Page 23 of Blue Line

“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.