4. Wes
Chapter four
Wes
I am so absolutely fucked.
Absolutely and completely fucked.
I was going to agree to whatever favor Hadley asked me for because she’s her, and I don’t know if I could ever say no to her. But I was not expecting it to be that. It does give me an excuse to spend time with her, pretend she’s mine, even if it’s only for one night. I’ll take whatever I can get.
The rest of the night passes in a blur. We ate dinner. It was good. At least I assume it was, Momma A’s food always is. We had dessert. I think I had dessert. I don’t actually know. We played a card game, but don’t ask me what or who won because I have zero idea.
I was too distracted by what Hadley asked me, no, what she practically begged me to do—be her fake fiancé.
And I had to force myself not to say yes the second she asked.
Not to suggest that maybe we make it not fake.
But I couldn’t say that. Holt would kill me.
I’m not good enough for her. So instead, I’ll pretend to be her fiancé.
Now, I’m sipping a beer on the Abbott’s back porch, the last person left awake. At least I assume I’m the last one awake. When the house got quiet, I crept out of my room, down the stairs, and outside.
“What are you doing out here?”
I choke on my drink, turning around toward the house as Hadley steps out the sliding glass door looking like a fucking vision in a pair of navy-blue sweatpants and an oversized, faded Storm shirt, her blonde hair in a ponytail.
A ponytail I’m imagining wrapping my hand around and tugging on as she sucks my cock.
Fuck’s sake.
Why the hell am I so horny?
I need to get laid.
I can’t remember the last time I had sex. Usually that doesn’t bother me because I’m so busy with hockey, but apparently, now that the season is done, my sex drive is ramping up. Except all I want is her. And she is one hundred percent off limits.
“What are you doing out here?” she repeats, sitting down on the chair next to me.
I shrug, taking a sip of my drink and staring out into the backyard. “Relaxing and enjoying a beer. It’s a nice night.” I peek over at her.
She puts her legs up on the seat and wraps her arms around them. “I used to hate that it was still chilly this time of year. But now, after spending time in Orlando, I appreciate the cooler weather.”
“Agreed.”
She sighs, and I hold out my beer bottle to her.
She glances between it and me before tentatively taking it and raising it to her lips.
She swallows, then her tongue peeks out and swipes along her lips, getting rid of all traces of the beer.
And I can’t stop staring. I know I should, but I can’t. Finally, she hands me back my drink.
“Thanks.”
I stay silent, letting her lead the conversation.
“I’m sorry if you felt ambushed earlier and like you couldn’t say no. I wanted to talk to you alone without everyone around, but of course, Holt can’t let anything go.”
“Now I know where you get it from.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Get what from?”
“Your meddling.”
She scoffs. “Pot. Meet kettle.”
I chuckle. “Touché. But it’s fine. You needed help. I can help.”
She pinches her brows together. “Why are you being so agreeable?”
I jerk backward, turning fully to study her. “What do you mean?”
Why am I being so agreeable? What the hell does that mean? I know we banter and tease, but I thought that was our relationship. Flirting without actually flirting. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help her if she asked. And she asked. So I’m helping.
She flaps her hand around. “You’re always poking at me. Calling me Hadley Jane.” She deepens her voice, I guess to mimic me, and I can’t help the snort that escapes me. “Never thought you’d agree to help me so easily.”
“I told you that you owe me a favor now.”
“I know. But …” She shrugs. “Still expected you to make it harder on me. I’ve always assumed you saw me as the annoying younger sister.”
“That is not at all how I see you. I’m sorry.
” I wince. “I thought that was what we did. You’re always calling me Weston and some random middle name.
Banter. I’m sorry. I feel like an asshole.
It was never my intention for you to think I didn’t like you.
Holt’s one of my best friends. I would never intentionally want to make his sister think I didn’t like her.
” I blow out a breath. “Hell, even if you weren’t his sister, I would never want to make you feel bad. ”
“Okay. Well, I’m glad then. And there’s nothing to apologize for.”
“Maybe not. But since we’re clearing the air, you always seem annoyed to see me, like at Christmas last year at your brother’s. Why is that?”
Holt invited me over after he found out I was planning to sit at home alone.
His parents were in town because he’d just found out about Hazel a few months prior.
He and Becca weren’t together yet, although I do remember we ran into her and her parents in the hallway, and we all ended up spending time together.
But I remember the scowl Hadley turned my way when I showed up.
Her shoulders fall slightly, and I hold out my beer for her. She takes it, staring out into the distance. I sit patiently, waiting to see what she’s going to say. This conversation feels monumental, and I am not going to rush it. She takes a drink.
“It wasn’t—isn’t—you. I was mostly annoyed because you’re always so happy-go-lucky, and I’m not, well, especially not then.
I felt as if I was having a quarter-life crisis.
” She lets out a hollow-sounding laugh. “Then you show up, and you’re all you.
” She waves the beer bottle around. “I don’t know how you do it. ”
“Do what?”
“How you’re always in a good mood.”
I shake my head. “I’m not. I’m human too.”
“No shit. But seriously, how do you do it?”
“I don’t know. I just do. Life’s too short to waste it being in a bad mood, but I have off days and weeks. I try to take them in stride. To make the best of the shit situations. At least when I can.”
“That’s very deep.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I haven’t always been the nicest to you. Something about you brings out my sass.”
“Ya think?”
“Just admit that you enjoy it.”
I chuckle. “I don’t not enjoy it, and there’s nothing to apologize for,” I repeat her words back to her because they’re true.
“It hurt a lot to see Henry happy and engaged. Not that I’m still in love with him, or ever was.
” She frowns. “Every guy I date, the next woman he dates is the one he gets engaged to. It was hard to see today.” She pauses.
“Maybe because I just came back from being surrounded by all the happy couples. My brother. Mads. Aubs.” I start to tell her there are plenty of single guys on the team, including me, but she shakes her head, and I remain quiet.
She stares up at the night sky, and when she speaks again, it’s so soft I have to lean closer to hear.
“I feel cursed. Like I’m doomed to be alone and am never going to be good enough for someone to want me permanently.
” Her words gut me, and I suck in a breath.
She turns toward me, and I swear she has tears in her eyes.
I ball my hands up to keep from brushing them away.
“So I got a little carried away and told my ex I was engaged. I’m sorry if I put you in a weird position.
I can make an excuse for why my fiancé isn’t around. ”
“Hadley.” My voice comes out gruff, and I clear my throat. “I said I’d be your fake fiancé. Whatever you need from me.”
She takes another sip of beer before saying, “We’ll have to act as though we’re in love. Can you do that, Reynolds?”
“I think I can, Abbott. We’ve established that we don’t dislike each other.
Pretending we’re in love won’t be that hard.
” At least I know it won’t be for me. My fear is I’ll overdo it, and she’ll realize I really like her.
Or worse, Holt will find out I have a crush to end all crushes on his little sister, and he’ll be pissed.
“Now, are you going to share that?” I tip my chin toward the bottle in her hand. “Or do I need to get another one?”
She clutches it to her chest. “This is mine now.”
With a shake of my head, I push my chair away from the table and get to my feet.
“Wait, I was kidding. You can have some.” She holds it out to me.
I grin. “If my fiancée wants to steal my beer, I’ll just go get another one.”
I swear I see her shiver, but I can’t be sure if it’s from my words or the temperature.
I force myself to turn and go into the house, not stay and ask her. I need a minute to collect myself, anyway, before I do or say something I’ll regret. Something like Let’s make this real? Or Will you go out with me?