me about the debt?”

She shrugs. “Student loans.”

“No way. Unless you went to Harvard, twice, you wouldn’t be in that much debt.”

She bites her bottom lip, her gaze darting out the window before meeting my eyes once more. “My father and I had a falling out. A big one. I took out private loans for college, from a family friend. I wasn’t as careful as I should have been when I read the terms.” She frowns. “I trusted him, you know?”

I nod, because I do know. Only eight years ago, my father and uncle tried to change the terms of my trust. They would have succeeded if Farmor didn’t realize what they were up to and put a stop to it.

“Anyway, his family hit some hard times and he changed the interest rate. So, here we are.”

“Other than the student loans, what do you owe?”

“Nothing.”

“Credit cards, medical, insurance policies?”

“Nope. Just the student loans. And my rent.” She gestures to her apartment.

I nod, keeping my features schooled. Inside, I feel positively ill but Rielle is a proud woman. It’s taking a lot for her to be open and honest with me right now. No way in hell am I going to say or do anything to make her feel like she can’t be straight with me.

“Okay,” I say, opening one of the takeout containers. I nudge the other one closer to her. She goes to the kitchen and returns with some cutlery. Once she’s seated again, I meet her eyes. “Rielle, I’m not good at this stuff. I don’t have a lot of practice with feelings and talking about them.”

She smirks at me and for some reason, it’s oddly encouraging.

“But,” I continue, “I am good at dealing with complicated family members. I know what it’s like to be underestimated and looked over by those you trust. No matter what goes down between us, don’t ever think that I’m not your friend. I’m here for you. If you want to talk or not talk, whatever you need, I’m here. Okay?”

She stares at me for a long moment and some of the pain in her expression eases, like air seeping out of a balloon. She nods.

“Okay.” I smile.

“Will you tell me now why you proposed marriage as a solution to anything?”

I snort. “Yeah. Okay, I’m just going to be straight with you.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

I snicker, giving her a searching look. My humor fades as I grow serious. “I need a green card.”

Rielle frowns. “What? Why? You’re on the Hawks. You—”

“This is my last season. No one knows yet except for the owner, some senior management, and our coach.” I shrug, keeping my voice light. “My body isn’t holding up the way it used to.”

Rielle’s eyes widen and her mouth twists. “What do you mean? Are you injured?”

“I’m fine. It’s just, time to hang up my skates. I’ve been in this country for a long time. I’ve built my life here, my future. I’ve started the application process twice to become a naturalized citizen but both times, I needed to head back to Oslo before the necessary paperwork was in order.”

“You can’t just pick up where you left off?”

I shake my head. “The process doesn’t work that way.”

“Well, why don’t you just try again?”

I sigh, steepling my hands together. “I was going to.