Center of Gravity: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (An Ice Tigers Hockey Romance Book 2)

by Isabella Cassazza

  My alarm beeps, and I sit up straight. So much for catching some sleep. I shed my clothes and step into the bathroom. Under different circumstances, I’d make the most out of the massive walk-in shower and the massage streams. But neither do I have the time nor the leisure to find out how to program the little computer in the middle of the shower, and I’m glad when warm water pours out of the jet stream in the middle.

  After the shower, I put my makeup on and comb my hair.

  I won’t wear the tiara and veil I imagined myself in when I was six years old, so why bother with a complicated updo I can’t manage myself anyway?

  I glance in the mirror one last time and put my dress on. It’s a light blue Ravelli design from last season with a knee-length skirt made of chiffon. The skirt plays around my knees when I walk, and the bodice shows just the right amount of cleavage.

  I’m not sure what Matt is going to wear and if the blue will fit his colors, but I don’t care. It didn’t seem right to wear a white dress. I’ll save that for my real wedding—if there ever will be one. I’ll be a single mom after this marriage ends, after all.

  I take a deep breath and open the door, just to pause in the doorway.

  Matt is standing across from my door, leaning against the wall while looking at his phone—in his custom-made Ravelli suit. While the pants are dark blue, the jacket is a lighter shade of blue, resembling a cloud-free sky on a summer day. It’s trendy and not something I thought he’d pick, but it fits him to perfection. I want to kiss the tailor who suggested this combination for him.

  “You didn’t have to.” I point at his suit.

  He looks up. “I like this suit.”

  “You look great.”

  His gaze wanders up and down my body. Goose bumps appear where his eyes melt my skin, but he doesn’t say anything. My face falls.

  “Shall we?” I walk past him, not wanting him to see my disappointment. Couldn’t he at least have said I look good too? He didn’t have to mean it, just say it to be polite.

  In the elevator, I double-check my makeup. I only used mascara, a nude lipstick, and peach-colored rouge, but it never hurts to check for smudges.

  The silence is deafening once the doors close. Will it always be this awkward between us?

  We stop on the second floor, and a young couple steps inside holding hands. At least we’ll have company for the rest of the ride.

  “I’m so excited. I can’t wait to be your wife.” The girl throws her arms around the man and kisses him soundly.

  He pulls back and caresses her cheek. “I love you.”

  “Love you more.”

  I blink back the tears pooling in the corner of my eyes. Be careful with what you wish for. Watching these lovebirds feels like a punch in the gut.

  I close my eyes and inhale, placing a hand over my belly. I’ll do it for you, little ones. But if there ever is to be a real marriage, it’ll be only to a man who looks at me like the sun has just risen in the darkest night. No compromises allowed.

  The lovebirds leave the elevator in the lobby, and Matt takes my arm, steering me to the jewelry shop.

  “Hello. I’m Cindy. How can I help you?” A saleswoman steps around the counter with a broad smile on her face.

  Matt clears his throat. “Hi. We want to buy wedding rings.”

  “Congratulations. So, you’re getting married in Vegas?” She beams at him.

  I grab his arm tighter. “Yes. It’s romantic to elope, isn’t it?” My voice sounds forced to my own ears. Keep up appearance, Emilia, I scold myself.

  “Absolutely.” She draws the word out like it was made of chewing gum. “So, do you already have an idea about your rings? What does your engagement ring look like?”

  “Um… I….” Matt drops my arm before I can say more, and I turn to him.

  He pulls a little box out of his suit pocket and opens it. “Here. That’s the engagement ring.”

  “Beautiful.” Cindy claps her hands together. “What a stunning design. I’ll put a display together with matching rings. Just wait a second.”

  “When did you buy this ring?” I manage to press out.

  “It was my nanna’s engagement ring.”

  My mouth falls open. Why is he giving me that ring? My eyes well up. I hate pregnancy hormones.

  “You can’t give it to me.” I look at the beautiful art deco aquamarine ring in the box.

  “It’s a loan.”

  “I…. It doesn’t feel right.” I know he’s only giving me the ring to complete the picture, but my heart doesn’t care about his motives.

  “Shhh… there are people in here. You need an engagement ring. No one will believe I didn’t buy you one. Lily actually asked me about your engagement ring, and I told her it was being altered for you.”

  “When….” I swallow down the tears and clear my throat. “When did you talk to her?” I stare at the box, unable to meet his gaze.

  “When Danny gave you the massage.”

  I swallow. “Okay. Well, I guess I don’t have a choice then. But… how do you know it’ll fit me?” I dare to look up again.

  He scratches his neck. “I… I don’t. But you and my nanna both have slim fingers.”

  I exhale and place my hand in front of him. “Let’s try it.”

  He takes the ring out of its shelter and pushes it on my ring finger while I hold my breath.

  It fits like it was made for me. “It’s stunning. Your grandfather must have loved your nanna very much.” For a split second, it feels as if this marriage is real. For a split second, I let myself imagine how it would feel to belong to someone. To have someone at my side. Someone to stand beside me and someone who would support me at all times. But it isn’t real. Not this time.

  He nods. “He—”

  Just then, Cindy enters the room again. “Here we go. Let’s see if you find something you like.” She places a big tablet with different rings on the glass table in front of us.

  Matt sits down and looks at the display.

  I shake my head but then take the seat next to him. Okay, Emilia. Logical approach here. It needs to match the engagement ring. The blue stone is statement enough. Something smaller. Maybe with diamonds. Definitely not a second color. So, it has to be silver or platinum.

  But do I choose something I like or something I’ll be glad to get rid of when this marriage ends? I’ll have to look at it daily for a year and a half, but if I like the ring, won’t it be difficult to part with it?

  There should be a manual for marriages with an expiration date. With the divorce rate reaching higher and higher, at least in Italy, that could be a business thing.

  But it won’t help me today.

  I scan the display. Most of the rings are wide and with big stones. Together with the engagement ring, it’ll look weird on my slim fingers. My gaze finds a narrow platinum band with six diamond dots. It would complement the aquamarine. And I like the style. “This one.” I point at the band. We only have thirty minutes anyway.

  “You have great taste. It’ll look great with your engagement ring. Let’s try it on.”

  She hands the ring to Matt. Like a pro, he pushes the second ring on my hand. That part won’t be a problem at the wedding ceremony anymore.

  Don’t get your hopes up, Emilia. We’re only putting on a show.

  “A perfect fit.” Cindy takes another ring out of the display. “This one would be a perfect match for your fiancé.” She hands me a plain platinum band.

  I hesitate for a split second. Then I take the cool metal out of her hand and reach for Matt’s hand. I should be allowed to practice as well.

  I have to shove twice, but then the ring is in place.

  “Is it too tight?” Cindy asks.

  Matt turns the ring on his finger. “No, it’s a perfect fit. I broke my knuckles before. That’s why it’s difficult to put a ring on.”

  “Yay.” Cindy claps her hands again. “You’re ready to get married. I’ll bring you a box for both rings.” And wi
th that, she disappears behind the counter, leaving Matt and me in silence.

  I look at the rings on my hand. This is really happening. In an hour, I’ll be a married woman. Fake married woman. Or a married for one-and-a-half-years woman.

  Whatever it is, a knot forms in my stomach.

  “Are you all right?” Matt startles me.

  I nod. “Sure. Let’s get married.”

  Matt takes care of the bill, and I follow him outside. Do I offer to pay for my wedding ring myself? It’s not that he can’t afford the ring, but… is now a good time to talk about who is going to pay what when we live together? Why does this have to be so complicated? I sure as hell could use that manual.

  The ride to the chapel is a short and silent one. Once we arrive, everything happens in a blur. We’re told to stand before a middle-aged guy in a suit, while two students stand witness to the short ceremony.

  My hands are ice-cold and shake before I’m told to place them into Matt’s giant ones. His skin is warm. And when he rubs my hands with his calloused fingers, a shiver runs through my body. Our eyes meet. I could lose myself in his moss-green eyes, like I did in Positano.

  Pushing back the memories, I concentrate on the minister’s words.

  “And do you, Matt, take Emilia to be your wife?”

  “I do.” His voice breaks as he says the words.

  The minister turns to me. “And do you, Emilia, take Matt to be your husband?”

  “I do.” My voice is clear and steady.

  “I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Kiss? Shit! I didn’t think of that either. Before I can do anything about it, Matt crushes me against his body and kisses me. Not a short peck, but a joining of mouths. And tongues. And… I swoon in his arms. Heat runs through my body, and I rub myself against what I suspect is a growing erection. If I could, I’d crawl right into him. It’s like we’re back where it all began. On a hotel rooftop in Positano where nothing mattered but the powerful pull between us.

  Where he wasn’t my employee. Where our little ones were still flying in Nirvana. Where a fake marriage was the last thing on my mind.

  With that sobering thought in mind, I pull back. Matt’s chest is heaving, and his eyes are wide open as we face each other like boxers in the ring.

  At least I know I’m not the only one feeling our physical attraction. That’s what it is. Animalistic physical attraction. From the very first minute we met.

  Maybe we should get it out of our system? I never had a friends-with-benefits arrangement before. But it may be worth a try—if we were friends, which we are not, and if we weren’t forever bound by our babies. We’ll have to be able to communicate in the future. Sex might make that awkward.

  How often will I have to kiss him during our fake marriage? How often will he have to hold me in his arms? And how will my poor heart survive these encounters?

  “Congratulations.” Our minister shakes our hands. And we’re done. That’s how you get married in Vegas. Easy peasy. And they lived happily ever after or for one and half years without losing their minds. Hopefully.

  I avoid Matt’s gaze when we step outside in the Vegas sunshine and get in the waiting car. Instead of making conversation, I pay attention to the streets and ads for several shows.

  I’ve never been to Las Vegas. But even with my limited knowledge about the city, I know it’s a gambler’s paradise and world-famous for its shows. Gambling isn’t my thing, but I wouldn’t mind a Cirque du Soleil show. Unfortunately, we can’t be seen—not until we tell the team. And my grandfather. He’ll freak out. That’s a given. But he’ll understand in the end. Maybe next year. Maybe never. Maybe he’ll disinherit me on the spot.

  I may have to talk to Gianluca first. He might be able to reason with him—better than I’d be able to reason with him anyway. It’s pathetic. Gianluca has been in the picture for what, a little over two years? Whereas I’ve been around my whole life.

  Rather than hating on the golden boy, I’d better use his influence for my benefit.

  I blink twice when the driver opens the door for me to get out of the car. How did we get back so fast? The drive to the chapel seemed twice as long.

  In the elevator, I take in my appearance in the mirror. I don’t look different. Isn’t one supposed to look and feel different after getting married? Happy? Enthusiastic?

  All I am is tired and drained.

  “Do you want to order room service?” Matt startles me when we enter the suite.

  “Um. Sure.” I plop down on the leather couch and look outside the window.

  “We could eat on the couch.”

  If I can’t get out on my wedding day, I might as well watch the Las Vegas skyline and the lights. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Our first conversation as a married couple isn’t very inspiring. But it is what it is. At least Matt is talking to me now. Baby steps, Emilia. Baby steps. At the end of our marriage, we might have hour-long conversations. About hockey. And our babies. Maybe.

  I sigh and take the menu out of Matt’s hand. “What are you having?”

  “A burger.”

  Fitting. Fast food after our assembly belt wedding. “Cool.” This one-word-answer thing saves time, doesn’t it?

  “If you would rather have something else, we could go out—”

  “We shouldn’t be seen together, not until we make the announcement on Monday.”

  He nods and rubs his chin but doesn’t say anything.

  I scan the menu. Gourmet Burger and Sushi. What kind of combination is that? I should have paid more attention to the menu when I booked the hotel. Sushi isn’t a good idea while pregnant. So, burger it is. Without onions. I’m torn between the avocado burger with beef and avocado crème and the masterpiece burger, which is a regular burger with a fancy name. Marketing is everything.

  “I’ll take the masterpiece.” I look up to find Matt’s gaze upon me. He nods and calls to place our order. And then we wait. In silence. This wedding night has to set a world record in the least words exchanged between a man and his wife ever. Matt is back to flipping through another magazine. This one is about fishing. He came prepared. I wish I’d brought my e-book reader. But as it is, I didn’t. It’ll be a long night. I wish I was tired enough to sleep. But I’m not. Hell, I don’t know what I feel. Anger? Frustration? Irritation? Because Matt kissed me to make our wedding seem real? I was the one who booked the photographer and the video. He had to kiss me for the video. After that kiss, no one will doubt we’re hopelessly in love.

  When our food arrives, I sigh with relief. At least I’ll have something to do now. Matt places my burger in front of me. He’s shed his jacket and shoved his sleeves up. But like me, he’s still in his wedding attire. What is it about men that they appear ten times sexier with their sleeves up, especially when they have arms with bulging biceps like Matt’s?

  I wish I could open the window to cool my heated skin, but I don’t see a handle and don’t want to look like an idiot trying to open a window that might not open at all. I dig into my burger, and sauce is dripping down my chin. Before I can reach for a napkin, Matt reaches for one and pats it against my skin.

  How did he see that? Was he watching me eat?

  I’m not eating like a lady right now. I’m hungry, for God’s sake. And impressing one’s fake husband isn’t necessary, is it?

  But I’m a polite person. “Thank you,” I say with my mouth full. He mumbles something I’m unable to understand and digs into his burger.

  I’m not sure whether I want to laugh or cry. Here we are, sitting in a hotel room in Vegas, watching the colorful lights around us indicating where the nightlife is picking up speed, and eating burgers for our wedding dinner.

  My six-year-old self should beat the living shit out of me. Not that she’d know of a place like Vegas and such a thing like fake weddings for the sake of one’s unborn one-night stand babies existed. And I wish I didn’t either.

  Chapter 15

  Emilia<
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  I’m bone-tired and emotionally drained as I wait for Matt to open the door to his apartment. It wasn’t a big surprise that I had a hard time falling asleep after our wedding day. The rings on my fingers felt like they were pulling my arm down and restricting my blood flow. But I didn’t want to take them off. Couldn’t really. And I won’t, not for the duration of our marriage. They’re a symbol of my foolishness. I wish I could say I wouldn’t approach Matt again if time machines existed, but I’m pretty sure I’d still be drawn to his brooding silence. Which makes me a fool. Plain and simple.

  Matt opens the door for me to step inside, but I stop after half a step. What the hell?

  The apartment is filled with white balloons. Overflowing with balloons. So full there’s no space to walk inside anymore. The hallway is filled, and from what I can see from my spot at the entrance, at least part of the living room is as well.

  “What the fuck?” Matt brushes past me and shoves some balloons out of the way.

  “Whoever did this had his hands full and his lungs out of breath.” I follow him inside and manage to close the door. My suitcase drowns underneath balloons, but at the moment, I couldn’t care less. I like this balloon thing. Were the circumstances different, I’d dive right into them and play. Like a child. I’m not sure how Matt would react to me living out a childhood fantasy. I never got a roomful of balloons. “Who has a key to your apartment and knows about the wedding?”

  Matt rubs his chin. “Must be Tyler. And Lily. Danny might have helped. I don’t know what they were thinking….” He lifts his hands and motions around while his mouth opens and closes.

  Is he embarrassed? It’s cute. Kind of. “We have to thank them. They meant well. And if this were a real marriage, I’d be over the moon.”

  “Thank them?” He says it like he’s never thanked a single person in his life.

  “Yes, Matt. Tell them we loved their surprise.” I pick up a balloon and throw it in the air, punching it like a volleyball toward Matt. “They spent considerable time with these balloons. It must have taken ages to fill them up. At least we’ll have to say thank you. Let’s call them.”