Final Play (Fake Boyfriend 6)

She grunts.

“Do you, umm, I don’t know, have like candles and shit?”

She cocks her head. “Candles?”

“I’m trying to make a big grand gesture, and candlelight is, like, romantic? Or something?”

Now she’s glaring. “And you think waking me up to be romantic is important, because …”

I lower my voice even though Jet wouldn’t be able to hear anyway. “Because this is the biggest grand gesture I’ll ever make in my entire life?”

Hint, hint.

Her eyes widen. “Oh my God, this is so awesome.” She throws her arms around me. “Welcome to the family. Like properly. Even though you’re already one of us. But this is like … official!”

“Thanks, but shh, he has no idea. So, umm, candles?”

“I’m happy for you guys, truly, but what makes you think I have all that stuff?”

“You’re a girl.”

“Pfft. She ain’t that type of girl.” Benji appears, handing me four giant candles. “Here.”

I can’t help laughing.

“I’ll leave you two to go back to sleep.” I hold up the candles. “Thanks for this.”

“Wait, I have more.” He pulls out a plastic bag from his closet, but instead of giving it to me, he follows me downstairs.

Watching this big, burly Aussie guy place tealight candles delicately around the deck is adorable.

He senses me watching him. “Chicks dig romance.”

I chuckle. “Thanks for helping.”

“Anytime. This is a massive step.”

I nod. “It is, but I’m ready for it. I don’t ever want to live without him.”

Benji smiles wide. “I’m happy it only took you a few years to pull your head out of your ass, mate.”

Yeah, yeah. I did the stupidest thing four years ago when I thought Jet needed to go and be young and live his life.

It’s not the first time that I’ve wondered what would have been had we tried to make it work back then, but Jet was only twenty. The experiences he’s had since then make him the man he is today, and I wouldn’t ever want to take that away from him.

I’d take back the hurt I caused him and the anguish that made him write two multi-platinum songs. But then he wouldn’t be as famous as he is.

We almost get all the candles lit when Benji tells me to go get Jet and he’ll light the last few, then make himself scarce.

“Thanks, Benji.”

“Anything for Jet.”

It’s weird when his bandmates call him by his real name and not his stage name Jay. They’ve gotten used to the name change over the years, and so he’s always Jay to them. But Benji using Jet’s name now means he understands how monumental this moment is.

Then Benji gets a weird glimmer in his eyes. “I know you all think Freya and I are nothing but drama, but there’s no doubt in my mind she’s it for me. When you know, you know.”

I nod. It’s true. We often wonder how they will work when they constantly fight, but it’s how they’ve always been and how they probably always will be. They’re not abusive toward each other or anything. They just love getting riled up and yelling at each other followed by angry sex.

It works for them.

“When you know, you know,” I repeat.

I know Jet is the one for me.

There’s no room in my heart for anyone else when he owns it wholly and completely.

Unfortunately, something else has my man’s heart, and as I make my way back upstairs to get him, I realize my fatal mistake.

Sleep. Jet needs sleep.

We’ve been on tour for months. We just had a full day filming, and he ran into Harley which always leaves him drained. Tomorrow we fly to Chicago to celebrate Jackie’s birthday, and then two days later we’re off to see my parents in Toronto before flying to London to start the European leg of his tour.

He’s exhausted, and he only managed to pull his pants underneath his ass so his cute butt is sticking out.

There’s lube on the bed, the cap off, but I doubt he used it before falling asleep.

I sigh and head back down to Benji.

He’s hunched over, lighting some tealight candles on the floor. “Wait, wait,” he says. “It’s not ready!”

I wait for him to finish, and when he moves away, I see he has spelled out “I love you” in tealights.

“Aww, I love you too, but you can blow it out,” I say.

He turns to me. “What’s wrong?”

“Poor guy is passed out.”

“Then wake him up!”

I laugh. “I’m not going to propose to a pissed-off Jet. You know what he’s like if he’s woken up.”

“Oh. True.”

Before we can extinguish any of the flames, we flinch at the croaky voice behind us. “Propose?”

I turn to find Jet standing in the doorway, his pants securely back on but a confused look on his face.

No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go!

“I … uh …”

“I’m out.” Benji makes a run for it, but as he passes Jet, he pats him on the back.