“Wow.” He whistles. “You were a man slut.”
“Just what in the hell did you google? My stats and hockey career should’ve been top result.”
“I googled Westly Dalton man slut.”
“Fucking smartass,” I mumble but can’t help grinning.
“You’re the one who’s proud of that fact.”
“Not proud, just making sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I’ve managed to hold back from throwing myself at you this far. I think we’ll be okay.”
It’s hard to switch off and not think about home, but Jasper’s making it that tiny bit easier by openly mocking me.
“Oh no,” he says. “My boyfriend is one of those famous assholes who posts shirtless selfies all over Instagram.”
“Huh?”
He shoves his phone in my face, and I glance at it briefly before focusing back on the road. In the photo, I’m shirtless, my hair is a mess, and I’m squinting at the camera looking hungover because I was.
I laugh. “Ah, good times.”
Then Jasper says the one thing that can bring my mood back down. “Do you miss it?”
Do I miss having a carefree life where I’d do nothing but play hockey all day and party all night?
“Every fucking day.”
10
Jasper
Something about West makes it easy to relax, and the three-hour drive to New Hampshire goes faster than I anticipated. Asking him if he missed hockey was way out of line and too personal for what this is, and I’m not surprised it made West go silent.
Thankfully, all it took was us stopping for a burger to turn his mood around.
I’ve booked us a room at the only hotel my small hometown of Wilson has and thankfully lucked into one with two queen beds. I would have preferred separate rooms, but if anyone else has come in from out of town and notices us parting ways, it’ll make the boyfriend thing hard to believe.
And after googling him, I’m sure people will notice West. I can only assume I’ve been living under a rock not to have seen half of what there is out there about him. From what I can tell, he and Ezra made the tabloids together a lot.
I still can’t believe I’m going through with this.
If I’d known the level of famous West actually was, there’s no way I would have.
Now, somehow, I need to convince almost a hundred people that I’m on the same level as him. It’s almost laughable. There’s no way this will work.
It’s awkward enough changing into our suits in the same room. I refuse to look over at him because seeing his muscular body practically naked might be too much to handle on top of everything.
How are we supposed to be boyfriends if I can’t even look at him?
“You okay?” West asks.
I turn to find him tying his tie, and fuck, that suit he’s wearing should be illegal. It’s so tight and blue, and damn, it makes his green eyes pop.
“Huh?” I let out.
“Are you okay?” he repeats.
“If second-guessing this whole thing is okay, then yeah, I’m fine.” I rub my face and hear him chuckle softly. “Maybe we should head home instead.”
“No way. You promised me a night out.”
“I’m concerned you’re overestimating how much fun this will be.”
“As long as there’s alcohol and strippers, I’ll be happy.”
I frown. “And now you’re thinking of a bachelor party.”
“Relax, I’m joking.” He stalks close enough to grab my shoulders, and with only a few inches between us, every inhale is filled with the cologne he’s wearing. It makes me feel a bit off-center. “Tonight will probably be lame, but who cares? That’s not the point. We’re going to show up, prove to everyone how in love we are, and rub your life in all their faces.”
“You’re oddly invested in this.”
“I—” He releases me suddenly and steps back, hand finding his neck. “I can’t help comparing your story to Hazel’s, and everything that you’ve told me about them makes me want to do this for you, and in a weird way, her as well.”
“You don’t think I’m pathetic?”
“The opposite, actually.” His eyes meet mine, and a blaze of heat hits my gut. “I think this is fucking brave.”
I let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t know what has possessed me.”
“Awesomeness?”
“I think we both know it’s not that.”
West gives me an odd look but doesn’t say anything as he shrugs into his suit jacket.
I check the time and tense up when I realize we should probably leave, but I’m still not convinced this isn’t going to completely backfire.
“Are you good to go?” he asks. “Or do you need to freak out first?”
I try to hide my hesitance and pick up my own jacket. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I’m not sure at all. My heartbeat is elevated at the total scam I’m trying to pull off on people who know exactly how uncool I am. I might be able to change my outside appearance, but internally, I’ll always be that nerdy kid. West doesn’t see that because I haven’t let myself slip around him, and after a few hours together, it’s getting exhausting.