Season’s Schemings: A Holiday Hockey Rom Com

One very eventful hour later, Sebastian and I are walking into our designated bedroom with the premise of “freshening up for dinner”—which earned a loud guffaw from Adam’s grandmother as she slugged back her fifth brandy of the evening.

The second the door closes behind us, Seb chucks our bags on the ground and falls on the bed, laughing. “Oh my gosh, Mads, that was insane.”

I don’t reply, because I’m too busy staring at the four-poster bed he’s currently sprawled across, his big chest rising and falling as he chuckles to himself. The bed itself is lovely—made of a mahogany wood that plays off the dark wood walls, and the green and crimson flannel bedspread matches the curtains. There are about ten huge, fluffy pillows on top, but they’re all mussed up thanks to Sebastian’s current starfish position.

I love a good throw pillow, and resist the urge to shoo Seb off the bed so I can fluff them all up and put them back in place.

As I’m paused in the doorway, reflecting on this, Seb props himself up on one arm to look at me. “What? You don’t think that went well? I’m pretty sure I made a good first impression.”

He definitely did.

After we dropped our H-bomb, Adam ogled us like a goldfish, and then proceeded to handle the shock of meeting his athletic hero in the flesh—and finding out the guy is now married to his ex—by asking tons of personal, almost intrusive questions, rapid-fire style. All of which Seb answered calmly, with perfect composure, as he played with my hair and pretended to be head-over-heels in love with me.

But on top of that, Seb was slick enough to show up with wine and chocolates for both our host and my mother, and then won all the women over by dropping compliments on literally everything in sight (including the heinous art on the walls). And also by pretending that he thought Adam’s tiny, sassy, gray-hair-in-a-bun grandma was his aunt.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, Seb went on to ask my stepdad and Adam’s father questions about their lines of work in criminal defense law. In turn, he regaled them with some appropriately hilarious tales about being in the NHL, spending time in the sin bin, and someone named Wayne Gretzky.

I may or may not have thought that Seb was saying Wayne Jetski at first, which is a way better name. Seb was unimpressed to the max with me, because apparently this Gretzky character is a Canadian hero.

Who knew.

But that’s not what I’m concerned about right now. Because I’m only now realizing that, as we are a married couple, the guest bedroom Alicia assigned us has only one bed.

Because what newlywed couple sleeps in separate beds?

I sink into a decorative armchair in the corner. “I didn’t think about the sleeping situation.”

He looks at the flannel comforter, then back up at me. Shrugs. “No big deal. What’s a few sleepovers between a temporary husband and wife?”

My brain is misfiring right now—obviously payback for the chaos I caused downstairs.

It may be night one at the cabin, but this new, increased proximity between Seb and me is making everything I’ve been feeling of late seem escalated. Elevated.

The problem obviously isn’t sleeping. The problem is the pesky amount of attraction I’m feeling for Seb. Attraction that’s been growing night after night as we sit on the couch at his apartment, talking and laughing and watching movies. And don’t even get me started on how he rubbed my feet just right last night. Holy moly. I’m beginning to realize I like Seb a bit too much for my own good, and this is something that sleeping next to him is hardly going to quell.

I can only cross my fingers and make a Christmas wish that he snores like a freight train and farts in his sleep.

“Oh, come on.” Seb grins at my dithering and pats the bed beside him. “I promise I don’t bite. Unless you want me to, that is.”

“Stop it!” I instruct, my entire body blushing a vibrant shade of Christmas crimson—the exact shade of red that that frosting should have been.

“Relax, I’m kidding.” Seb rolls his eyes and starts piling up the pillows, making a line down the middle of the bed. “We can build a little pillow wall so you don’t come anywhere near me. The Great Wall of Slater. So that no mini Slaters will be made on this trip.”

“Seb!”

“Sorry, sorry. I promise I’ll stop now.” He chuckles and gets off the bed. Stretches out his arms towards me and gives me his sweet, sincere smile, that cocky smirk he was wearing melting away like spring snow. “C’mere.”

I step into his hug and relax immediately. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too, Maddie.” He squeezes me tight. “Everyone believes us so far. Eugene looked like he was going to explode. We got this thing.”

“Just wait ‘til Jax gets here,” I murmur. “He’s never going to buy it.”

I was relieved to learn that my brother won’t be arriving until later this evening. Making my ex jealous of my level up is one thing. Lying to Jax is another. And there’s no way he’s not going to see right through me.

“Don’t worry. I can be very convincing.”

A shiver runs through me as I lean into his chest, relishing the feel of his strong arms around me as I breathe in his woodsy, sexy smell. He’s got that right.

“Now,” he says as he pulls back with a sly grin. “Be a good wife and cover your eyes so I can get changed.”