Jock Comes Through

My so-called date with Bunny is ridiculous. It’s not even real, in any sense of the word.

That’s evident when Jock, who’s in town, requests that my date and I meet him at the stadium to kick off our night.

He introduces us out in the parking lot and proceeds to inform me he’ll be driving us around to procure the necessary photo ops.

“Photo ops?”

“Yes, photo ops, Graham.”

“Fabulous,” I mutter, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jock shakes his head and says quietly to just me, “Hey, don’t get pissed. I think it’s bullshit too.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I hiss.

“I’ll make it up to you later this week,” he says cryptically. “You’ll see.”

I don’t know what that means, but okay.

In the back seat of a dark sedan, with Jock at the helm, Bunny and I barely speak.

I have nothing to say.

Oddly, neither does she.

Fuck.

I realize then that she’s not an actual fan. The team set this up. Bunny is some kind of an actress or a model.

This is even more of a joke than I realized.

From that point on, I just go through the motions.

And so does Bunny.

Pictures are taken and promptly posted on social media. We don’t even go see a movie or eat dinner. We just pretend that we do for the “photo ops.”

In a way, I’m glad none of it is real. I’d hate to disappoint a real fan, even if she was just one of the ones who swoon over me. Though God only knows why. I’m just me. I’m not perfect by any means.

But what is perfect is when, two days later, on Thursday night, Jock comes through.

Sticking with his cryptic promise that he’d make it up to me, he shows up on my doorstep with…

“Eden?”

Door hanging open, I stand there in shock, staring at the woman I love and have been missing like nuts.

I’m happy as hell, yes, but I’m worried we’ll end up busted.

Leaning my head out the door and glancing frantically left and right, I hiss, “Shit, babe, get in here. We can’t get caught now.”

Eden, suppressing a grin, looks over at Jock. “Should you tell him, or should I?”

“I will,” Jock replies.

“Would someone freaking tell me something?” I cry out.

Jock snorts. “Calm down, Tettersaw. What we’re trying to say is there’s no need to worry about prying eyes. I’m the designated spy for tonight. The team tasked me with keeping an eye on you.”

“No way,” I scoff. “You’re my babysitter?”

He laughs and lowers his head. “I am.”

I’m still paranoid, so I insist Eden still hurry into the house.

“He’s cute when he’s stressed,” she says as we all step into the foyer.

Jock rolls his eyes. “Yes, he’s just adorable. Some say dreamy, even.”

“Definitely dreamy,” Eden agrees, snickering lightly.

In a rare moment of un-guardedness, Jock pretends to flutter his eyes at me.

Heaven help us.

“Fuck off,” I tell him, though I’m chuckling the whole time. “It’s one thing for Eden to say shit like that, but it’s plain weird coming from you.”

Jock covers his heart, pretending to be wounded. “Ouch, such harsh words for a man who’s only trying to help.”

Hmm, he does have a point. Jock did bring Eden to me.

“You are helping,” I say. “And I am eternally grateful.”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough joking around.” Jock eyes both me and Eden intently. “In all seriousness, we don’t have much time. I need to have Eden home by midnight.” He scoffs as he adds, “That’s when my babysitting shift ends.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. “This is truly crazy.”

Jock ignores my commentary and goes on. “I’ll wait down here, okay? Maybe I can watch some TV or something. In any case, I’d suggest you two head upstairs and make the most of this golden opportunity to spend time alone without fear of retribution.”

“Say no more,” I state.

I know what “spending time alone” means, and so does Eden.

We share a knowing look, and then I tell Jock, “Be sure to turn the volume on the TV way the fuck up.”