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

Alexander shows up promptly at 6:55pm for our date.

He’s leaning against his blacked-out SUV looking like an absolute snack in charcoal-gray slacks and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His thick hair is styled neatly instead of the usual messy mop from being smushed under his helmet.

I smirk as I make my way down the stairs of my apartment building. “Five minutes early just as I suspected.”

“If you’re not early, you’re late.” His dark eyes make a slow perusal of my long-sleeve black dress, and I don’t miss the way his jaw ticks when he reaches my bare thighs peeking out of the thigh-high black boots. “You look incredible.”

“Had to look good for the paparazzi.”

He dips down and presses his lips to my cheek, letting his mouth linger by my ear. “So, this dress isn’t for me?”

“Not unless you’re planning on taking it off me, Big Man.”

He glances up at the sky like he’s saying a silent prayer.

But it’s a lie. This dress is totally meant to drive him crazy.

He swings open the door to the back seat and before he follows me into the car. “Sam, this is Aarya, my girlfriend.”

I flinch at the word girlfriend. It sounds so foreign. I’ve never been a girlfriend before. I know we need to use terms like this, but it’s definitely going to take some getting used to.

“Hey, Sam.” I wave at him in the rear-view mirror. “Thanks for driving us around tonight. Any chance you’ll tell me where we’re going?”

Sam chuckles as he pulls away from the curb. “But that would ruin the surprise.”

“Damnit, he got to you too.” I glare at Alexander. “I hate surprises.”

He reaches out and squeezes my hand. “This will be a good surprise, I promise.”

The way he’s looking at me is as if he knows the reason I hate surprises is because I’ve only had bad ones.

I shift in my seat and stare out the window, trying to figure out where we’re going. We take the Liberty Bridge into Manhattan, with endless possibilities there. I watch Sam’s turns, trying to figure it out for nearly thirty minutes. But it’s not until we turn onto 5th Avenue and slow to a stop in front of vast steps peppered with paparazzi pointing cameras in our direction that it hits me.

My lips part and my heart thumps a furious rhythm in my chest. “We’re going to the MET?”

He nods. “I rented it out for the evening.”

“You rented… the MET?”

He chuckles. “The whole museum just for us.”

“I love this museum.”

“I figured you would.”

I blink between the museum and him, my brain not fully computing the fact that this man rented out the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

For me.

It’s not dinner or a movie. It’s not drinks at a bar. It’s not a, “You up?” text at 1AM.

It’s thoughtful and sweet.

It’s clever.

It’s one of my favorite places in the world, yet I’ve never told him that.

But I don’t have time to let it all sink in, because we have to get out of the quiet vehicle.

“It’s going to be a little bright out there,” Alexander warns. “Just hold my hand, keep your head down, and don’t answer any questions. Understand?”

I nod, nerves buzzing under my skin. “Yes.”

Celeste leaked the news that Alexander Krum would be stepping out with his never-before-seen girlfriend, ensuring that our picture would make it onto the news to get the city talking. It’s only now that it dawns on me that my simple life is about to become a lot less private.

Am I ready for this?

Alexander watches me with those keen dark eyes. “You ready, spitfire?”

“Ready,” I lie.

Sam steps around the front of the SUV and swings open our door. Alexander slides out first, and there’s a frenzy of clicks and flashes as the paparazzi descend upon us. I clasp Alexander’s hand, and he tugs me close, guiding me up the museum stairs.

“Krum, who is this woman?”

“Is this your girlfriend?”

“How long have you been dating?”

“Kiss her!”

Flashes go off like lightning around us, making it hard to see. I grip tight onto Alexander, praying that I don’t miss a step and fall in front of all these people.

“I don’t remember there being so many stairs here,” I mutter.

Alexander chuckles. “Almost there.”

Finally at the top, we push through the glass doors and once it closes behind us, silence blankets us again.

A security guard greets us with a smile. “Good Evening, Mr. Krum. Enjoy your night.”

Alexander shakes his hand. “Thank you, Billy.”

“Wow.” My eyes bounce around the entrance. “I’ve never seen it this empty before.”

“It’s all yours tonight.” Alexander squeezes my hand, and I don’t know if he realizes that he’s still holding onto it even though the paparazzi can’t see us. “Anywhere in particular you want to start, or should we just wander around?”

“Wander. Definitely wander.”

He smiles as he leads me further into the museum. “I’ve never been here before.”

“I used to come here all the time when I was younger. My mom would be dating some loser, and I wanted to get out of our tiny apartment. So, I’d come here and stare at the artwork for hours, in my own little peaceful world.”

He frowns like that upsets him.

“I haven’t been here in forever though. I’ve been so busy working that I haven’t taken the time to come back. There are so many new exhibits I’ve heard about.”

“Why do you love art?”

A small smile tugs at my lips as I gaze at the paintings before us. “I love how much it represents. An artist feels so much emotion—whether it’s anger, sadness, heartbreak, joy, love—that they need to get out and express it in these incredible art forms. They say so much more than words can. It’s like you’re looking at a piece of someone’s soul.”

We stop walking, and Alexander turns his attention to me. “Have you created any art?”

“I used to paint.” I hike a shoulder. “Nothing that great.”

“I’d like to see it one day.”

I roll my eyes. “In the words of my mother, it’s just shitty kid art.”

“I happen to like kid art.” He dips his head to make sure I’m looking into his eyes. “And nothing you do is shitty, Aarya.”

Warmth spreads throughout my body, but I clear my throat and avert my eyes from his intense gaze. “Come on, Big Man.”

We spend the next hour walking around, and Alexander listens intently while I tell him about each of the exhibits. He asks questions like he actually cares, and I have to hand it to him, he’s a great actor. It must be all the time spent listening to Giuliana’s endless rambling.

I point up ahead at the room we’re approaching. “This is my favorite spot in the entire museum. It’s called⁠—”

My feet stop and my heart falters.

The American Wing is a beautiful skylit courtyard with balconies and multi-levels filled with sculptures and paintings. I’ve seen it countless times during the day, but never at night—and never the way it looks right now.

A small round table covered in a white linen tablecloth sits in the center of the courtyard. Different sized LED candles flicker everywhere, casting a romantic glow around the table. A massive bouquet of red roses lays across one of the two chairs, and metal tins cover the plates at each place setting.

“What is this?” I whisper.

“This is dinner.” Alexander’s deep voice slides over me like hot butter. “I didn’t get to enjoy the meal with you when Giuliana broke her arm, so I wanted a do-over. This looked like the perfect spot.”

Dinner…inside the museum.

The museum he rented out for our date.

“Wow.” I inch closer to the table, in awe at how beautiful the setup looks. “But the paparazzi can’t see all of this.”

“This isn’t for them.” He lifts my hand and presses a soft kiss to the top of it. “The pictures outside might be for them, but this night is for you.”

My throat is tight, making it difficult to swallow. “This is too much.”

“You’re wrong.” Alexander leads me toward my seat. “This is exactly what you deserve.”

He pulls out my chair before I can get to it, and I lift the bouquet from the seat to my nose. “These are beautiful.”

“I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers you liked, but the color reminded me of your lips.”

I smirk as I lower myself into the seat. “You looking at my lips, Big Man?”

He takes the flowers from me wearing a smirk of his own. “Only about as often as you look at mine.”

So, all the time then. Got it.

I watch as Alexander pops the cork on a bottle of red wine and pours it into my empty glass. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, tapping on his screen, before soft music plays somewhere in the background.

“When did you have time to do all this?”

He hikes a shoulder like it’s no big deal. “Before I came to pick you up. Dinner was delivered about five minutes ago, so it’s hot.”

He uncovers the plate in front of me, and my mouth waters at the sight of a perfectly-cooked steak, accompanied by potatoes and vegetables.

“You do this for all your first dates?” I ask, eyeing him as he takes a seat across from me.

“Haven’t been on many first dates since I joined the Goldfinches, but I think all first dates should be something special.”

I know he’s pulling out all the stops tonight to make a show for the media, but something tells me Alexander is truly this romantic regardless of who’s watching.

We cut into our steaks, and a serene quiet blankets us while we enjoy our meals together. I can’t stop my gaze from wandering around the room, hoping to commit every second of this moment to my memory forever.

“How’s the food?” he asks.

“So good.” My eyes meet the concern in his. “Everything is so good, Alex.”

A small smile blooms on his face as he lets out a quiet laugh.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “I just really like it when you say my name.”

I didn’t even realize I called him Alex.

“Not Big Man, not a silly hockey nickname. Just Alex,” he explains.

And it’s now that I realize, I’m not the only one who hasn’t been on a proper date. If Alexander hasn’t had sex since Giuliana was born, then he hasn’t dated anyone either. He has isolated himself because he can’t trust that anyone will want him for more than his pro hockey player status—and on some level, I get that. I don’t let people in because it’s easier to keep them out rather than giving them the opportunity to disappoint me.

We might be total opposites in some ways, but Alexander and I are similar in others.

I reach across the table and lace my fingers with his. “Thank you for making tonight so special for me. I really appreciate all the effort you put into this, Alex.”

His fingers squeeze mine and his dark eyes glisten in the candlelight. “You deserve it.”

“I know it’s not easy letting people in, especially where your daughter is concerned. But I’m grateful that you’re letting me.” I let out a breath of a laugh. “Even if I’m totally not cut out for the job.”

“I think you’re going to surprise yourself with how perfect you are for this.”

The way he’s looking at me, surrounded by dozens of candles and the incredible backdrop of the museum, feels too much. Too real. Too much like I could get used to his belief that I’m worth more than a fun night between the sheets.

I pull back my hand and lift my knife again, busying myself with cutting another piece of steak. “We should discuss the contract.”

He clears his throat and sits upright in his chair. “Was there anything you’d like to amend?”

Reaching behind me, I pull out the tri-folded papers from my purse and flip to the second page. “It says here that you’re giving me the money upfront.”

Alexander nods. “And?”

I give him a dubious look. “Don’t you want to hold onto the money until you’re sure I’ve held up my end of the bargain?”

His dark brows pinch together. “I’m not holding this over your head, Aarya. You’re not enslaved to me. And I figured you’d want to get a head-start on finding a space for your gallery.”

“But you’re giving me the money to spend before we secure your parents’ villa.”

“Do you plan on taking my money and disappearing into the night, never to be seen again?”

“No, but⁠—”

“Then we’re good. You can take the money and get started on building your dream while we get my villa back.”

I lift my wine glass and bring it to my lips. “Okay.”

“How does the calendar I sent you look? I put a few away games in there, but you don’t have to come to them if you can’t get off work.” He swallows and dabs the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “But I was thinking, with the money upfront, maybe you’d want to quit your job and⁠—”

“I can’t just quit my job.”

“But your boss is harassing you. I thought you’d be happy to get away from him.”

“It’s not just about him. I have bills to pay, and finding a space for a gallery of my own will take time. I can’t risk it.”

His head tilts as he leans back against his chair. “Aarya, just so we’re clear: You’ll be living with me—all expenses paid. Anything you need money for, I will provide. If you want new shoes, or a manicure, or money for your phone bill, or hell, if you want a car, it’s on me.”

I cough out an incredulous laugh. “No fucking way am I letting you be my sugar daddy.”

He purses his lips. “That’s not what this is, and you know it.”

“I have to stand on my own two feet. I can’t just quit my job and live in delusion as if you’re going to be my provider.”

“But I am going to be your provider. I’m going to be your husband.”

I lean in and lower my voice, even though nobody else is listening. “You’re going to be my fake husband. What if I can’t get the gallery up and running in time? What if our contract ends before the gallery comes to fruition? What if the gallery completely fails?”

“My money is yours for as long as you need it. I have more than enough, and I’m not going to cut you off just because the contract is over.” His eyes narrow. “You’re helping me keep my family’s villa. I’m eternally indebted to you. Don’t you see how important that is to me?”

“I can’t ask you to do that for me.” I shake my head. “I need a fallback plan.”

“Let me be your fallback.”

I grew up watching my mother trust the word of a man, promising to take care of her only to dump her on her ass the second he was done with her. We struggled financially and I swore to myself I’d never follow in her footsteps. As much as I want to believe that Alexander means what he says, I just can’t allow myself to. What’s to keep him from going back on his word once he has secured the villa?

“Thank you, but I’ll be staying at my job for as long as I can, until it’s the right time to leave.” I wave a dismissive hand, hoping he’ll drop it. “I make my own money and I can take care of myself.”

His lips turn downward, and I know he’s not happy with my response, but he doesn’t push the issue.

We finish eating, and then he lays his napkin on the table as he pushes out of his seat.

He tugs my hand, pulling me up. “Dance with me.”

“Don’t you want to finish the tour?”

“We will. We have plenty of time for that.” He pulls me close and rests his hands on my waist. “We have the place to ourselves for as long as you’d like.”

I wrap my hands around the back of his neck and sway to the soft music playing in the background.

He dips his head and speaks low at the cusp of my ear. “I’ve had a hard time letting people in, as you can see when it comes to my daughter. Letting you into my personal life, knowing you’re going to be a part of Giuliana’s world, isn’t easy for me. I’ve never told anyone this before, but her mother took advantage of me.”

My head jerks back as I look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve always kept my drinking to a minimum because of what happened to my parents. The night I met her, I only had two beers. After that, my memory gets hazy.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “And I always use protection during sex. Yet there was no evidence of a condom anywhere when I finally woke up the next morning. She was already gone at that point. But at the time I didn’t think anything of it. I figured I let things get a little out of hand, and that was that.”

I believe him wholeheartedly. Alexander is always careful and needs to be in control. Having a wild night of drinking and unprotected sex doesn’t sound like him.

“Men get roofied too, you know. It’s not as common as when it happens to women, but it does happen.”

He nods, his eyes not meeting mine as he continues. “She showed up at my house with a positive pregnancy test a month later, and said she couldn’t afford to keep the baby. Of course, I offered to take care of her medical expenses, and I told her I wanted her to keep the baby if that’s what she wanted. I went to every appointment, gave her money for whatever she needed. Food; prenatal vitamins; I even paid her rent.

“I was there in the delivery room. I saw Giuliana come into this world, and it was the most incredible miracle I’ve ever witnessed. Then I had an away game the next day. But when I returned to the hospital to see them, they were gone.”

I try to school my features so he doesn’t see how horrified I am.

“I panicked. I searched everywhere for them. I called Giuliana’s mother—Rachel—and texted her for two days straight. Then a letter showed up at my house. Rachel wanted money in exchange for Giuliana.”

Anger spikes in my veins. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Rachel never planned on keeping her. She conned me. Strung me along the entire time just to get money out of me.”

“And if you didn’t want her to keep the baby when she first came to you?”

He blinks back tears. “She would’ve terminated the pregnancy and probably tried to con someone else.”

“How much did you give her?” I whisper.

“I was desperate to get my baby girl away from her.”

“How much, Alex?”

“Half a million.”

I suck in a gasp, unable to contain my reaction. “That fucking psychopath got away with half a million dollars?”

He hikes a shoulder. “I would’ve given her anything she asked for just to hold Giuliana in my arms.”

Jesus Christ. This poor man.

“Why didn’t you go to the cops, or get a lawyer?”

“I was embarrassed. I felt like a fool. And nobody would ever believe that a woman could take advantage of a big guy like me.” He shakes his head. “I was so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. That bitch deserves to get hit by a bus. Hell, let’s find her. I’ll do it myself.”

One corner of his mouth curves up. “Easy, spitfire.”

I rest my head on his shoulder and stroke the hair at the back of his head. “I know you wouldn’t have Giuliana without that piece of shit, but I hate that she has her DNA.”

He hums in response. “So, I know you’ve been through experiences in your life that have made it difficult for you to trust people, especially men. But I want you to know, just because that’s the way it’s always been doesn’t mean that’s the way it always will be. Not everyone is out to get us. You have Cassidy, and I have my friends. We’ve created a small circle of people we can count on. And I hope in time, you’ll see that you can count on me too.”

I don’t know what to say, so I close my eyes and let his words sink in as he continues.

“I know you pride yourself on your independence, and I’m not trying to take that away from you. I just want to make things easier for you. It’s okay to accept help sometimes—the kind of help that doesn’t come with strings attached.”

I heave a sigh and let my fingers run through the silky curls at the back of his head. “Please tell me you have some kind of weird deformity, like a tail or a third nipple. Or maybe you save your toenail clippings in a jar.”

He blinks. “What?”

“You can’t be this perfect all of the time. There has to be something wrong with you.”

His head tilts back as he laughs. “So you’re hoping I collect toenail clippings? That would make you feel better?”

I scrunch my nose in disgust. “I mean no, but I just want to find out what’s wrong with you.”

“Maybe there’s nothing wrong with me. Maybe I’m just a normal guy.”

I shake my head. “No way.”

His arms squeeze around me, drawing me closer. “I think you’re trying to find something wrong with me so you can stop yourself from liking me so much.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t like you. I tolerate you.”

His chest rumbles against mine with his laughter. “Sure, you do.”

I hate the way it feels like he can see right through me. I do like him. As a person. As someone I’d consider a friend. As someone I can trust.

And that scares the shit out of me.

I step back from him, and tug his elbow. “Come on, Big Man. Let’s go before your head fills up this entire room.”

After I showed Alexander every inch of my favorite parts of the museum, we head back to the main entrance.

An even bigger crowd than before awaits us.

“I’m going to talk to them as we walk to the truck,” Alexander says. “You can smile and say hi if you’re comfortable. Otherwise, just hold onto me and keep your head down.”

I stick my arms into my jacket as he holds it out for me, and my eyes survey the scene outside. “I can say hi.”

Alexander slips his hand into mine and waves goodbye to the security guard. “Thanks for being here tonight, Billy.”

“Anytime, Mr. Krum. Good luck out there.”

I suck in a deep breath right as we push through the door and exit the museum. Cameras click and the shouting begins.

Alexander flashes the paparazzi a killer smile as he lifts his free hand to wave at them. “Have a good night, everyone.”

“Krum Cake, who is this you have on your arm tonight?” someone shouts.

“This is my girlfriend, Aarya.” He glances at me and his smile widens. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

The shouting gets even louder, more questions being fired at us as we make our way down the stairs.

I try my best to lift my head and smile, but the flashes are so bright, I can’t see a damn thing.

“Can we get a kiss for the camera?” another man yells.

Now would be the perfect opportunity to kiss me while everyone’s watching. Alexander gazes down at me, a slight smile tilting his lips. His eyes bounce between mine before dropping to my mouth. I grip onto his arm, readying myself to put on a show in front of all of these people like we’re animals at the zoo.

But he doesn’t kiss me.

Instead, he leads me to the SUV and tucks me inside.

Disappointment flares in my gut during the ride home, but I shove it down. It’s not that I wanted to kiss on camera; it’s that Alexander finally had an excuse to kiss me, and he chose not to. This man will probably go the entire fake marriage without setting his lips on me once.

It’s quiet in the vehicle on the ride back to my apartment, and as soon as Sam pulls over in front of my building, I hop out and toss a quick goodbye over my shoulder. “Thanks for tonight.”

“Aarya, wait.” Alexander chases after me as I quickly make my way across the sidewalk toward the stairs.

“I had a great time. Let’s just leave it⁠—”

Before I can finish my sentence, Alexander grips my wrist and spins me around to face him. “I didn’t want our first kiss to be for them.”

Them. The paparazzi.

“And why’s that?”

“Because I want it to belong to me.” He brushes his nose against mine. “Because I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first night we met.” His hands come up to cup my face. “Because I don’t want you to think I’m doing this for the cameras.”

I fight to slow my racing heart. “No cameras around now.”

His eyes drop to my lips.

I hold my breath, waiting for him to make the first move—needing him to be the one to do it.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

And then his mouth covers mine.

One large hand snakes around my waist to hold me against him, while the other settles at the base of my head, sinking his fingers into my hair and keeping me where he wants me. His tongue surges between my lips, taking all of my air with him as he deepens the kiss.

All I can do is fist his shirt and try to keep up with him, my shoes barely touching the floor, completely at his mercy as he claims me. My entire body comes alive—my skin heating and desire pulsing between my legs. I can honestly say that I’ve never been kissed with such fervor, such need.

Possession.

I take both of his hands and guide them to my ass, letting him know what I want and granting him the permission I know he needs. He groans into my mouth as he squeezes two overflowing handfuls and hauls me against the front of the building. I lift my legs and cross my ankles around his waist as he lifts me, not caring that I’m in a dress or that anyone can see us. The only thing I can focus on is the fact that this giant, beautiful man is kissing me like his life depends on it.

He massages my tongue with his, sending shock waves straight to my clit. The kiss is slow and sensual, yet strong and demanding at the same time. That’s exactly how Alexander is, an oxymoron of soft and hard, gentle and firm.

I suck his plump bottom lip into my mouth and bite it, eliciting another deep groan from his chest. I want more of those noises, want more of him to unravel until he’s no longer in control of himself.

But he pulls back too soon.

I pout in protest, nowhere near ready for the loss of his mouth.

He drops his forehead against mine, holding me steady against the building while his chest heaves. “You’re going to be my undoing. And I don’t know how to stop it.”

“Maybe you don’t stop it.” I trace his plump lips with my index finger. “Maybe you just let it happen.”

He sets me down on my feet and hits me with a pleading gaze, like he’s begging me to stop tempting him.

After what he shared with me tonight, now knowing what Giuliana’s awful mother did to him, I realize how much he needs to be in control. I can’t pressure him to take me upstairs and ravish me, as much as I want him to. That decision needs to be his.

For the first time ever, I don’t want to be a man’s lust-filled impulse.

I want to be his choice.

I give Alexander a playful shove and lighten the mood. “I guess it’s time for me to go. I officially have a standing date with my vibrator every night since you took me off the market.”

His eyes close as he stifles a groan. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

“Not a chance, Cream Puff.” I shoot him a wink and jog up the steps of my apartment building.

“Hey, Aarya.”

I spin around at the top of the stairs.

His eyes bounce between mine. “How did I do on our first date?”

“I think you’ve ruined me for all other dates.” I shake my head, still in disbelief that this man went through the trouble of renting out one of the biggest art galleries in the world. “No one will ever be able to top the MET.”

A sly grin spreads across his face, as if that was precisely his plan.