I blame the heart monitor.
When I find myself at Florian Richter’s hospital bedside, I’m only there because Coach asked. The icy German defenseman has avoided me since the day he bolted from my massage table.
So when he wakes up with amnesia and assumes I’m his boyfriend? I attempt to correct him. Obviously. After all, he’s straight. Not that he’s been linked with anyone.
But then his heart monitor starts racing, nurses come running, and suddenly I’m telling everyone that yes, we’re absolutely together, and yes, I’ll take him home.
Now I’m fake dating a man who used to scurry away when he saw me. This Florian looks at me with adoration. This Florian announces to a crowd of paparazzi outside the hospital that I’m his boyfriend.
This Florian will get his memory back at any moment.
And when he does, he’ll remember he can’t stand me.