Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Which was another thing I’d never wanted with a man, before. I was starting to think I was delirious.
“Um, what does ‘I ship them’ mean?” I asked him.
Charlie cleared his throat. “It means they think we’re… in a relationship.”
I nodded once, looking back up at him. “And the producers are pissed about this?”
Charlie lifted his eyebrows. “The producers? Oh, hell, no. They’re overjoyed. This kind of gossip fuels a shit ton of interaction on all our social media pages. It’s buzz, as far as they’re concerned, and they’d tell me to milk it for all it’s worth. But I’m worried about you more than them. Do you feel okay?”
“Me?” I said meekly, a thousand thoughts surging through my mind.
I feel like my whole body is on fire.
I feel like I need a cold shower.
I feel like I suddenly can’t speak when I make eye contact with you.
“You okay, Jax?”
I cleared my throat. “I’m good. It’s no biggie. They, uh, just think you like me, or something?”
He gave me a pointed glance. “They think you’re my boyfriend, Jax.”
I tried to play it cool, grabbing a rag and wiping the bar top even though it didn’t need to be cleaned.
“Your boyfriend,” I repeated.
“They have no idea you’re straight,” he said. “They have no idea who you are, at all.”
All at once, something clicked in my head.
They didn’t know who I was. A bunch of strangers on the internet assumed that Charlie and I were interested in each other, and it was actually creating really good buzz for his TV show.
A satisfying warmth spread through me—not like the searing hot, embarrassing heat that I’d had around Charlie for the last day, but instead, something that started to make sense. Something easier.
“I’m really sorry, Jax,” he said, looking at me like he thought he was hurting me.
“What?” I protested. “No. Fuck no. If they think we’re into each other… go ahead and let them. Right?”
Charlie was like a stunned animal.
For the past 24 hours, I’d felt like I was in freefall. And now, finally, it was as if I’d been given a parachute.
I didn’t have to think about my own confusing-as-hell emotions. I could just do what I did best: help out a friend when they needed it most. If Charlie’s fans wanted to think that we were together, I could make that happen.
Easily.
I could pretend.
Charlie looked at me like I was nuts. “You do realize that these people have no clue you’re straight, right?”
I shrugged. “Fuck it.” I could tell he still didn’t believe me. “Look, it doesn’t bother me if they think you’re my boyfriend,” I said. “We could ham it up for them. Tease it out on TV. Give them something to chat about.”
I was getting hard again as I said it, thinking about the possibility of pretending to date Charlie. I didn’t know what it would entail, and to be honest, I didn’t really care. I’d do anything to help him. And playing the role would be easy, knowing it was giving his show a great publicity boost.
Charlie nervously thumbed a knot on the wooden bartop. “This is going to get you a lot of attention that you might not want, you know,” he said.
“Who says I don’t want it?” I teased him, suddenly feeling bolder, knowing that nothing had to be serious.
“This is insane,” he said, but there was excitement in his eyes.
“I’m one of seven siblings in my family,” I told him. “I’ve told you this before. I grew up with an empty fuel tank of attention. A little bit won’t hurt me.”
“Even if it’s people thinking you’re my boyfriend?” he asked, dubious.
I waved him off. “Come on. Being your boyfriend would be so easy.”
He smiled for real, now—his slightly lopsided, infinitely fucking charming smile. The smile I’d been addicted to for months now.
“I hate you so much,” he murmured, a little glimmer in his eyes as they reflected the white string lights hung up behind the bar.
“Hate you more,” I said affectionately.
“Easy? Being my boyfriend? I beg to differ.”
“You’re wrong as hell, and I’d love to be your boyfriend.”
My cock throbbed just from saying it.
Fuck, maybe I needed to join an acting group or something, if it excited me this much to pretend.
Charlie was looking at me like I was a wonder of the world. “You actually are down to do this, aren’t you?”
“Quit asking. Let me be your boyfriend,” I teased him. “I already said yes.”
His eyes went a little dreamy as I said it, and satisfaction curled through my chest.
Oh yeah. That made it all worth it.
“If you want to stop, you say the word,” he told me, his tone serious suddenly. “Okay? If we’re really going to do this, you get to be in control of it.”
“So, what do we do first?” I asked.
Charlie rubbed his forearm, his fingers brushing over the big sparrow tattoo there. “Are you free this Saturday?”