playing the perfect couple

Alaric’s POV

Giving up my captaincy was not something I had ever considered.

Not when Coach Brandt had trusted me with the position two years ago. My father had reminded me a thousand times that being captain proved I was better than the other players. And I had spent most of my life working to become the kind of hockey player people respected.

Yet there I was on Thursday afternoon, sitting across from Jovian Mercer in an empty corner of the library, listening to him explain why he deserved my position.

“You can’t be serious,” I said.

He leaned back in his chair. “I am completely serious, Captain.”

“You want me to hand over the captaincy because you’re pretending to be my boyfriend for one dinner?”

“Not quite. I want you to hand it over if I succeed in making your parents believe we’re a real couple.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Then don’t agree.”

He returned his attention to his phone, looking like nothing in this world bothered him. I stared at him, wondering how someone could be so talented on the ice and so infuriating everywhere else.

“You’re not even eligible to be captain,” I reminded him. “You’re just a rookie for Christmas sake.”

“Which is why it would be hilarious if I beat you.”

“I’m not losing my position to you.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to convince your parents that you love me all by yourself.”

“I don’t love you.”

“Good. Then we don't have to worry about kissing.”

I nearly knocked my chair over.

“Can you stop talking about kissing? Nobody is kissing anybody.”

“Why? We have to do something intimate to convince them. Is the thought of kissing me that terrifying?”

“Fuck off.”

“Then we’re making progress.”

I took a slow breath. Coach had already warned us that our rivalry was becoming a problem, and I had a showcase to survive on Friday before my parents arrived. The last thing I needed was another argument with Mercer.

“Fine,” I said.

His head lifted.“Fine what?”

“If you manage to convince my parents that we’re genuinely in love, I’ll let you have a shot at the captaincy.”

He blinked, clearly surprised I had agreed.

Then his smile spread.

“Careful, Captain. You might regret that.”

“I already regret knowing you.”

“That’s the spirit, sweetheart.”

I stood and gathered my books.

“One more thing. If you embarrass me in front of my father, this deal is off.”

Jovian rose too, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Relax. I’ll be the perfect boyfriend.”

“That statement alone makes me nervous.”

“Good. You should be nervous.”

He walked away laughing, leaving me with the uncomfortable realization that I had just placed my captaincy in the hands of the most reckless person on our team.

Friday’s showcase was a disaster waiting to happen.

At least, that’s what I expected when Coach Brandt called Jovian and me into the locker room that morning and reminded us that several university officials, prospective recruits, and sports representatives would be watching.

“Your job is to demonstrate teamwork,” Coach said,“Not to turn this into another competition between yourselves.”

“Understood,” I replied.

Jovian nodded solemnly. “Absolutely, Coach. We’re practically inseparable.”

I kicked his skate bag.

He grinned.

Coach pinched the bridge of his nose. “If either of you makes me regret this assignment, you’ll spend the next week doing extra conditioning.”

We behaved for approximately twenty minutes.

During the skills demonstration, Jovian attempted a move that wasn’t part of the drill. I adjusted to cover the space he left open, and we finished the sequence without giving Coach a reason to blow his whistle.

During the question-and-answer session, he answered a question about team discipline by saying, “Our captain is very passionate about making sure nobody steps out of line.”

The audience laughed.

I gave him a warning look.

He continued. “Sometimes he forgets that hockey is a team sport, though. We’re working on that.”

More laughter followed.

I wanted to strangle him.

But when a prospective recruit asked how we managed to play together despite our differences, Jovian gave a surprisingly thoughtful answer.

“Alaric sees things on the ice that most people miss. He’s good at reading a play before it happens. I tend to take risks, and sometimes those risks pay off. Sometimes they don’t. The important thing is knowing when to trust each other.”

I glanced at him.

For once, he wasn’t smiling or trying to provoke me. He sounded sincere. Which was weird.

When it was my turn to respond, I admitted that Jovian’s unpredictability could be an advantage when he used it properly. Coach looked so pleased.

By the end of the showcase, we had impressed the audience, avoided extra laps, and received praise for our teamwork.

Jovian was insufferable about it.

“Admit it, Captain. We’re good together.”

“On the ice.”

“Of course. Where else?”

I ignored him, though his grin followed me all the way to the parking lot.

My parents had attended the showcase. I spotted them among the spectators while Jovian and I were on stage answering questions. My father sat beside my mother, watching us with the same critical expression he wore whenever he evaluated my performance.

For one uncomfortable moment, our eyes met, but I immediately looked away.

When the event ended, I saw my parents approaching the stage. I knew exactly what they wanted: to congratulate me, ask questions, and remind me that Mr. Callahan would be joining us for dinner the following evening.

I wasn’t ready for that conversation, especially with Jovian standing beside me.

So I took advantage of the crowd.

I slipped backstage, collected my things, and left through a side exit before my parents could reach me.

My phone started buzzing before I even reached the parking lot.

I ignored the first call from my mother, then the second from my father.

A message appeared a few minutes later.

Dad: pick up your phone.

I sighed and shoved my phone into my pocket.

There was no escaping him forever, but at least I had managed to postpone the conversation until Saturday.

By the time I got home, I already Saturday’s dinner would be the longest evening of my life.

I had no idea how right I was.

At six forty-five on Saturday evening, I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting my tie for the third time.

I had worn suits to university events, award ceremonies, and dinners with people my father wanted to impress. None of them had made me as uncomfortable as this one. Because tonight, I wasn’t simply going to dinner with my parents.

I was taking Jovian Mercer as my boyfriend. The thought alone made me want to reconsider every decision that had led me here.

My phone buzzed.

Jovian: Outside. Open the door before I freeze to death.

I frowned at the message. It was barely cool outside.

Me: Use the doorbell like a normal person.

Jovian: Your boyfriend is here. Show some enthusiasm.

I went downstairs and opened the front door.

Jovian stood on the doorstep wearing black trousers, a fitted dark shirt, and a jacket that looked far more expensive than anything I had ever seen him wear to class. His hair was neatly styled, and he had even bothered to put on a watch.

I stared for a second longer than necessary. Then I remembered who I was looking at.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

He glanced down at himself. “Nothing much.”

“You look different.”

“Thank you. I was hoping you’d notice.”

“Don’t get excited. I meant you look suspicious.”

He laughed and stepped inside. “Ready to go?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Excellent. Let’s go meet the people responsible for creating my amazing boyfriend.”

“They’re not responsible for your suffering. I am.”

“Trust me, Captain. I’m well aware of that.”

I checked my phone one last time before grabbing my keys. Jovian was already waiting by the door.

“Your parents are meeting us there, right?” he asked.

“Yes. My father already booked a restaurant.”

“Fancy. Your family must really like making an impression.”

“My father does. There’s a difference.”

Jovian laughed as we headed outside.

“Come on, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”

I stopped beside my car and glared at him.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Absolutely.”

The drive to the hotel was mercifully short. My father had chosen one of the most expensive hotels in the city, which wasn’t surprising considering he was hosting Mr. Callahan, the president of a major professional hockey organization. He had spent months trying to arrange a meeting with the man, and I knew he intended to make the evening count.

What I hadn’t expected was the level of privacy he’d arranged.

When we arrived, a member of the hotel staff greeted us at the entrance , I gave her my name and escorted us past the main dining area. We continued down a quieter corridor until we reached a private section reserved exclusively for our dinner party.

My father hadn’t simply booked a table. He had reserved an entire area of the hotel restaurant, complete with private seating and staff assigned specifically to our group.

Of course he had. He's such a show off.

I spotted him waiting near the entrance to the private dining area. He stood when he saw us approach.

“Alaric.”

“Dad.”

His gaze shifted to Jovian, taking in his clothes before settling on his face.

“Mercer.”

“Sir.” Jovian offered his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

My father shook it firmly, studying him like he could tell what he was thinking.

“So, Mercer, my son tells us very little about his personal life.”

“That sounds like Alaric.”

I shot him a warning look.

Jovian smiled pleasantly. “He’s a private person. I respect that about him.”

I almost choked.

My mother clasped her hands together as we settled into our seats. “That’s lovely. You two must have a lot in common.”

“We do,” Jovian replied.

I looked at him. " We do ?"

He looked at me, smile and looked away.

Neither of us said another word.

Dinner began well enough. My father asked Jovian about his studies, his background, and his plans for the future. Jovian answered confidently without becoming disrespectful, and my father seemed to appreciate that he had ambitions beyond hockey.

He even managed to make my mother laugh twice before the food arrived.

When the conversation turned to our relationship, however, things became considerably more difficult.

“So how did you two get together?” my mother asked.

I reached for my water.

“We’ve known each other for a while,” I said.

“That’s not an answer,” she replied.

Jovian leaned forward. “Alaric was difficult to approach at first.”

“That hasn’t changed,” I muttered.

“But once you get to know him, he’s actually a sweet person.”

I looked at him suspiciously.

He continued without missing a beat. “He’s stubborn, controlling, and has a serious problem admitting when he’s wrong.”

My father frowned.

“Jovian,” I warned.

“But,” Jovian added smoothly, “he’s also dependable. When something matters to him, he gives it everything he’s got. That’s something I admire about him.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.

It was an unexpectedly convincing answer, especially considering how much of it had been delivered just to annoy me.

My mother looked delighted.

“You make such a lovely couple.”

I nearly dropped my fork.

My father merely nodded before returning to his meal, apparently satisfied with the conversation.

I was beginning to think we might survive the evening after all.

Then my mother put down her glass.

“You know, I have one small request.”

I didn't like the sound of that.

“What request?”

She smiled at Jovian, then at me.

“I haven’t seen you two show each other any affection all evening. If you’re really together, surely you can manage a little kiss?”

My entire body went rigid.

“Mom.”

“What? I’m your mother. I’m allowed to be curious.”

“There’s nothing to be curious about.”

Jovian turned toward me with an expression of innocent interest.

“She’s right, sweetheart. We have been rather distant tonight.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” I said between gritted teeth.

My mother laughed. “See? You’re behaving like an old married couple already.”

“Mom, please. Can we not do this?”

“Do what? Ask you to kiss your boyfriend?”

“Yes!”

My father looked up from his plate.

“Alaric, if you’re serious about this relationship, I don’t see why a simple kiss should be a problem. Just do it and make your mother happy.”

Of course he would agree with her.

I looked from one parent to the other, searching for a way out.

“We don’t need to prove anything to anyone,” I said. “This is a private relationship, and I don’t see why we should have to—”

Jovian’s hand settled on my shoulder.

I turned toward him.

His expression had changed. .

“Relax,” he murmured. “I’ve got this.”

“Mercer, don’t you dare—”

He caught the front of my jacket, pulled me toward him, and captured my lips between his.