19. THE ONE WHERE HE MAKES HER LAUGH
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE ONE WHERE HE MAKES HER LAUGH
Comment reply to @HexHeroine’s latest video: As a Hex fan who had no idea who West was until the video, I hope she’s doing okay…
Comment reply: Hex not posting the last couple days makes me so sad. I look forward to her stuff every day!
Comment reply: At least she’s getting the attention she wants finally, right? Flaunting herself all over the internet might finally pay off!
Comment reply: I bet you’re so fun at parties, you crusty crabby-ass bitch.
Enzo eventually wanders in and goes to bed, walking quietly past the bunks where I’m curled up in a blanket that smells too much like West.
Anytime I start to doze off, phantom hands graze my skin, sinking lower and lower until they feel too real, and then I’m wide awake again—tossing and turning, wondering where West is and why he hasn’t come to bed in the bunk above me yet.
Too afraid to fall back asleep with the smell of West all around me, I give up and tiptoe through the camper, sneaking down the stairs and closing the door as quietly as I can. I’m met with a sight I wasn’t expecting to see, and it makes me pause.
West is sprawled out on a giant lawn blanket, staring up at the starless sky. I think he might be asleep until he raises his arm and points north. “You should be able to see The Big Dipper somewhere around there, but it’s too bright.”
I come to a stop at the edge of the blanket, not fighting the soft smile pulling at the corner of my lips. “Are you still high?” I ask, wrapping my arms around myself at the chill in the air.
West shakes his head, not moving from his spot on the ground. “No, I’m just enjoying the view.” The way he stares at me makes it clear he’s not talking about the night sky anymore. “Hey, about earlier—”
I cut him off, shaking my head. “It’s okay. We were buzzed. Not like it’ll happen again…” The words taste awful leaving my mouth.
He almost looks like he’s going to argue, but instead, he takes a deep breath, sits up, and nods. “Yeah, definitely.”
I’m hours away from leaving and part of me, if not most of me, doesn’t want it to end.
That scares me more than anything.
While most of my time was spent actually working, there were moments in between where I found myself genuinely enjoying what I was doing, moments where I was having fun without caring whether I deserved it or not.
“Want to see some of the stuff I got this weekend?” I ask, staring down at his crisp blue eyes.
West nods enthusiastically, patting the spot beside him. I plop down, crisscrossing my legs to get comfy.
My sleep pants are at least one size too big, and so is my old college T-shirt. Frankie’s the one with the matching pajama sets without extra holes, not me.
Comfort over cuteness for bed every single time.
I open the folder I created on my phone for this weekend’s content and start at the beginning.
West leans in, his arm brushing against mine. The gentle touch is enough to heat my skin. I pull up the first finished video and let it play, hoping it will be the distraction I need to ignore the urge to curl up against West’s side… for warmth.
It takes me almost the entire folder to stop thinking of him pressed behind me, how badly I wanted to finish my sentence and beg him to bend me over the table and fuck me until I came.
West’s real laugh makes me smile, peeking over at him as he watches a video on my phone. “Man, you made the venue look huge.”
“All about the angles, baby,” I say with sarcastic overconfidence.
He meets my eyes, but then I watch as they drop to my lips for probably the hundredth time this weekend—good to know he thinks about kissing me as much as I do him.
A silence falls between us, and it begs me to fill it. The job I was paid for might be rolling to an end, but sleeping with West again? It would do nothing but cause trouble.
West is dangerous to me, a threat to my normal, always planned… boring life.
“I had a really great time, by the way.” I finally answer his question from earlier, drawing his attention back to my eyes. “Getting to know West Isakson.”
His smile is sweet, softening all his edges. It isn’t the enthusiastic one he gives the world. It’s small and genuine, his cute little dimples making him look every bit of the twenty-five-year-old he is.
God, twenty-fucking-five. The seven years between us feels giant right now.
“You know,” West starts, looking back at my phone.
“All these pictures and videos, but not a single one of us.” He swipes to the camera, shooting me a serious stare.
“Will you please smile? I want my mom to believe you actually like me.” He flips the phone around to use the back camera, cheeses really big, and snaps the picture before I can wipe the sneer from my face.
“Kidding. This one’s just for me.” He winks.
I push his shoulder with a short laugh. “You wasted your one photo to get that.” I point at the picture but pause when he zooms in closer on our faces.
Oh, it’s actually kind of cute. Fuck, it’s really cute.
We’re cute… together.
His goofy smile looks natural, and I don’t look as mean as I intended. My eyes sparkle and there’s a playful scrunch to my nose.
West fucking Isakson is stealing my edge.
He swipes up, opens my messages, and sends himself the picture. I don’t object, watching him do it. “For my spank bank.”
“Don’t make me kill you.” I hopefully give him a real scowl this time and snatch my phone out of his hands.
West chuckles, shaking his head as I lean back on my elbows and stare up at the sky.
We sit in a comfortable silence I don’t feel the need to fill this time, the sound of a passing car and the rattle of its muffler fading as it speeds down the road.
When I leave here tomorrow, I have a new life to figure out. I officially become a jobless thirty-one-year-old who over ten-million people have witnessed getting doxxed as Hex, the internet’s favorite masked book influencer—their title, not mine.
I’ve been saying this since Friday night, but… just one more night. I can ignore my problems for one more night. “What’s your story, West?” I surprise myself by asking.
He turns his head, resting his chin on his shoulder. He stares off, like he’s thinking about what he’s going to say—for probably the first time in his entire life…
“I’m just the class clown from a small town in Michigan without a backup plan who got really fucking lucky to get a second chance.” He smirks, dragging his eyes to meet mine.
I search his face for the answers I need, knowing I won’t find them there.
I want to ask him so many questions, dive underneath the surface and find out just how wrong I was about this guy…
but instead, I ask, “can you send some of that luck my way? My backup plan was porn, but now people know who I really am, even behind a mask, so I guess it’s back to the drawing board. ”
West seems to have a hard time swallowing, focusing on not choking on his tongue.
“You okay?” I ask, furrowing my brows.
“Mhmm.” He doesn’t sound convincing. “I’m not picturing you naked as Hex right now. Why would you think that?”
“Now those are the pictures you want for your spank bank.” I stretch my legs out, and before I can do anything stupid, I hop up and reach my arms over my head.
“You mean you have them already or you’ll send me some when you get home tomorrow?” West stares up at me, headed in a direction that would end in explosions and fires, and all-around not good stuff.
There’s never been a reason to have nude Hex pictures, but suddenly I can imagine the look on West’s face when he’s the first to get one…
The thought triggers the logical part of my brain back to life.
I sigh. “I should go to bed.” The sunrise is a few hours away, and I have a train to catch at 10:00 a.m. “Don’t fall asleep out here.
Those cougars from the club probably know how to sniff out a lonely cub. ”
We need space between us, so I turn before he has time to reply.
I hear his shoes hit the parking lot’s asphalt. “Joey, wait.” He grabs me by the wrist, gently bringing me to a stop.
I turn to find him… nervous?
West flexes his free hand a couple times, taking a sharp inhale before he lets my hand go. “What if I can be your backup plan?”
My what?
Whatever look I make must give away the thoughts in my head, because West’s speaking again like I responded out loud.
“I mean, what if I pay you for the rest of the tour to run my social media?” He asks the question with such seriousness, I realize instantly he’s not kidding. “I started reading some of the comments tonight… People want to see us together.”
“I—”
“Can’t,” he finishes for me. “That’s what you were going to say, right? That you can’t?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “You can. You’ve shown me and everyone here this weekend that you can. You’re afraid, and that’s okay, but what do you have to lose?”
His words douse my fire with cold water, turning it into smoke and steam. I try to find the words… but I’m not even sure what to say—because he’s right.
I can do it, but I’m more than afraid. I’m fucking terrified.
There’s nothing I can lose from it. I have nothing to lose from it.
“It’s only two months. You can look for jobs in the meantime, line something up for when you get back to Boston.” He pushes the idea so smoothly. “They’re already calling us Mommy and Daddy, Joey. This doesn’t just go away when you get home tomorrow.”
I shake my head, not giving myself time to think about the truth behind his words. “It won’t work, West. You and I”—I motion between us—“barely made it forty-eight hours.”
He wags his finger. “No, no. We didn’t do anything. The contract said nothing about hugs.” He squints. “I don’t think…”
I can’t help my laugh. “Is that what that was? A hug?”
“A hug from a friend,” West says casually.
I stare at him, slightly annoyed at how goddamn handsome he is. Why would anyone want to be just friends with him? “Four adults in that tiny camper for two months is impossible.” I move on to my next excuse.
“We only stay in it overnight if the venue’s small and we don’t make a ton on ticket sales.
” It seems he's thought of every excuse I have. “Enzo almost doubled my shows through the end of the tour tonight. We’ll have thousands of more tickets going on sale this week.” West raises his eyebrow, as if he’s challenging me to come up with another reason I shouldn’t take his offer.
“Then you can splurge and hire someone who actually manages social media accounts,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Who do you think’s crazy enough to join three grown men they don’t know on tour and share a camper with them?
” West asks, pointing directly at me. “Plus, this was Enzo’s idea and if you don’t say yes, he’s not going to let me hire someone random.
I’ll be forced to do it, and all that hard work you did this weekend will be a waste… ”
I’m pretty sure he’s purposely sticking his lip out a little bit.
“It was Enzo’s idea?” I ask, surprised.
West nods, some excitement returning to his face. “It’s his way of saying he was wrong about you, probably. He’s a good dude, but he doesn’t say he’s sorry often. Everyone has flaws.”
The two of them being best friends still throws me off, but I’m sure people think that about me and Frankie too.
I want to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and run away from my problems on a bus with a hot stand-up comedian for a couple months. I want to be careless and maybe a little reckless, to do before thinking. I want to pretend like I don’t care about what comes next.
But I do.
I’m almost thirty-two years old, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do next, because I, the over planner, somehow was too cocky to have a real backup plan for my unrealistic expectations.
My life hasn’t felt this chaotic since my mom left me with Grams and never came back. I can’t become what she expects me to be.
“It’s too messy. I can’t add more onto an already broken plate.” The words gut me. I barely know this fucking guy, and yet somehow, it hurts to watch him hide his disappointment. “I have a life to clean up.”
He looks down and his shoulders fall with a defeated breath. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry. I… guess I’m just not ready to see ya go yet.”
West is going to make someone a very happy woman one day. The thought makes me feel warm and fuzzy.
“You’ll forget about me before long. People always do.
” I didn’t mean for it to come out sad, but I can feel the tightening in my throat.
I swallow it down and fake a smile, a tiny laugh breaking the tension.
“You did what you set out to do. You made me, the girl from Witch City, laugh.” I can’t help myself.
I reach out and squeeze his arm, trying not to focus on the perfectly sculpted bicep in my hand.
“You’re going to get everything you want and probably more.
” My arm falls to my side, and I instantly want to touch him again. “I’m rooting for you, Hotshot.”
I have to take a step back. I have to go to bed.
I have to get away from West.
He’s going to make me cave if he keeps looking at me like I’m ripping his heart out.
Seriously, Jo, he’s fine. He’ll be fine.
“Goodnight, West.” This time when I turn to leave, he doesn’t stop me.