Page 9 of Textbook Defense

Jordy wasn’t used to being doted upon. It was weird, but Rowan’s enthusiasm made it easy to go along with. “Thanks.” He shoved some money in the tip jar as they swept away from the bar.

“Oooh,” Rowan crooned, leaning into his space. “Handsomeandgenerous.”

The kicker of it was that the ruse was clearly working. Jordy could see people noticing him, even looking in his direction and turning to whisper to their companions, but people kept their distance. Rowan and his feigned affection provided a perfect buffer.

“Well, with you occupied, she might be the target of the fourth-richest man in Toronto. She’s earned it.”

Rowan laughed and found a table for their drinks. “And he’s clever and thoughtful too. I’m a lucky man.”

Shaking his head, Jordy set his drink down. “Are you always like this?”

Rowan blinked at him, the picture of innocence. “Like what?”

Loud. Friendly. Flirty.Jordy gestured, hoping he didn’t come across as critical. “You’re very… excited. All the time. Doesn’t it get tiring?”

“Does a fish tire of swimming?” The words came out teasing, but the expression on Rowan’s face, the slight tension at the corners of his eyes, the crease in his forehead, told Jordy he was taking the question seriously. “I’m not, actually. Always like this, I mean. But I wouldn’t let on about that to a fake boyfriend. Not when I’m here to be charming.”

“Of course not,” Jordy said dryly. Over Rowan’s shoulder, he spotted Alana heading in their direction. He’d have to take a page from Rowan’s book and try something a little less subtle. “Are you a fake boyfriend who dances?”

Rowan followed his line of sight and inclined his head in understanding. “My dear, I do whatever is required of me.” He offered his hand. “Shall we?”

PLAYING PRETENDlovers with Jordy was not exactly hard, even if parts of Rowan didn’t get that memo while they were pressed against each other on the dance floor. Mercifully, Jordy either didn’t notice or simply had too much tact to comment. Probably the latter. After dinner, a group of intrepid fans zeroed in on him with gushing excitement, flattering him and pushing into his personal space. Jordy smiled and gave diplomatic answers, but the experience was a far cry from the ease with which he interacted with Rowan.

He was uncomfortable with the adoration, Rowan realized. Shameful. A man like that ought to be adored on the regular.

Then again, perhaps he’d misjudged this group of fans.

“Just gotta be more aggressive on the forecheck, right, Shaw? Then maybe the Shield can take home our Cup again,” one of the fans said with a chuckle. Rowan might not know hockey, but he could still recognize a reductive statement from a middle-aged white guy who enjoyed believing he had answers to all the world’s problems.

Rowan made an executive decision. “Babe, look who it is,” he said with a gesture of his head across the room. He was sure they could find someone to talk to over in that general direction. He turned to the fans. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we really should go say hello. It was wonderful to meet you. I hope we get another opportunity to talk again soon.”

Jordy put on a convincing sad face and made his excuses. After shaking their hands, he retook Rowan’s and let himself be pulled away. “Who are we going to see?”

“Oh, someone, anyone,” Rowan said vaguely. “I’m sure we can find a person willing to talk to us.”

Jordy chuckled. “Thanks for that. I don’t mind fans, but….”

“Yeah, no, that wasn’t a fan. That was a know-it-all.” Rowan sipped his beer and drank in the sight of Jordy bitingback laughter. He really was ridiculously attractive, and Rowan enjoyed the look of mischief sparkling in his eyes.

“Takes one to know one?” he ribbed.

Rowan gasped theatrically. “Now that’s just rude. Suggesting that I would pretend to know anything about ice hockey.”

Jordy gave him an affronted look. “It’s just hockey.”

“You see? I don’t even know what it’scalled—”

“Rowan. Jordy.” The smooth, amused voice washed over him like a bucket of cold water. Gem, of course. She’d probably been waiting to pounce since the first course, and now she had her chance. When Rowan turned around, there she was in all her finery, sipping from a martini glass that seemed impervious to lipstick smudges from that smug mouth. “I see you’ve gotten better acquainted. Did you decide to take my advice after all?”

Abort!Rowan’s brain tried to shout through his skull. If Gem ruined his evening of fun by alerting Jordy to the fact that Rowan was every bit as big a fan of his arse as his stalker was, he would die of mortification and come back as the ghost of Gem’s sex life.

Before Rowan could find a smooth answer or Gem could dig him into a deeper hole of embarrassment, Jordy arched an eyebrow and said, “Yes, if your advice was to proposition a near stranger to be his fake boyfriend for the evening.”

The silence hung in the air for a moment as Gem took that in. Then she burst into laughter. “Tell me he didn’t.” She shot Rowan an incredulous look. “Only you.”

Jordy shrugged. “To be fair, it was more of a mutual thing.”

“Yes,” Rowan said, finding his voice again. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you were the one to suggest it first, Mr. I Have Two Tickets. Also, you have to admit that it’s worked spectacularly.”

---