“Have you ever been hit by Anton Hayes? I’d rather my ass take the beating, thank you very much.”
I laugh.
Ezra sighs. “I’ve missed you … in a totally platonic way. I’m not here to get between you and your boyfriend. I’m truly happy for you. I just miss my friend. I know I messed up, and if I have to apologize a million times for things to go back to how they used to be—minus the sex—I’ll do it.”
I take a sip of my coffee. “And this sucking up has nothing to do with needing a place to hide out until you get over the shame of sleeping with Anton Hayes?”
“Okay, it might have something to do with that too, but it’s only because the incident made me realize that whenever this shit would happen in the past, you were the one by my side.”
“You’re my best friend, Ez. Nothing will ever change that.”
He looks relieved. “Okay, now, important talk. Jasper is—”
“Still not going to have a threesome with you.”
“Worth a shot.”
Jasper is mine, damn it.
30
Jasper
Ezra being here doesn’t change anything.
At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself.
But after the third night of staying at West’s, I’m starting to get annoyed. We went through the whole process of easing me into the kids’ lives, then here’s Ezra, who showed up out of the blue and was welcome with open arms. I get that they know him already, but what happened to that need for stability?
Ezra is anything but stable.
He’s crashing on the couch, and with the house already full, plus the two of us, things are getting way too crowded. And he doesn’t stop flirting. With me, with West, with Kole. The only one he keeps his distance from is Asher, which is probably for the best since I swear Asher looks murderous when he’s around.
Those are the reasons his general presence annoys me.
Those and nothing else.
No other reasons.
Definitely not the one where West used to have feelings for the guy.
By the fourth night, I can’t handle the thought of waking up and finding Ezra in the kitchen, so I reluctantly sleep at home. I have no idea when he’s leaving, but neither he or West seem in a hurry to make that happen. He says he needs somewhere to hide out, but a guy like Ezra Palaszczuk could literally hide out anywhere. I mean, aren’t there places specifically designed for celebrities to disappear to? Why can’t he go there?
Whiny boyfriend is whiny.
I sigh and check my hair in the mirror.
It hasn’t escaped my notice that West clearly has a type. Light brown hair, pale blue eyes, tall and muscular. We don’t look all that much alike outside of that, but it’s making me have thoughts I don’t want to be having. Thoughts that are making me feel like a consolation prize.
It’s not something West would do, and I know I’m only feeling this way because of the ridiculous levels my feelings have reached, but I can’t help it. They have history I’m not a part of, which leaves me unsure of where I stand.
I need to ask West if there’s anything still there—for him or Ezra—but even considering it makes my gut hollow.
God damn it. I’m not going to let this beat me. I’m not that insecure kid, feeling threatened by hockey players.
What West and I have is real.
Ezra’s taking us both out for dinner tonight, like some kind of messed-up third-wheel situation. I’m not sure what his plan is, but if it’s to make me feel inferior, it’s not going to work. I don’t care how fancy the restaurant is.
Except, I do. I really do. And I hate myself for it.
West has lived that life. He’s done the rich boy, party animal, manwhore thing. In theory, I know he’s past it, but I can’t stop the fear of losing him from kicking in.
I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I didn’t feel like anything was missing, but damn, West barged into my life and showed me all the ways I was wrong.
I take far longer than normal getting ready because even though Ezra is getting on my nerves … I also want him to like me. So much for not needing anyone’s acceptance. I console myself with the reminder that this isn’t some high school grudge from twenty years ago. Regardless of their history, they’re still best friends and I need the best friend to approve of me.
But if the best friend is trying to get back in West’s pants, all bets are off.
I’ll break his pretty face.
How’s that for personal growth?
The low hum of an engine alerts me to their arrival, and I’m expecting the car horn to follow, but a moment later, there’s a knock on the door.
Shit.
I glance around, anxiously making sure my house is in order, hoping Ezra isn’t about to invite himself inside.