Final Play (Fake Boyfriend 6)

The label just puts so much pressure on him, and I don’t know why or how he puts up with it.

I wish for him to find someone so he can be as happy as I am with Soren.

Someone who isn’t famous.

Someone who takes him for who he is and appreciates his work ethic and drive.

Someone who supports him.

He deserves happiness even if the industry we’re in is adamant in making him choose between career and love.

He needs to find that person who makes him question the worthiness of his music compared to what he could have if he let go.

“Well, that was fun,” Soren says sarcastically.

“I get the feeling all of our future dealings with him will be like that.”

“Can’t wait.”

Even though he mocks it, I know he holds no ill feelings toward Harley. He doesn’t need to, because he knows I’m his.

I’ll be his forever if that’s what he wants.

All he has to do is ask.

Chapter Twenty-Three

SOREN

I can’t believe I blurted a marriage proposal during a video shoot. What I can’t believe even more is that the director yelled cut right at that same moment. I’m both thankful and regretful for the interruption. While I’m happy Jet didn’t hear me properly and I get a chance at a do-over, part of me wishes he had known what I said. At least then I wouldn’t have this itching need to put it out there again.

I hadn’t planned on asking him. We’ve only been together a year, and we haven’t even discussed it. But like any time Jet’s that close to me, he consumes my every thought and I get lost in the moment. It’s easy to lose focus when Jet’s around.

And today, all I wanted to do was show him how much I belong with him.

I want him to stare at a ring on his finger and know he’s loved, know he’s not alone, and know he’s mine.

But this is something that needs to be done right. I shouldn’t blurt it out in a room full of strangers and his ex-boyfriend. It should be perfect.

No pressure, Soren.

When we get back to the mansion we’re currently sharing with Benji and Freya—Jet’s bandmates—we make our way to our bedroom.

Jet’s hands are wandering, and his lips move all over my neck and chest.

I want to let go and enjoy it, but I have shit to plan, damn it. And I need to do it now before I go blurting it out again at the wrong moment.

“Baby?”

Jet pulls back. “What’s wrong?”

“I just remembered Freya wanted to talk to me about something when we got home.”

He frowns. “What?”

“I don’t know. Benji maybe? You know them. Drama, drama, drama.”

“Ugh. Tell me about it. It’s only gotten worse since they ran off to a chapel in Vegas and tied the knot. Now they’re stuck with each other for life. Or until they get divorced. One or the other.”

I pause, and my heart thunders. “I-is that what you think of marriage?”

“Doomed to be stuck together forever or end in a bitter argument? Pretty much.” Jet purses his lips. “Actually, no. I take that back. I’ve seen how good it can be. Like with Matt and Noah. Marriage as a whole is kinda an outdated construct. It started because of ownership, for fuck’s sake. And not in the way you say you own me. More like in the ‘You get no choice’ way. So thinking about it in those terms, it makes me ask, ‘Why bother,’ but then I see Matt and Noah and think, ‘Yeah, they’re doing it right.’” He glances at me. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

I pull him close and kiss the tip of his nose. “I love your rambling.” Especially because I want to promise him the type of marriage he believes in. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Can’t you talk to her in the morning? It’s late, and I need your cock.”

I groan. There is no way I can get through fucking him without proposing. “You can have it. Right after I talk to Freya. Why don’t you go and get ready for me?”

Jet smirks. “Hurry up. Tell her to forgive Benji for whatever he’s done now and come to bed.”

My vision more includes telling Benji and Freya not to come downstairs so he can tackle me as soon as I propose and ride me right there on the back deck. We can’t let all the prepping he’s about to do go to waste.

Jet heads inside our room while I make my way to the other end of the house where Benji and Freya live.

I knock on Benji’s door, because they mostly sleep in there. Seeing as Freya didn’t actually ask me to talk to her, I assume she’s with him and they’re not actually fighting. “Freya?”

No response.

I try again but louder.

Movement inside the room sounds, and then a half-asleep Freya appears, her hair wild, one eye open.