#that is a lie nothing from her store ships to Canada in under a week

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

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[our-jensen-ackles-love]

Flashes; Chapter Four

Playboy Jensen Ackles is hurting his television show’s image. Every time he promised to get his act together, it’d last for about a week before pictures emerge of him half-drunk with some broad on his arm. Fed up and desperate, his agent decides their only hope to save some face is to write up a contract with a nobody girl who could use the money while getting to play the role of Jensen’s girlfriend.

It was only for a year and it was only for the photos.  But feelings don’t always follow the rules, do they?

CATCH UP HERE

Word Count: 1886

Chapter Warnings: just kinda filler fluff

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Chapter Four

Last Week

A half-drunk bottle of wine, the second season of Supernatural playing in the background and several small towers of Home Depot boxes surrounding your coffee table. That was the atmosphere you were dealing with right now.

“You’re joking right?” Olivia asked for probably the millionth time of that evening.

“No,” you shook your head, pulling the packing tape closer to you as you finished up one of the last boxes of your clothes. “I leave Sunday morning to Vancouver.”

“For a year?” This time it was Briana who asked the question while gingerly sipping her only glass of wine for the night. “Like legit a whole year.”

You nodded slowly, trying not to over think the situation you had just gotten yourself into. “That’s where Jensen wants me to be.”

“But didn’t you guys just start dating?”

You sighed knowing that you could only tell them what Henry had said. They were not allowed to know that you had signed a yearlong contract to basically act out the role of Jensen’s girlfriend, if at any point you let that little piece of information slip, you could be sued and basically left out to dry as a gold digging whore who once hooked up with one of the most sought after bachelors’ in Hollywood today.

“Actually,” you started, remembering the lines that you had been practicing in the mirror all morning while you waited for your friends to arrive. “We’ve been dating for a couple weeks, but didn’t want to come out to the world just yet.”

Janet twirled around in your favorite desk chair. “So why the sudden change?”

You shrugged, avoiding all eye contact as best as you could without looking wary. “The paparazzi caught up to us on my birthday last week and we just decided it would be best to let the cat out of the bag that way.”

--

Present Day

It was nearly impossible to get comfortable in your seat. Despite being flown in first class, something you had never been able to do in the past, you were unable to properly relax for the majority of your six hour flight. And now that the pilot had announced that you would be landing in the next thirty minutes, your stomach was in knots.

“You’re going to be okay,” you whispered to yourself, hoping that no one could hear you trying to talk through your anxiety. “You did this for the better.”

It wasn’t a lie. The money that Jensen’s agency had offered you at the end of this contract was enough to make anyone leave their life behind in an instant. But what was going to make this difficult was the acting like you actually liked the man; his attitude towards you was really making you question just how many women he had been with. He treated you almost like you were just another notch on the bedpost.

And from the quick google search you had sworn that you wouldn’t do at the airport, it showed that he had, in fact, been with several random women all throughout the last couple of years. All of them seemed to be random and from the countless articles you could barely stomach to skim, it seemed that they all were just girls that he had brought home from whatever bar, in whatever city Jensen had been in that night.  

Henry had explained that due to the importance of Jensen keeping his role in the show, a show that had threatened, the last three times, that if he didn’t get his act together they would drop him like a hot potato; they needed to keep him in a straight line. Apparently, he had been threatened with this agreement the last time this happened; which according to one tabloid article that was only two months ago.

Again, you had a million questions as to why he picked you up that night at the bar, especially if he knew that this contract agreement would come into play if pictures got out.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot’s velvety voice came through the speaker above your head. “We are beginning our descent into the beautiful Vancouver, Canada. So please, turn off all electronic devices and place your seat and trays into the upright position.”

You closed your eyes and took several deep breaths while you felt the slow drop of the plane. The deep breaths were supposed to calm your nerves, but they were only reminding you of what you had gotten yourself into because of too much tequila.

The landing had been smooth, probably one of the perks of being able to pay for an expensive, all-inclusive flight, was that you couldn’t ask for a better crew to be aboard your plane. Henry had paid to have all of your belongings shipped to Jensen’s Vancouver apartment, so all you had to do was grab your carry-on bag and exited as needed. When you followed the signs in the airport towards where the pick-up/drop off parking was, you were met with another loud bunch of flashing camera lights and aggressive loud questions.

“What are you doing in Vancouver?”

“How long have you and Jensen been dating?”

“Do you think this could led somewhere long term?”

“Y/N, Y/N, is that a baby bump we see hiding under that t-shirt?”

You held up your hand, remembering Henry and Jensen reminding you that, you were, under no circumstances allowed to speak to anyone about your relationship without him present. Just supposed to smile at and wave when needed – although the comment about the baby bump made you want to flip them the bird and offer some choice words.

A familiar black SUV came into view from behind the blinding lights that kept following your pathway. Just as the vehicle came into your sights, you saw the familiar face of Cliff come around the car and open the door for you, ushering you in quickly and sealing you off from the vultures of your new world.

Cliff hopped back into the driver’s seat, shifting the car into drive. “How was the flight, Y/N?”

Stealing a glance at the crowd you were leaving behind, you let out a breath you didn’t know that you had been holding. “It was long, probably the longest flight I’ve ever been on.”

You heard Cliff laugh a bit. “Just wait until Christmas comes around in the two months, the two of you will be flying down to Austin.”

“You don’t think I’ll have to meet his family, do you?” You blurted out.

Catching a glimpse of Cliff’s concerned look in the rearview mirror was really all the answer you needed. “I would say so, and he’s probably going to have to meet yours.”

The remainder of your car ride had been silent. Well, silent to anyone who wasn’t allowed in your head because on the inside you were dealing with every emotion that was able to pass through one’s body at once. You had told your mother that you were “dating” someone, which of course had gotten her all kinds of excited, but you were hoping that you could get through this year by keeping her in the dark.

She wasn’t the type of person who read the news, she didn’t watch tv and she never left the house unless it was needed. She grew her own vegetables and believed that anything that you could pick up at a store was much more attenable when you made it yourself. To this day, you still remember the fit she threw when you said you were moving to New York City to focus on becoming a writer.

“Miss Y/L/N, we are here,” Cliff had said quietly. You could feel that he felt somewhat sorry for you and the situation that you had found yourself in. “Jensen should be waiting inside for you.”

You nodded, grabbing your bag that you had thrown to your side before opening the door carefully. Thankfully, there didn’t appear to be any lurkers in this neck of the woods, but you were pretty sure that you saw a gate wrapping around these apartment complexes and what you could only assume was a security guard checking people in.

“Thank you Cliff.”

“I’ll be seeing you around.”

Shutting the door, you turned around and faced your new, temporary home. The apartment that Jensen was living out of was a split floor building, with two apartments on the top floor and two apartments on the bottom floor. It didn’t seem to compare much to his New York flat, but you figured that since he was only in Vancouver for filming purposes, this place was nothing other than a roof over his head.

236 was the number of the apartment. As you closed in, you took another deep breath, bringing your hand up and giving a quick knock. Jensen threw open the door quickly, holding it open just enough that you could squeeze by.

“Good flight?” He asked, turning his back to you and wandering into the open kitchen as the door clicked shut behind you. You couldn’t help, but noticed there was an open bottle of scotch on the counter and half-drunk cup sitting next to it.

“Can’t complain.”

He nodded, adverting his eyes towards his glass and then back to you. “Uh, do you want a drink?”

“I think I should probably get a little settled first, don’t you?”

Acknowledging your answer, he placed his glass back down on the counter and walked towards you. “Your room is right down the hall,” Jensen said, walking in the direction of one of the three doors along the wall. “This place only has one bathroom, so we are going to have to share.”

“I’ve had roommates before Jensen,” you stated, squeezing past him and opening the door he was in front of. Before you was a queen sized bed on a black wooden frame and looking bare without any sheets, a dark wooden dresser with a matching vanity mirror placed directly behind it and the room was littered with your boxes that had probably arrived just a few days before you. “You just have to promise not to hog all the hot water.”

He smirked at you, something that he always seemed to do when you knew he wasn’t taking you seriously. Despite not knowing him long, you were slowly picking up on his tells. “Can’t make any promises when it’s fighting day. That fake blood is a bitch to take off.”

You gave a small laugh, not quite sure where to go from here. This was all still feeling like some made up dream your imagination had procured to help get rid of that pesky writers block, but you knew that it wasn’t the case. You had spent most of the last week pinching yourself every so often in an effort to try and wake up.

Jensen shifted his weight on his feet before clearing his throat. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. Come find me when you are ready for that drink.”

With that, he closed your door, leaving you alone to get your life as organized as you could get it. But all you could think about was the fact that drinking was what got you in this position to begin with.

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