9. Chapter 9
nine
~ Beckett ~
N othing had been declared.
No commitments had been made.
Jasper and I hadn’t discussed the future or even settled on a label for what we were.
Yet, we had fallen into a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing.
We had spent almost every day together for the past two weeks, whether that meant at my place, his, or the center.
We had navigated three separate events, and the only difficulties had been keeping our hands to ourselves until the party ended.
In public, I still acted like the perfect date, attentive but with clear boundaries.
It hadn’t been easy, but I understood why it had to be that way.
For starters, I would be in breach of company policy, which could result in immediate termination.
I gave precisely zero fucks.
In fact, I had already decided to turn in my resignation.
I maintained a professional distance at these galas and fundraisers purely for Jasper’s benefit.
I had been working the circuit long enough, and with different clients, that most people knew me as a professional plus-one.
No one batted a fake eyelash at the fact.
The scandal it would cause if they found out Jasper Ryan was sleeping with his hired chaperone, however, would destroy not only his reputation, but his psyche as well.
“Okay, let me look at you.” Jasper stopped me in the lobby of the Berkshire Hotel with a hand to my arm.
I waited, letting him scan me with an expert eye.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Very handsome.” He straightened the knot on my tie and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from my shoulder.
“The ladies will be absolutely ravenous.”
I cringed internally.
He hadn’t said anything untrue, but I didn’t care what a bunch of professional husband hunters thought of me.
Only his opinion mattered.
Still, I loved how easily the compliments rolled off his tongue now.
I liked that he touched me without fear or hesitation.
He had come so far in such a short time, and I wouldn’t let anyone, or anything, destroy his newfound confidence.
Even if that meant spending the next few hours pretending I wasn’t completely gone for him.
I didn’t miss the irony of our situation, either.
After weeks of convincing Jasper he didn’t need to put on a performance every time he donned a tux, here I was, white knuckling my sanity while faking detachment.
“Are we staying at your place tonight?”
I glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one had wandered close enough to overhear.
“Of course. And I washed your favorite hoodie.”
When we stayed at my place, he always complained that I kept it too cold, especially at night.
So, I had let him raid my closet for a sweater, and nothing had been the same since.
Now, the moment he entered my apartment, he went straight to my room and changed into an old, tattered gray hoodie I had owned since college.
I had newer ones. Better ones.
Sweaters that hadn’t started to unravel at the seams. But he always chose that one, and he refused to tell me why.
Not that I questioned him too hard about it.
I liked seeing him in my clothes, and he wore that sweater so damn well.
I had a particular affinity for peeling him out of it at the end of the night, too.
“Mr. Shaw,” he said, a warning in his voice.
“I know that look.”
Blinking, I straightened and pasted on a charming smile.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Jasper chuckled and shook his head.
“Behave.”
Easier said than done when he looked like sin on a mission in his tailored tuxedo.
He’d gotten a haircut the previous week, then spiraled about it for three days.
Trimming the length had accentuated his curls, and the soft ends brushed the tops of his high cheekbones like a halo.
Long hair or short hair, it didn’t matter to me.
He was stunning regardless, but I did like the new look.
Tonight, he had added a bit of gel to give the tresses more structure, creating a polished veneer that tested my self-control.
Twice since we had arrived, I’d had to remind myself why reaching out to tuck the locks behind his ear would be a bad idea.
The one saving grace was that award dinners didn’t tend to last as long as donor events.
Plus, we would be seated most of the evening, and what happened beneath the tablecloth would be mine and Jasper’s secret.
I wouldn’t embarrass him—or let him embarrass himself—but I liked the idea of keeping him on the edge.
I wanted to tease him just enough so that by the time the closing speeches concluded, he would be feral and desperate to find somewhere private.
“Ready?” I winged my arm out to the side in offering.
“Let’s get this over with.”
He wound his arm around mine and nodded.
“Agreed.”
We made our way up a flight of curved stairs to a grand ballroom decorated in soft creams and bold reds.
Dozens of circular tables covered in crimson adorned the space, their tops laden with crystal flutes and gold place settings.
“I think that’s us over there.” Jasper pointed to a spot near the stage area.
“Number three.”
We made our way to the front of the room, smiling and nodding at other guests as we passed.
Reaching our table, we found it empty for the time being, and I took the opportunity to circle it, reading the place cards.
I didn’t recognize four of the names, and I had mixed emotions about the other two.
Rizza Carmichael had been seated to my right, which relieved me.
The person sitting to Jasper’s left, however, made me uneasy.
Elisa Doherty. I still remembered the way she had eyed him at the art exhibit, and I refused to spend the rest of the evening watching her paw at him.
Without even a hint of shame, I quietly rearranged the place cards, seating Elisa between the two other couples.
Hopefully, they hadn’t arrived as a group, and if they had, too bad.
From the look on Jasper’s face, he didn’t approve, but he didn’t try to stop me, either.
I laughed when he turned away as if he had just witnessed a crime and couldn’t decide if he should report it or not.
“Should we mingle?” I asked, motioning toward a group of familiar faces I knew wouldn’t overwhelm him.
“I suppose we should.”
Orchestral music created a quiet backdrop to the hum of conversation as we roamed the room, and the scent of freesia and lavender floated on the air.
Servers dressed in white tops with black vests bustled around the room with trays of champagne and finger foods, deftly toeing the line of being available yet unseen.
Though I could tell Jasper still didn’t enjoy the social parade, he seemed more relaxed than usual.
When he spotted Elisa in the crowd, he turned and backtracked without even a trace a guilt.
Now that was progress.
I liked to think my presence had something to do with it, but I also didn’t want to diminish his growth by claiming credit.
When the presenter announced that dinner would be served in twenty minutes, we started making our way back to the table.
We never made it more than a few feet before someone else stopped us.
Well, they stopped to talk to my date.
No one really noticed or cared that I was there, and that suited me just fine.
Until I heard a voice I knew all too well call Jasper’s name.
“Mr. Ryan?”
I tensed, instantly on guard, when Jasper’s face lit up like Christmas morning.
Then he released my arm and turned with a bright smile to greet his former plus-one.
“Nick! You’re looking well.”
Nicholas Coletti Quinton.
Jasper’s favorite +One agent.
The guy he’d been so distraught over losing.
It didn’t matter that I actually liked Nick.
I wouldn’t exactly consider him a friend, but we had always been on good terms. I didn’t even care that he was married now.
Telling myself my jealousy was petty and misplaced did nothing to quiet the storm building inside me, either.
Slender with a sun-kissed complexion and dimples that made him look like a cherub, Nick smiled with his whole body as he came to join us by the stage.
Holding a glass of champagne by the stem, he wore his wedding band on full display, yet I saw no sign of his husband.
“Me?” Nick chuckled.
“Look at you! I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Jasper laughed, easy and carefree, and I clenched my jaw so hard it cracked.
Then Nick’s gaze flittered to me, those deep brown eyes practically sparkling.
Anyone watching might have thought I was his favorite person in the world.
Not the case, and certainly not reciprocated.
“Beckett, I haven’t seen you in forever.” Glancing around first, he lowered his voice and leaned in a little closer as he wagged a finger between me and Jasper.
“I take it the new arrangement is working out?”
“We’re managing,” Jasper answered with another chuckle.
“Thank you for the recommendation.”
We were managing ?
What the actual fuck?
“That’s great. I knew you two would hit it off.” Nick’s eyes shifted again, his gaze raking over my date.
“You cut your hair.” He stepped right up to Jasper, only inches separating them, and pinched a strand of hair to tug it affectionately.
“It looks good on you.”
And Jasper let it happen with a smile on his face, and not one of those fake, uneasy ones, either.
“I’m so glad you think so. I was worried it looked stupid.”
Hadn’t I told him countless times how much I liked his new haircut?
Did my opinion carry so little weight?
“No, not at all. I like it.”
Clearing my throat to get Jasper’s attention, I bent so that I spoke next to his ear.
“I’m going to get a drink.”
I walked away before he could question me because, frankly, I had no idea what I would tell him.
I had enough self-awareness to know I was being an asshole, but not the capacity to do anything about it.
And I needed to get away before I said something I couldn’t take back.
I found the bar tucked into a corner on the other side of the room and ordered a double shot of whiskey.
The second the bartender placed it in front of me, I tossed it back, slammed the glass down on the counter, and requested another one.
I didn’t even remove my hand from the glass as he poured.
With the second shot halfway to my lips, a pale hand with long, elegant fingers landed on my wrist to stop me.
“What’s wrong?”
I glanced at Jasper from the corner of my eye and shook my head.
“Nothing.”
“Right. Try again. What’s going on?”
“It’s fine.” I brushed his hand off and downed the whiskey.
“I’m managing .”
“You’re…wait. That’s why you’re mad? Because of what I said to Nick?” He sounded genuinely confused.
“Did you want me to tell him we’re dating?”
“No. Maybe.” I sighed, hyper aware of our surroundings.
“We shouldn’t do this here.”
“I don’t give a damn where we are. Talk to me.”
Pushing away from the bar, I turned and stared at him.
Jasper didn’t curse.
Ever. While mild, that single word was enough to penetrate my bad mood.
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“No. We’ll talk about it now.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Elisa Doherty sashayed up to us, her scarlet lips pulled back in a calculating smile.
“Jasper, there you are!”
I couldn’t decide if I felt relieved or annoyed at the interruption, but as it turned out, it didn’t really matter.
Jasper spared her an irritated glance and shook his head.
“Not now.”
“Oh, but I haven’t seen you in weeks. I thought we were going to catch up.”
Jasper turned his head, his eyes sharp and his gaze piercing.
“Not. Now.”
Christ, this was getting out of control.
My chest swelled with pride that he had finally decided to enforce his boundaries.
At the same time, I recognized that if I didn’t get him out of there, he was going to end up committing social suicide, all because I couldn’t control my own emotions.
Grabbing his wrist, I marched past Elisa toward the balcony doors, dragging him with me.
“Come with me.”
The second-story balcony overlooked nothing more than a narrow side street, and between the heat and humidity, it felt like wading through lukewarm soup.
But at least we no longer had an audience.
“I’m sorry,” I said the instant the doors closed behind us.
“I’m an idiot.”
“Because of Nick?”
Even the sound of his name made me wince, but I nodded.
“Yeah, because of Nick.”
“Because I didn’t tell him we’re together?”
“That’s part of it,” I admitted.
“But I also get it. I know how it would look if people found out you’re dating your plus-one. I just—”
“Beckett.”
My name—my given name—on his lips silenced me instantly.
“I canceled our contract weeks ago. I thought you were the one who didn’t want people to know about us.”
Wait.
What?
“You didn’t think to maybe tell me about that?” I laughed as I leaned back against the railing, but it lacked any real humor.
“I thought the agency would have notified you.” He shuffled closer, his shiny wingtips scuffing over the concrete floor, and took my hands.
“Nick is a friend, nothing more. He was a lifeline for a long time, but I’ve never had any romantic interest in him.”
“I know.” I did, truly, but I hadn’t been thinking rationally.
“I just love you so damn much, and sometimes—”
“You love me?”
Fuck.
I hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but I sure as hell wouldn’t take it back.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Another self-deprecating chuckle fell from my lips.
“I’ve been half gone over you since you showed up in basketball shorts and called me Mr. Shaw.”
“Thank you.”
Okay, not the response I wanted, but I’d take it.
At least he hadn’t flat out rejected me.
Yet.
“For saying it first,” he continued, his mouth curving on one side.
“It makes it easier for me to say that I love you, too.” Leaning into me, he brushed his lips to mine and squeezed my hands.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. In my defense, though, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s kind of terrifying.”
“It’s absolutely terrifying.” Framing his face between my hands, I dipped my head and brought our mouths together, slow, tender, and filled with all the words I didn’t know how to say.
“You cussed.”
His lips pursed, and his eyebrows drew together.
“What?”
“Inside. You said you didn’t give a damn where we were.”
“Yes? And? I still stand by that.”
“I don’t like it.”
His laughter was so damn infectious, and I wanted to listen to it for the rest of our lives.
“Really? You don’t like that I said damn?”
I shook my head.
“It’s not you.”
“It’s just a habit so I don’t slip up around the kids. I’m not as innocent as you think I am.” Arching against me, he pressed his lips to my ear and lowered his voice.
“Sometimes, I even say fuck.”
“Jazz,” I growled in warning.
He laughed again and pulled away.
“Fuck,” he repeated, his eyes blazing with challenge.
“Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I had created a monster, and I couldn’t have been prouder.
“Wait until we get home.”
He stilled and cocked his head to the side.
“You know, that’s not really the threat you think it is.”
“Have you been drinking? You’re mouthy tonight.”
His laughter faded, and he returned to my side.
“No, I haven’t been drinking. I just feel safe with you.” Resting against my shoulder, he glanced at the closed doors and frowned as if he could see the party beyond.
“I don’t really want to be here.”
“Then don’t. We can leave right now if you want.”
We stood in the moonlight for a long time, breathing in the smells of the city, before he finally spoke again. “Take me home.”