Page 20 of Make Me Laugh

Fuck, that sound. It’s melodic and rich, echoing off the buildings and water.

I can’t help but step into her space and slowly cup her cheek. Her hand comes up to my wrist, and I think she might pull it away or slap me, but instead she presses her fingers into my pulse.

The rapid thudding of my heart jumps against her touch, and I trail my gaze up her tattooed arm, taking notes of every picture. An opossum and a raccoon drinking martinis. A rolling board with some kind of math equation. This sleeve is made up of patch work, each tattoo a different story. There’s no color, just shades of black and gray.

I have an assortment of dumb tattoos, but nothing as intricate as anything Joey has.

My eyes travel to the delicate ones faded into an old green-ish ink on her fingers, various shapes decorating her manicured hands. I’m a fucking goner when I meet her eyes. “I love the sound of your laugh.”

The flutter of her lashes catches my attention, the delicate freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks visible under the streetlight.

I swallow a gasp when Joey’s other hand rests on my hip. “Tell me something else about you. What’s your story?” I don’t want her to move. I want to stay in this moment forever, where I get to stare and watch the gears turn behind her eyes before she speaks. She thinks too much. I just met her, and I can tell she overanalyzes everything. “I’m just a hot comedian you’ll never see again. No need to worry if you overshare.” I hate that those words might be true.

Joey shakes her head, almost nuzzling into my hand before pulling away. “I’m just a girl with mommy and daddy issues who’s always wanted to prove everyone wrong… but now that I’ve done that, my life, even with all my careful planning, has still kind of imploded.” Her hand falls from my waist, and I begrudgingly let her put space between us.

I’ve never watched a woman struggle so badly with the decision to sleep with me. Is it something I want? Fucking, duh! But if it’s not something she comes to without my push, then I don’t. I need Joey to be the one to take the lead… For now, at least.

“Nothing in life can ever go exactly according to plan,” I tell her. Thinking about the life I was supposed to live compared to what I’m living now.

It was supposed to be the NHL rink, not a comedy stage.

The wind blows her long dark hair, throwing a piece of the blonde out of place. I follow her hand to her hair, taking note of the tattoos on her wrist as she runs it through the soft waves. Vines wrap around her forearm, traveling up to mix with the rest of the seamless design on this arm.

Fuck, I want to run my hands through her hair too. I want to hold it in my fist while she⁠—

“Oh, come on. Mr. Perfect All-American here.” She waves her hands up and down the length of my body. “I know your story. I think everyone does.”

I don’t blame her for having a prejudiced opinion of me based on what the internet says. I’ve done nothing to combat the spoiled fuckboy image I’ve given myself.

They see a guy from a decent family with enough money not to struggle and think they’ve got me all figured out. No one believes I’ve ever had to work hard for anything, that it was always easy… What they don’t know is I’ve never fought harder for the only two things that have ever made me feel alive: hockey and comedy.

Lucky for me, I’ve got enough fight left to prove Joey wrong.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE ONE WITH THE DEVIL ON HER SHOULDER

HanahJane99: Went to see @WestParkerComedy in Boston and watched the start of his and Joey baby’s love story instead SWOON!!!!

Comment: Holy shit they’re so hot!

Comment: WHO IS SHE?

I know what West’s doing. He’s waiting for me to make the first move. He wants to know it’s me making the decision to sleep with him, not the pressure of my best friend encouraging it.

And yet, all I keep thinking is, God, I wish he would just kiss me already!

If he initiates, then I won’t have to overthink it.

A small, devious smile spreads across West’s lips. I know he’s about to say something ridiculous. “Give me forty-eight hours to change your mind about me.”

Somehow, it’s more ridiculous than I thought it would be, but it does momentarily distract me from how badly I want to kiss him.

The sound of the water breaking against the seawall fills my pause. “What?” I ask finally, confused.

“I need someone to teach me the ins and outs of social media. You know the ins and outs. Come with me to Maine this weekend.” West says the last part exactly how I expect… With an edge of sexual energy. He clenches his fists, forearms flexing. I will myself to look away, trying not to stare at how absolutely delicious they are—it’s annoying forearms can be so attractive.

“That’s absurd." I roll my eyes.