Hat Trick (Fake Boyfriend 5)

“We’re waiting,” Matt says.

Jet lifts his head. “Huh?” His mouth is full of half-chewed food.

“Your tour?” Noah asks. “Concert dates, no time off, no rest for the famous. All your words.”

“Fiji must not get the news. Rest of Radioactive’s part of the tour has been canceled.”

“Why?” Matt asks.

Jet chews and swallows hard. “Well, it’s gonna be all over social media soon enough, so you may as well know now. I have nodes. Need to rest my voice.”

“What are nodes?” Maddox asks.

“Nodules. Lesions on my vocal cords.”

“Ouch,” Maddox says.

Something about Jet’s words doesn’t ring true to me. Or … completely true. Looking at him more closely, I notice the bags under his eyes, his skin is a little pale, and he has all the telltale signs of exhaustion, but it’s something in his brown eyes that tells me there’s more to the story. The usual spark in them is missing. There’s only one other time I’ve seen his eyes that lifeless, and it was when I’d serendipitously played a game in Tampa the same night his band was performing a few blocks away from the arena.

For two people who’d met and hooked up in New York, who both traveled for a living and had crazy schedules, I took it as a sign that I needed to go to his concert after the game.

Biggest mistake I’ve probably ever made.

I try not to think of that night in Tampa. I not only hurt Jet, but the fight that followed brought reality crashing down on us. Our one night in New York was random magic that fate let us temporarily share, but it wasn’t real. It was a fantasy. One perfect night with a perfect stranger who changed my life.

I’m brought out of the memory and thrust into a brotherly argument.

“I don’t need surgery to fix it,” Jet says, his exasperation sounding like that of a teenager’s. “I just need rest. I figured a Fijian vacation would be the best place to do that, but not if you’re gonna get all parent-y.”

Everyone at the table goes silent.

“No need to bite my head off,” Matt says. “I was just asking.”

Jet runs a hand over his face. “Sorry. I’m wrecked. Is there a room for me, or am I bunking on the floor of one of your rooms?”

Joni steps forward. “Ema is setting up a room for you now, sir.”

“You can take my room,” I find myself saying. Everyone looks at me weird. “It’s ready, and I haven’t unpacked yet. I only used the shower after we got in.”

Jet gives me a tight smile. “Thanks. I’m kinda dead on my feet.”

“No problem. I’ll walk you to it and grab my things while I’m there.” I go to stand when Joni puts his hand up to stop me.

“We can arrange that. I can walk Mr. Jay to the room.”

Nooo. There goes my chance of having a one-on-one conversation with Jet tonight.

As I watch them walk away, though, I realize that even if I had time with Jet alone, I wouldn’t have anything to say to him. I’m not sure if sorry would cut it. Because, let’s face it, I was a total ass to him the last time I saw him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Noah throw a bread roll at Maddox’s head.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Maddox has his phone in hand, and Damon’s reading over his shoulder.

“I thought we were going cell phone free,” Noah says.

“Yeah, but then Jet turned up spouting some bullshit about nodes.” Maddox goes back to looking at his phone. “‘Radioactive will be leaving the Heart tour following health concerns for lead singer Jay,’ but then it goes on to say there’s a rumored rift between Radioactive and Eleven.”

“Eleven?” Damon asks. “That boy band?”

“Radioactive has been opening for them for the past eighteen months,” Matt says. “His band was supposed to get their own headlining tour this year, but then they went out on a second tour with Eleven. Didn’t make much sense to me, but JJ says that happens.”

“Why are they called Eleven when there’s only five of them?” Noah asks.

My mouth, for some reason, thinks it’s a good idea to let everyone know the answer because it’s totally normal for a thirty-three-year-old guy to know random boy band facts. “They used to be 11OZ. As in eleven ounces—the weight of the human heart.” My brain finally catches up and forces my mouth shut, but it’s too late. I prepare for the inevitable ribbing about knowing the origin of a boy band’s name. The reason I know it? They’re a part of Jet’s life and I’m not. I may or may not have been secretly checking up on him for the past few years.

Everyone blinks at me a few times but must decide to let it go.

Matt turns to Maddox. “You’re gonna believe a tabloid? Remember when they claimed I was a manwhoring alcoholic?”