9. Hadley
Chapter nine
Hadley
Weston winces at my question, and I know it came out harsher than I meant it, but then again, he’s standing here telling me his agent knows about our fake engagement.
“I didn’t do anything, Hadley Jane.”
“What’s going on in here?” Holt asks, walking into the kitchen, Becca trailing behind him.
I cringe.
Great.
Wonderful.
I plaster on what I hope is a convincing smile. That’s all I seem to be doing these days.
“Weston here”—I point at him—“was telling me his agent congratulated him on his engagement.”
Holt sucks in a breath. I catch Becca’s eye, and I swear she looks as if she’s holding in a laugh. To her credit, she puts a hand on Holt’s arm and guides him into a chair.
“Breathe,” I hear her whisper, and I whirl around to face Weston, who is once again pacing the room.
“It’s not like I did it on purpose. Turns out someone at the party last night leaked pictures of us to, well, I don’t really know who, and now it’s all over the internet.
My agent called to tell me he’s had a few companies express interest in endorsing me now.
Apparently, all I needed to do was get engaged for them to come out of the woodwork.
” He throws up his hands. “Who the fuck knew?” He barks out a laugh, and my anger softens.
“Guess being a great hockey player isn’t enough.
” He roughly runs his hands through his hair.
“What if we kept up this ruse?” The words tumble out of my mouth, and someone, probably Holt, gasps behind me. Weston pauses, turns, and takes a few steps closer to me. “What more can it hurt? Besides, you helped me. Maybe I can help you.”
“Well, see, here’s the thing.” He rocks back on his heels.
“One of the companies wants both of us to appear in their photos for their winter line of pajamas.” I start to ask him what kind of pajamas, but he puts up a hand.
“John says it’s tasteful. I didn’t get all the details, but I can say no.
I’m sure the pay is going to be significant, or so I think, and of course I’ll split it with you. ”
“Well …”
Wait until I tell Callie this turn of events. I don’t know if she’s going to believe me. Scratch that, of course she’ll believe me. She’s Team Make It Real.
“Hads, this is crazy. Wes, what the hell are you thinking, man?” Holt says from behind me.
“This is between the two of them,” Becca murmurs. “We’re not going to interfere or give our opinions unless they ask for them.”
“If you’re game for it, I think we should at least hear what they have to say.
Not like I’m rushing out to date anyone.
We could pretend to still be engaged.” I shrug.
“Besides, what the hell else am I doing with my life? Now that my gig as a nanny is up, I don’t have anything to do except figure out my next job. ”
Weston studies me for a few seconds. “You’d have to come back to Orlando with me when I leave next week.”
“You can stay at the house,” Holt says.
“It would be suspicious if she wasn’t living with me,” Weston argues.
Holt groans but doesn’t say anything.
“It’s fine.” I sound calm and collected, but on the inside, my stomach is churning, and I’m trying not to panic.
I can’t live with Weston. That’s crazy. Even crazier is me pretending to be his fianceé and being in an advertisement, or on the company’s social media, or whatever it turns out to be, with him.
I repeat with him. But he said they were going to pay well, and I can’t turn that down.
Not when I still don’t have a job. What the hell is my life becoming?
“Okay. Good.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “We’ll figure out how we can break up after the summer is over, or whenever. I don’t know. Say we rushed into things.”
“What else?” I ask.
“This is a bad idea,” Holt says.
“Can you please leave?” I point toward the living room. “You made your opinions clear. We’ve heard you, and we’re choosing to ignore you.”
“Hadley—” Holt says.
“Don’t. Please. I’m a fucking adult,” I tell him. I turn my attention to Becca. “Please.” She gives me a small nod before standing up.
“Come on.” She gestures at Holt.
He blows out a breath but finally rises to his feet. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when this turns into a disaster.”
“Really, Holt?” Weston says from behind me. “That’s what you’re going with?”
Holt runs a hand down his face. “I don’t want either of you to get hurt or for me to lose either of you.”
What the hell does he think is going to happen? I furrow my brows.
“It’ll be fine,” I say.
Reluctantly, he follows Becca out of the room.
When Weston and I are finally alone, I turn around to face him, shocked at how close he is. We watch each other for a few seconds, neither of us saying anything. I rock back on my heels and finally break eye contact.
“Want a drink?” I move around him and pull a glass out of the cabinet.
He clears his throat. “Sure, I’ll take some water.”
I grab a second glass, get the pitcher of water out of the fridge, and pour us drinks.
I chug down half of mine before filling it up again, needing the cool water to calm me down.
A chair scrapes along the tile floor, and I know he’s taken a seat at the table.
I set his glass in front of him and sit down.
Once again, there’s silence, and I have the urge to fill it, but before I can ask him what else we have to talk about, he starts speaking.
“We’re really going to do this?”
I trace the condensation on my glass. “I’m game if you are.”
“I am.” He clears his throat. “Do we need rules? A safe word?”
I snort. “A safe word, Weston Alexander? Not like we’re having sex. Because we’re not.”
“Hadley Jane, that’s not my middle name. Fine, no safe word. You sure about the no sex thing?” He bounces his eyebrows at me.
I roll my eyes in response, grateful he’s managed to cut the tension.
“Yes, Weston. No sex. None. Come to think of it, neither of us should be having sex with other people while we’re fake engaged.”
“If you change your mind …” He smirks. “But I agree, no sex with other people.” He leans forward, bracing his hands on the table. “You’re going to wear a ring.”
What the fuck? This is fake. No need for rings. I wave him away.
“We’ll say my ring is getting sized. Or cleaned. Or both.”
“For months? Nope.” He pops the p. “That’s my rule. And you’re living with me.”
“I already said I’ll stay with you, but we’re not sharing a room.” I point at him. “You better have a guest room with a decent bed.”
He takes a drink of water.
“That can be arranged. What do you want from this agreement? I feel like that’s fair given what I’ll be getting.”
I’m silent for a minute. What do I want? I turn his question over in my head for a few beats before I finally have an answer.
“Let me photograph you on the ice.” He furrows his brows, and my heart races.
“I need more photographs for my portfolio. Let me take a few action shots of you playing hockey or running drills on the ice …” I frown because I haven’t actually thought this through.
I haven’t been able to take good pictures in weeks, and now I’m asking him to let me take photos of him. Am I insane?
“Deal. Anything else?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“If you think of anything else, we can talk about it. I’ll book you a ticket on my flight.”
I cross my arms, leaning back in the chair. “I can book my own ticket.”
“No. I. Will. Buy. My. Fiancée. Her. Plane. Ticket.”
“Fine. But I don’t sit in the middle,” I say, trying to lighten the mood because the way he growled that sentence would have me agreeing to anything he asked.
He chuckles. “We’re sitting in first class, babe.”
I cringe.
“What?”
“That nickname. I hate it.”
“What nickname do you want instead?”
“None,” I tell him, finishing my glass of water. “I think we’re good, right? We should probably tell my parents.”
“But everyone else needs to think it’s real. Even our friends back in Florida.”
“I already told my friend Callie. Well, I told her about us faking our engagement for Henry’s party. So she’ll know this isn’t true. But she won’t say anything.”
“Fine.”
“Since I told one of my friends, it feels fair that you get to tell one of yours.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, it’s all good. Holt knows. If I tell any of the others, it’ll get out to everyone.”
I chuckle because he’s right. The team loves to gossip. They’re a great bunch of guys who love their women and each other, but damn, do they love to talk. I swear you can’t tell one of them anything without the rest of them knowing within a day, sometimes a few hours.
“Fair enough,” I say. “How long are we staying fake engaged for?”
“The rest of the summer break, until the season starts? We can come up with a believable story about why we’re calling it off.”
“Okay.”
I grab my empty glass and take it over to the sink.
I hope like hell this isn’t a mistake that I’ll be regretting by the end.
Me and my fucking big mouth. Who would have thought it would get me into a mess like this—fake engaged to my brother’s best friend.
Actually … I take that back, because somewhere deep down, I knew it would one day.
I just hope I can come out of it without Weston hating me. I wonder if he’ll find the love of his life after our arrangement is over? The way the rest of my exes have.
I sneak a peek over my shoulder to see him furiously typing on his phone.
He deserves to find his one. Even if I don’t believe it’ll ever happen for me, I still hope it happens for others.