Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Jason continued, “This is all a roundabout way of saying you can’t be my fake boyfriend. I’d ruin you.”
Owen hummed to himself. “Quite possibly. I shouldn’t . . .”
“You won’t.”
“I want to.”
Dark eyes hit his, and Jason’s heart sort of jumped. He wasn’t used to such constant kindness. Sure, he had friendly neighbours back home, but none who he felt could be . . . friends. Carl was a fool for avoiding Owen like he had.
He reached out and laid a hand over Owen’s. He was meant to insist that Owen shouldn’t do this, that he’d find someone else. But fingers twitched under his and the words were robbed from him. “Owen,” he whispered in a frantic effort not to give in, “I’d have to flirt with you in front of your friends. Alex.”
Owen started to reply, but Jason needed him to understand. “That means PDA.” He propped an elbow on the table, rested his chin in his hand, and looked past the flame at Owen swallowing down his response. “Little touches in public. Gazing at you with complete and utter adoration. It won’t come naturally, so on top of putting up with it in public, you’d have to coach me in private.”
“Coach you?” Disbelief.
“Exactly. See? Better I find someone else.”
Owen flipped his hand under Jason’s and the pocket of air between their palms thrummed, like his fingers did when he played—a magical stirring around his skin that slowly seeped into him, until it coursed head to toe. Fingers stroked over his palm. He shivered. “Yes, okay, I get it,” Jason murmured. “It’s not that you couldn’t do an excellent job of coaching, it’s just that . . . you know . . . how could I ever make it up you?”
“Jason, you—”
“Owen.” The call came from close by, and Owen visibly froze at the sound of the man’s voice. He didn’t immediately turn to face the slender figure who approached with a taller, dapper-looking gentleman at his side.
Jason eyed the pair. They wore suits the same shade of grey and matching glasses, thickly rimmed, ruby. The smiles on their faces had a plastic feel to them, particularly the one who’d called Owen’s name. Jason disliked him immediately—a gut response. The stiffness in Owen’s shoulders as he faced them doubled his dislike. Owen drawing his fingers away cemented it.
“Hayden.” Owen gave the taller one a cursory nod. “Kaden.”
Jason almost giggled. Hayden and Kaden? In matching outfits? Really?
Wait—Hayden? As in Hayden who had left him on moving day? The man Owen had fallen in love with at first sight? The reason Owen no longer believed in that? Heartbreaker, soul crusher Hayden? Suddenly giggling seemed a very far off prospect.
Hayden gestured to the free table next to theirs. “Last one.”
A glance around the restaurant proved that to be true. The remaining tables had filled up in the time Jason had been knocking knees with Owen.
Owen swallowed, Adam’s apple jutting. “I see.”
Hayden clapped a hand on Owen’s upper arm and Jason’s gaze narrowed to the squeeze pinching Owen’s shirt. “You and Carl?” A barking laugh that didn’t meet his eyes as he glanced at Jason. “I didn’t think you were interested in him beyond his ‘pretty face’. But all along, eh?”
Owen’s expression was cool—years of police training no doubt coming into play—but the tautness of the air said everything. Jason felt for him.
Owen glanced toward the growing crowd of couples looking for a seat and gestured toward the free table. “Incoming. You might want to claim your spot.”
Hayden hurried Kaden to their seats and fussed about with the table settings, while Jason tried to find a way to ask if Owen was okay without them overhearing. He caught Owen’s restless gaze and steered a foot between his. A little nudge of their ankles, a jolt of electricity up Jason’s calf—or maybe that was Owen’s slightly surprised shift—before he answered Jason’s question by nudging back.
Jason wanted to go back to the way it had been only moments before. Owen’s genuine ease and all those little grins twitching at his mouth.
Hayden conversed with Kaden like he wanted everyone to know how lucky he was. You’re incredible, Kaden. . . . Gosh, so smart, Kaden. . . . I love how talented you are, Kaden.
Owen kept his attention on Jason, but how he managed with all that . . . Jason was affronted on his behalf at the lack of tact. If Caroline had done that, he’d have been wishing the ground would suck him up whole.
“Excuse me,” Owen said, rising from his chair. “Men’s room.”
Jason hoped the cop would have a moment to punch a wall.
As soon as Owen was out of sight, Hayden waved a hand. Jason thought about ignoring it, but decided he wouldn’t play games. He’d act as maturely as he could in front of Owen’s ex.