Page 26

Chapter 26

Jessie

I moved into my own room. Finally.

My bed was really mine, and honestly, it gave me some space from Mikey. If I’d stayed in his room while he was gone, I’d just have been surrounded by reminders of him.

He, who was really nice to me when he didn’t need to be. He, who I’d embarrassed myself with before he left. He, who got me coffee and breakfast anyway.

With him gone, the reality of how absurd my life had become settled in. It was too much. I really needed to start plotting my exit.

I honestly will never know what all happened Friday night after the game. I remember talking to Kitty. I remember dancing. I have some flashes of Mikey helping me in the bathroom, telling me to eat. After that, nothing. I woke up in his t-shirt that carried his delicious scent.

Kissing Mikey. Like, really kissing him. Not for show. He told me I was his and I couldn’t tell if he was faking or being real. I wanted it to be real, so I pretended it was.

But the thing is, he kissed me back just as hard. If we’d been at home and sober, there’s no way that wouldn’t have ended with us in bed together. Or on the kitchen counter. Or on the living room floor. Or one of the twenty-nine places I had little flash fantasies of us getting it on.

I had to get a grip.

I was still reeling from Cole cheating on me for God knows how long. And yeah, that was over, but I was in a fragile place. I couldn’t just be flitting around pretending to be a professional hockey player’s girlfriend.

Even if that professional hockey player was kinda dreamy. And sweet. And protective. And yeah, loud.

He texted me Monday to make sure I recovered from my hangover (I had, thank you). He sent me a picture of a stray cat and asked if maybe that could be our ocelot pet. I found a prop cat on set and sent him that as a counteroffer.

But as much fun as we had together, he was also someone who didn’t take relationships seriously. He didn’t do relationships. Relationships were stale, and Mikey had to keep it fresh.

I got a nasty reminder of his need to keep it fresh Monday night. There was a knock at the door, which I found weird. Only people from our building could get in, and Cole was the only other person I knew in the building.

I opened to a stunning blonde woman in an open trench coat and some very fancy lingerie.

“Um, can I help you?” I asked, trying not to laugh in my surprise.

“Who are you?” she asked.

What the hell? “I’m sorry, what are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for Mikey.” My stomach dropped as she narrowed her eyes at me, taking in my sweats and messy hair. “Are you his cleaning lady or something?”

“No. Is there something I can do for you?”

She tried to walk past me into the apartment. I put my arm across the doorway to stop her. “I don’t think so, missy. This is my apartment. How did you get in the building?”

“Where is he? And who are you?”

“He’s on the road. And I’m his girlfriend.” I crossed my arms over my chest. I was his fake girlfriend, but she didn’t need to know that. This woman couldn’t just barge into my living space.

“HA! Mikey doesn’t do girlfriends.”

Not the first time I’d heard that. “If you were truly diligent, you’d have known he was on the road.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and pulled her trench closed. “Whatever. Tell him Hannah came by.”

I gave a weak smile. “Hannah, I’d suggest you leave before I call the building’s security.”

She scoffed and turned toward the elevator, muttering a “bitch” as she went.

I sat with the TV on, too rattled to pay attention. Was I wrong to tell her that I was his girlfriend? Did I just ruin something for Mikey? Probably not, right? It’s true, if she had been talking to him she’d have known he was gone. Maybe just some stalker?

A stalker with a real hot body. A hot body that looked nothing like mine. She was toned and firm in all the places that I was soft.

She was the second of Ben’s “type” I’d met. Busty blondes with tight little bodies. I had the busty thing going, but not the blonde, and certainly not the gym physique. Any muscle I had was from crouching and standing at my job, plus sewing and knitting.

Ben was on Eastern time, so I didn’t want to bother him late. I’d tell him the next day. It made me sad to think of Ben talking to other women while we were in our fake arrangement. Was he kissing other women? He had a right to take care of his physical needs, I supposed. But somehow the thought of Ben cheating on our fake relationship hurt worse than Cole cheating on me after four years. He’d built up so much trust with me, saying he’d never treat me bad. This felt pretty damn bad, though.

But he had chosen me publicly, right? I was the “ideal girlfriend,” his words, not mine. That had to mean something. I’d been wearing his shirt to sleep, but suddenly that didn’t seem so appealing. His scent had been comforting to me while he was gone, but now it just seemed sour.

Almost as sour as the gross smell starting to emanate through our apartment. Almost like rotten seafood.

* * *

“What the fuck did you do?”

My phone rang at work around 8:30 a.m. Tuesday. Cole was on a rampage. I happened to have a spare second, so I made the mistake of answering.

“Excuse me? I’m at work, Cole.”

“It smells like shit in here,” he bit out. “I know you and your stupid little boyfriend had something to do with it.”

“You’re going to have to fill me in,” I said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I found the tuna can in the kitchen, Jessalyn,” he hissed. “But that’s not all of it. Where did you hide the rest?”

“What tuna can? Why would I have anything to do with a tuna can?”

“You’re the only weirdo I know who likes fucking tuna salad! Who else would have put an open fucking tuna can on top of my kitchen cabinets, Jessalyn?” he raged. He rarely called me Jessalyn. I was pretty sure he’d just heard Mikey calling me by my full name through the walls, which made me even happier. I had to bite back laughter. Whoever did it was a genius.

“Well, maybe one of the women you cheated with decided it was time to pay you back.”

“Oh, whatever, you little puck bunny. Hope you’re enjoying the jock’s diseased cock.”

I hung up right then. He didn’t deserve another second of my time. Brilliant as it was, I didn’t do the tuna can stunt. I didn’t need to take his abuse. If anything, finding out he’d been cheating made it easier to move on. He went from being a vanilla human in my mind to being an actual menace.

But it still hurt. And what I really wanted was a hug from Mikey. Mikey, who left me flowers and a “hang in there” card with a picture of a kitten hanging on a screen door. Mikey, who washed my car, gassed it up, and got me a garage pass.

Oh, fuck. Mikey’d had my keys Saturday morning. It totally could have been him.

Why did that somehow excite me to think he’d commit light vandalism on my behalf?

Commit any petty crimes lately?

Benjamin Michael Jockey

Not that I’m aware of officer

Do I need to step out of the vehicle?

Seems kinda “fishy” that you had my keys Saturday morning

Only to treat my favorite roomie to a few things

Like vandalism?

Jessie, you know everything I did

So you’re confessing?

I’m entitled to an attorney

And a 5 minute phone call

My phone buzzed in my hand as his call came in.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sweet Cheeks. Miss me yet?”

I chuckled, picking up a pair of football pants I was working on. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing he didn’t have coming.”

“Ben, he just called me in a rage. He thinks it was me.”

“Give me his number. I’ll set his ass straight,” Mikey fumed. “He doesn’t get to talk to you like that, Jessie.”

“Well, he did, so he thinks he does.”

“He’s lucky I’m not in town right now,” he said through clearly gritted teeth.

I sighed. “Mikey, leave him alone. I appreciate you sticking up for me, and yes, it’s funny. But let me handle him, okay?”

He huffed. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

“It is. How’s... where are you today?”

“Tampa. It’d be more fun if I had my fun roomie with me.”

I couldn’t help but grin when he did shit like that. I never imagined I’d be friends with someone who was so all over the place: sweet as honey, big bear protective, but also with big soft emotions. “What would we do together if I was there?”

“Go to the beach, of course,” he said without hesitation. “I’d make you play beach volleyball and get popsicles from a popsicle guy and drink beach beers.”

“You know we live by the beach, right?” I said, tucking my phone to my shoulder so I could get back to work while talking.

“Then I guess we’ll have to go when I come home, huh?”

My smile leaked into my response as my stomach fluttered. This was bad. I hated how smitten I was with his attention and affection. The flutter turned to a nauseating churn when I remembered the guest appearance I’d had the night before. “Maybe. Um, someone came by for you last night, by the way.”

“Oh, God. Was it Hannah?”

I furrowed my brow. “How did you know?”

He sighed. “Not her first rodeo. She shows up every now and then when she decides she’ll try to bag me again.”

“How does she get in?”

“Honestly, I think she shows the security guard her tits. She wouldn’t be above it. She’s not well, Jess. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“I, uh, told her I was your girlfriend. Hope that’s okay.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s perfect. Thank you. Maybe she’ll finally go away.”

“So I didn’t ruin your shot of getting back together with her?”

“Absolutely not. I was never with her to begin with. I blocked her number a long time ago. I’m really sorry she showed up. You should have called me.”

“It was late. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Always bother me, hon. I don’t want anyone making you feel uncomfortable in your own home. I’ll talk to the building management when I get home. She can’t keep getting in like that.” My heart warmed a little at that. “I hate to do this after all that, but I wanted to ask you a favor. Since you’re the best girlfriend ever.”

“Oh, God, what?”

“I’ve got this benefit thing on Friday when I get back. Since you don’t have to work the next day, would you be my date?”

I pricked myself with a needle on the garment I was sewing. “Date?”

“Yeah. You know. Dancing. Drinking. Merriment. Hors d’oeuvres. Handshaking and shit. Kitty’ll be there, if that helps.”

“And I have to be your fake girlfriend again?”

He lowered his voice. “Well, according to these people, you’re my real girlfriend. I realized I can’t tell the team you’re fake without them leaking it to their wives. Guy knows, but that’s it.”

I sat, blinking rapidly and analyzing how I felt about it. My stomach jumped. Being Mikey’s date! But being Mikey’s fake date. But maybe that’s all we could ever be. “I’m gonna need more tacos and queso to deal with this.”

“I’ll be home late Wednesday night. Can I take you out Thursday night?”

“I’ll accept that. What do I have to wear for this benefit thing?”

“How about I have a few things sent over? What’s your size?” he asked. “I just guessed on the Princes stuff. Let me put you on speaker so I can write this down.”

“Mikey! I’m not just announcing my size over speakerphone for whoever is with you to hear! Besides, I do what I do for two reasons, and they are my right and left boob.”

The line went silent. “Mikey, are you alive?”

He coughed. “Yep. Yep. I just didn’t know what to say about your boobs without getting myself into trouble.”

“It’s okay, Ben. I know they’re big.” It’s true. My body is what it is. I learned to work with it as soon as my boobs made their presence known in middle school. The straight and narrow clothes for girls my age just weren’t working for my body type and I refused to wear baggy clothes. So, I learned to sew.

You could say puberty really changed my life, more than most people’s. My boobs ended up choosing my career path, and I’m not in sex work. As such, I’m very comfortable with that part of my body and talking about it. If I don’t talk about it, someone else will behind my back.

“So, you became a seamstress so you could make clothes for your boobs?”

“Pretty much. Nothing ever fit growing up, so I learned to tailor my own clothes.”

“Remember what I said about you not backing down from challenges, Sweet Cheeks? This is just another example.”

“Are you calling my boobs a challenge?” I teased, knowing I was making him uncomfortable and kind of loving it. Our roles were reversed for once.

He let out a choked sound that made me cackle. “It’s challenging for me to have this discussion. The event is formal. If you want me to have somebody send you some dresses, I will. Or pick out whatever you want and tailor it, I don’t care. I left a credit card in the silverware drawer just in case.”

“Yeah I saw that. You really must trust me, Jockey. I’ll find out what Kitty’s wearing and adjust. Anyway, I have to get back to work. They’re about to change scenes and I need to tape somebody’s hem.”

“Alright. Have a good day, Sweet Cheeks.”

“You, too.”

I was about to end the call when I heard his voice again. “Oh, and Jessie?”

“Make it quick, Jockey!”

He paused. “I kinda miss you.”

I sighed, a little tingle passing through me. “I kinda miss you, too.”