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“I’m just a cheer coach… no one knows that I can even afford a bodyguard, let alone why I would need one. People are going to want to know why I have a bodyguard. I don’t want to scare my students.”
Jasper nods in understanding. “It’s no one’s business how much money you have or don’t have. So don’t worry about that. I can understand not wanting to scare your students,” he says, pausing as if he’s carefully considering his words. “We could always treat this as an undercover job.”
I look at him with confusion shining through. “What do you mean, undercover?”
His eyes flare with heat. “I could be your boyfriend,” he growls lowly.
My eyes widen, and I let out a quiet gasp. My heart pounds in my chest and my panties practically melt off my body at the look he’s giving me. Did I think we had chemistry? What we have is more like a nuclear reaction. One growled sentence and I’m ready to melt into a puddle at his feet.
“D-do you think we can pull that off?” I stutter.
He smirks at me. “Sweetheart, I think people will wonder how we aren’t together.”
“What about our friends? Won’t that be… awkward?”
Darlene would be freaking ecstatic, thinking she’s matched up another couple. Can I lie to her like that? Surely I could tell her the truth. I mean, Ransom already knows I’ve hired Jasper…
“They will be happy for us.”
His words are simple and yet oh so complicated.
“But what about when the threat has passed?”
He shrugs. “Then we have an amicable breakup.”
“Oh…” Tears sting my eyes, but I brush that feeling of sadness back. Why the hell should I care about a fake relationship ending before it’s even begun. “Yeah, that makes sense.” I force myself to respond even though it makes me feel sick.
I don’t want a fake relationship. I want something real. One of the things I promised myself when I moved was that I would keep my mind open to the possibility of finding a romantic connection. I want what Darlene has. What Mel has. I want love and forever. How will I find that if I’m faking it with Jasper?
I won’t.
I think through the other options, and I come up with none. Having him pretend to be my boyfriend seems like the best and most straightforward explanation for him being around me all the time. Especially for my students.
The problem with this whole plan is that I’m not a good actor. I don’t think I can fake being a girlfriend. Especially not with a man I’m so attracted to. This whole thing reeks of heartache, but what choice do I have?
I nod my head. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
His lips turn up in a wolfish grin, and I already have regrets.
I shake myself out of those negative thoughts. No. I can do this. I will do this. I will pretend to be Jasper’s girlfriend, and he will protect me and figure out who is out to get me. Once I’m safe, we will part ways as friends, and everything will be okay.
I repeat that in my mind half a dozen times, trying to get myself to actually believe it.
We finish dinner and to my surprise, Jasper helps me with the dishes. It’s a very domestic moment and one I could easily get used to. Once again, I squash that direction of thinking because it leaves me wanting things that I definitely shouldn’t be craving with my very fake boyfriend.
“Thanks for the help.”
“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do after you cooked such a fantastic meal.”
I find myself blushing at his praise and liking the fact that, for once, I didn’t just cook a meal for one. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in any kind of relationship, and I didn’t realize how lonely my solitary life had gotten until this very moment.
“Come with me and I’ll show you to the guest room.”
I lead him down the hallway to the only other room with a bed. “Here it is.” I look around the plain room, trying to see it through a stranger’s eyes. Simple queen-sized bed—probably not even big enough for a man the size of Jasper—a small dresser and a nightstand. “Sorry, it’s not much. I haven’t had time to really decorate since I moved in. At least the linens are clean.”
He puts his hand on my lower back and leans in close. “It’s great, princess,” he murmurs in my ear.
My hackles are up again at him calling my princess again, but the heat of his palm and the low rumble of his voice in my ear take the sting out of the word. I don’t know why that name bothers me so much coming from him, but it does. I don’t want him to see me as a spoiled princess. I want him to see me for who I really am.
