Hat Trick (Fake Boyfriend, #5)

by Eden Finley

“We kinda, sorta, might’ve, maybe hooked up three years ago and never told you guys,” Jet says. “And now we have this second chance, so we’re taking it.” A relieved whoosh leaves me. For a second there, I thought he was going to tell them that it will be just for show. “Three years …” Matt says. “Three years and neither of you thought to say anything? Didn’t think to say anything the other morning when I went to you and said, hey, Jet has a thing for you?” Jet glares at his brother. “Oh, thanks for that by the way. There’s nothing like big bro telling someone you’re sleeping with that you’ve got a ‘crush.’” “You told him?” Matt booms at me. “I was there,” Jet yells back. “Awkward,” Maddox sings.

“And now you’re together?” Noah asks. “Well, no, but we’re … dating?” Jet says and looks up at me. It’s not how I’d describe it, but it’s not like serious boyfriend fits either. “I guess that’s the closest description.” “They’re so fucking,” Maddox says. Damon puts a hand across his boyfriend’s mouth. Thank God. “Stop trying to get the man killed.” “Killed?” Matt leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his wide chest. “Not gonna kill anyone.” His voice is high-pitched and kind of scary. “Why would I need to kill anyone for keeping a secret for three fucking years?” “That’s why you’re mad?” Ollie asks. “I thought it’d be that Soren’s sticking it to your little brother.” I lean into Jet. “When do we leave for the tour? In the next six seconds might be a good idea.”

In a selfish world, voices get drowned out by everyone trying to out-woe each other.

“I don’t want to live this lie.” “Should’ve thought of that before you proposed publicly in front of billions of people,” I say. “The whole world has seen it by now.” “I don’t think that’s helping, Jet,” Soren says in my ear. “What, you want to help him?” I ask incredulously. “Does he look like someone who’s doing this to spite you? Or to piss you off? He’s clearly hurting.” Harley whines. “Damn it. Why’d your boyfriend have to be nice?” “He’s Canadian. He can’t help it.” “Sorry.” Soren shrugs.