“Hey! How was your day?” Maddie calls.

“Awesome! I’m being evicted.” I follow the amazing smell of Italian spices leading me into the kitchen. I wasn’t planning on telling Maddie because my original plan was to be in Prague before the date I had to be out of my apartment. Everything changed when we declared our love. I don’t want to leave Maddie any earlier than I have to, but the demolition deadline looms near, and I need to find a place for a few months.

“What?” She’s at the stove, stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce, with an apron tied around her tiny waist. It’s so 1950’s, but in a super-sexy way that sends all the blood to my dick. She glances at me over her shoulder. “Why?”

“My building is being bulldozed to make room for a new development—an outdoor mall or something.” I move closer, hoping she’ll offer me a taste of the sauce, but also because I like being near her. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head after her shenanigans this afternoon at her parents’ house. “That looks good.”

She beams. “Want a taste?”

I groan and nip at her neck. “Yes.”

Maddie laughs. Then she holds one hand under the spoon as she brings it to my lips. I blow on it gently before tasting.

“That is phenomenal!” I exclaim. “Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“A Southern woman with any worth knows how to cook.”

I laugh, not expecting such a stereotypical thing to come out of her mouth. But when I look up at her, she’s got her a hand on her hip and a wooden spoon raised. “Oh, you weren’t kidding.”

“My mama raised me right, Erik. I am a college-educated executive, who knows how to set a table, dance a waltz, and fix a dinner for my family.”

“Simmer down, sexy. I love all of those things about you. I’m getting used to the Southern-belle pride.”

Her perfect pink lips turn up in a sexy smile, but she doesn’t respond with a trademark snappy comeback. “Why don’t you move in here?”

The suggestion catches me off guard, and I take a step back. “I don’t know. That seems—"

Maddie spins around, so we’re nose to nose. “I love you. You love me. You need a place to live. What’s the problem?”

“We know this is real, but your parents don’t.” I look into her eyes. “What do you think they’ll say?”

“We don’t have to tell them.”

“I’m sick of lying, Maddie.”

“Well then, we can tell them.” She laughs. “I’ll follow your lead. I’m proud to be with you. I don’t care if they know it’s real.”

I smile, hoping she doesn’t see through how empty it is. I know I’m being frustrating, but I haven’t told her I’m moving, no matter what. I can’t break her heart right now. I took the demolition of my building as a sign. Time’s up. Get out, Erik. Go back to where you came from. It was the kick in the ass I needed to get my plan together. Then love happened, and I can’t bear to tell Maddie.

“Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes. Why don’t you go pick a movie?”

I kiss her once more before shuffling to the couch. The best thing about her condo is the open floor plan. You can see and talk to each other from all rooms—except the bedrooms and bathroom.

“What are we watching?” Maddie asks, craning her neck to see the screen before reaching into the cupboard to retrieve two dinner plates. She sets the dishes on the counter and turns back to the stove.

“The Mighty Ducks.”

“Are you joking?”

“You need to know me, Maddie. Really know me. If an interviewer ever asks what my favorite movies are, you gotta know how much I love these cheesy-ass movies.”

“I can’t believe we’re spending a Friday night binging on children’s movies.”

“I love hockey. These were the movies of our childhood. I started playing hockey because I wanted to be a Duck. Not in Anaheim,” I explain, pointing at the screen. “I wanted to be on this team.”

“So, you wanted to be an actor?” Maddie ladles spaghetti sauce onto a mountain of noodles. The heaping plate must be for me because there’s no way she could eat all of that.

“No, I wanted to be an extra.” I laugh. “They seemed like cool kids. I wanted to be their friends.”

Maddie looks up from plating our meals. “That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m pretty good at hockey. Maybe my real dad is an uber-famous hockey player in the Czech Republic.”

“You never know, sugar.” When she leans down to set the plate in front of me, she drops a kiss onto my lips. “Did you play when you were younger?”

“Thank you,” I say, watching her grab her plate off the counter and carry it to the coffee table. She sits on the floor next to me. “Yeah, I played for years when I was a kid. I had to stop when I started working.”

“Awww.” Maddie pats my arm, then takes a bite of garlic bread.

“I wasn’t good enough to make a higher-level team, so it was no big deal. I still play pick-up games. I’m in an adult league on Tuesday nights.”

“You are?”

All I can do is nod, since I’ve stuffed my mouth with spaghetti after speaking.

“I’ve never seen a hockey game before,” she says softly, as if I’m going to laugh or be angry. It’s not surprising. Hockey is not a Southern sports staple. “Can I come watch you play sometime?”

“I’d love that.” I wipe sauce off my lips before pressing them onto her cheek. I point to my plate with my fork. “This is phenomenal, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

After dinner, we curl up on the couch to watch the movie. Maddie asks a million questions about hockey, and I love it. I love that she’s interested in my hobbies and what makes me happy. I love that she’s proud to be with me, and that it was her decision to tell her parents about us.

All of those things give me hope. Hope that when I tell her I have to leave, she’ll understand it’s because I want to spend the rest of my life with her without repercussions of a fake marriage—no matter how real it would be. I hope she understands I’m doing this for us.