Improper Love: A BWWM Romance

by Tyla Walker

  In the end, after giving myself one last look in the mirror, I figured that I had better get ready. I left my manager in charge once more.

  “Looking good mom!” Jasmine says as I finish dressing up for the occasion.

  “Oh, yeah? What does mommy look like?” I ask her while making a slow turn.

  “Like a billion dollars!

  I chuckle and kiss my little girl. Then I tell her that she is very clever in the way that she manages to get the best seats in the house for free. She just gives me this cute wink, and I have to kiss her again for it.

  A limousine arrives to take us to the game. We are escorted in the back way to avoid the crowds. Everything feels like a dream, and I’m just waiting to suddenly wake up back in the deli. Being treated like important people, it’s something else. Did Weston put them up to this? Or is this normal for people dating a celebrity?

  I have to admit; I am pretty overwhelmed with it all the attention, but Jasmine is eating it up.

  Seven

  Weston

  “I heard you’re bringing in your fiancé here. So you’re really settling down, huh?” one of my teammates who is nosy, but in a good motherly kind of way, asks me while we’re still in the locker. He’s not the first to ask.

  “Yeah, they should be on the limo. Now that we made things public, I have to make sure they’re both safe.” I make sure to sound sincere since what I really want is to secure my contract with the NBA, and that means I have to make this work.

  “Damn West, you’re really going to make all those women cry?” another asks.

  “Weren’t you with that other girl, though? The one you’re fucking this week?” a guy who I go to parties with the team states.

  “I get it. Trust me, I won’t believe me either. But I actually have to make sure to hide our relationship by seeing other women. She says it’s fine as long as we protect her privacy. She doesn’t like being followed by the media, nor does she like the whole fame.”

  Yup. Weston Frasier is prepared boys, so thanks for the effort, but I am a man who makes sure that things will go well in everything I start. Whether that’s in business, basketball, or in my fake engagement plot with LaDasia. Yes, I actually had to sit down and talk about this with my pretend future wife and her bratty but ingenious kid.

  They buy it, and I have to give myself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. Good work Weston, you should be an actor. But I like basketball so, the closest I can be as an actor is during this time where I pretend to be LaDasia’s future hubby.

  So the team congratulate me and start bugging me about the bachelor party and shit. I tell them that if we win, I’ll think about it. They all start throwing their dirty underwear at me, and I just leave them to check on my fiancé’s status.

  I send LaDasia a message. I hope you guys are excited and prepared to wow these people because we are about to make a show they will love!

  This is Jasmine. And don’t worry, Weston, we’ll make sure that they will love all of us so much. They won’t even remember your past life. I have to smile at the kid’s reply. I can’t believe she’s not my age, but I guess this is for the best.

  The coach is calling us to do some warmups, so I make one last quick reply. Good. I expect nothing less to the future, Mrs. Frasier and my future daughter.

  After sending the message, I give my phone to my agent, and I start my warmups with the rest of the team. A few minutes in, I suddenly hear the courtside people cheer, and it makes me look to the reason why everyone is whistling and howling.

  I see my “fiancé” and her daughter go to their seats. I have to make a double-take at LaDasia, she looks fucking fantastic. I have never seen her dressed up before. I have only seen her in her hairnet and work clothes.

  And I am not the only one looking at her. I can tell that they’re looking because she’s my future wife AND she’s smoking hot. Why the hell is she just showing off her ASSets? And those tits, those legs, and those damn curves.

  My pals start nudging me like we’re some teenagers in a club, and that there’s this foxy looking girl. And then we all shake our booties and break into dance and song. I shake my head at their childishness before waving at LaDasia and Jasmine, who immediately wave back with the same fervor.

  I trot over to her real quick, kiss her on the cheek, and say, “You are very beautiful.”

  She smiles in return, then she does this thing with her finger, teasing my lips as I feel it tingle when she traces my lower lip. Did I mention that her eyes are looking damn hot and mysterious? I think she also knows that it makes me feel excited because then she pinches my nose and makes this sweet giggle.

  God fucking dammit this woman is going to drive me mad! But I push that thought away and turn my attention to the little girl wearing my team’s jersey, and MY number; the girl is a winner with this one! And I’m beginning to understand that she’s my fan. Well then, I am proud to have her as my pretend fiancé’s daughter, because this is brilliant.

  “I’m happy that we can finally be together in your game!” Jasmine beams and shows such an adorable smile for me, but for all the world to see as well.

  LaDasia just stands there, quietly smiling as if she too is happy to watch my game like this. It works perfectly since everyone is responding with “awes” and “ahs” that the whole stadium sounds like the audience of a sitcom.

  “Me too.” I ruffle her hair first, then I kiss Jasmine on the top of the head and tell her to enjoy the game, and then took my place.

  While I’m on my way back to the team, I hear LaDasia shout to me loud and clear, “Go West!”

  And the crowd goes wild. They all clap and cheer at my show of affection, Jasmine’s winning personality, and LaDasia’s motivational cheer of sorts. It looks like the plan was working just fine.

  Somehow everything is coming together, and I am lucky to have chosen LaDasia for this plan. Because I’m starting to believe that this weird chemistry and almost telepathic synchronizing shit is going to secure me, get me a fucking clean reputation, and boost my popularity even more!

  The game is about to start. I take a quick glance at the mother and daughter, who are both now sitting on their chairs. The former and I make eye contact.

  With no one looking, I give LaDasia a playful wink. She rolls her eyes at me in return.

  Eight

  LaDasia

  For a moment there, I believe my heart skipped a beat or two. No, you just imagined it, LaDasia. It’s not what you are thinking. Actually, it is quite the opposite. I try to give myself a long explanation as to why I feel myself blushing at Weston’s compliment and attention. I know that I can clean up pretty well when I wanted to, but I don’t think it will be enough to get the attention of a playboy like Weston.

  Like magic, though, I suddenly have this intention to root for my pretend lover. Maybe it is the atmosphere he created, and how the crowd loves a good romantic show before the game that I am cheering for Weston as I finally take my seat.

  As for my daughter, she is not sitting down at all. For a big fan like her to be in the courtside must really be a dream come true. I can’t tell why Weston is a good player, not when I seldom watch the game since I’m busy thinking of business strategies at home. When the baller came to ruin my decent deli business, there’s no way I’ll root for him either while Jasmine watches the game on our television.

  I remember booing most of the time Weston Frasier shoots for the team. Not like my booing can stop him from doing well in the court.

  Ok, fine. He is a pretty decent good player. At least here, he’s not a jerk who ruins some people’s business and lectures them about not being good enough to admit defeat.

  The game can really hype you up, though, I can’t help but clap and cheer from time to time. And when Weston Frasier works the court with his competent ball-handling skills, I’m at my feet cheering for him. His moves and athletic prowess are putting me under a spell that I shout and scream with the crowd.

  Jasm
ine is in high heaven more than I am. The two of us will hug each other when Weston can steal the ball and run back to their home court to take a shot. The ball goes in, and the crowd cheers for him.

  Someone famous sitting next to me taps my shoulder to congratulate me. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him in a movie before. My mind is too preoccupied with the game that I can’t remember his name. All I know is that he is very handsome, and his hair is gorgeous.

  I thank him, then I notice Weston looking at us, distracted. His blue eyes draw me in as if telling me to only look at him, and him alone. I do just that, and he makes an impossible half-court shot, and it fucking goes in!

  IS THIS GUY EVEN HUMAN?

  I completely forget about the superstar beside me when I stand up, and Jasmine jumps and embraces me. The two of us end up shouting, “GO WESTON!”

  He points at us, and then he is back on the game.

  After the game, I say goodbye to everyone who greets and congratulates me. Jasmine is handling this much better than I am as she gives everyone a high five, and they just love her. While Jasmine is busy, the celebrity from earlier comes to me once more.

  “Hey again,” he says to me with that perfect smile on his perfect lips.

  “Hi…” Oh my gosh, I still don’t remember his name. All I can remember at the moment is that I think he’s that guy on that superhero movie I watched with Jasmine last month.

  “Weston scoring a genuine woman like you, he’s lucky.” He gives me a once over.

  “Is he now?” I smile bashfully. Oh, he is. He is lucky I even agreed to this plan of his. The guy seems to be a charmer like my fake fiancé, though.

  I’m honestly a little star-struck right now, but I am seriously looking at him because I am trying so hard to remember his name. At least he doesn’t realize that I haven’t mentioned his name once, so that’s good, I think. Is it good?

  I am lost in thought when I feel strong hands pull me, and when I come to, I’m in Weston’s nicely sculpted biceps, and my cheek is against his chest. He looks down at me, and his stunning blond hair falls down elegantly on his face. An angel. NO. Not an angel. Well, Lucifer, maybe.

  He kisses my brow affectionately, and I literally felt my heart thump against my chest loudly. “Making friends, babe?”

  The guy raises both his hands in defense. “Just saying you’re lucky to have each other.”

  “We are.”

  “More you than her.”

  Weston laughs. I am not even following this conversation anymore since all my mind can think of is how good it feels to be in a one-arm embrace of Weston Frasier’s amazing body.

  My fiancé says something, the celebrity whose name I still can’t remember replies, and then they continue to throw a few more remarks while I’m secured in Weston’s big arms. The other guy soon leaves, and I finally get to have a good look on Frasier’s face.

  “Were you jealous?” I can’t help but grin at him.

  I think he blushed when he looks away. “You imagine things wildly.”

  Weston explains to me that he came out to talk to us, and for some photo opportunities. He didn’t expect I was engaged in conversation with another man. I tell him that I can’t even remember the guy’s name, and for a split second, I think he looks happy with that; it was too quick for me to know if it actually happened or if I just imagine things.

  Jasmine soon joins the two of us. Weston carries her high up. I shake my head and smile at the two since I feel like Weston is just this big kid when he’s with Jasmine.

  They’re really cute right now. But remember, LaDasia, this isn’t real. I have to remind myself not to get swept up in his attention and the hoopla, because all this is just play-acting.

  Nine

  Weston

  I’m super annoyed right now. I’m ready to go out to have my morning jog when I check my phone for any update about my image. Do I google myself? Yes. Yes, I do.

  But I’m doing this because I have to check my status. I have this fresh handsome smile that makes my neighbor’s day pretty fantastic, and then I see this section in the tabloids.

  To see one of the tabloids the next morning, and that it says I’m cheap? Yeah. It stated that I was so cheap that I didn’t even bother giving my fiancé an engagement ring. This motherfucker is dead.

  Deep down, I hated myself more than the tabloid since I can’t believe I forgot that one important thing: a fucking ring. I use my pent up frustration for missing something obvious and turn it into fuel as I left for my morning jog.

  Jogging helps me think. I use my time to think of how I shall purchase a ring for the future, Mrs. Frasier. This whole thing is a scam, sure, but a ring is not that expensive for someone like me. The big obstacle is how to pick one.

  I’m not really in love with LaDasia, nor is this engagement all about love. So should I just buy one decent looking ring that the media will approve of and talk about? Something that says, Weston Frasier is such a good man.

  My feet slowly comes to a stop when I reach a fountain nearby. I lean down to take a good mouthful of water to get me through the rest of the jog.

  An image of LaDasia pops in my head from the game last night. She looked amazing, and her cheers were downright adorable. Then she picks up Jasmine and cheers again. I have tons of fans cheering for me, so why is it that their attention feels different? My happy thoughts are now interrupted by a new memory from the same night, the one where I see this superstar hitting on MY fake fiancé!

  That settles it, I’m doing this right. I’ll ask Jasmine to help. Perfect. Who better to know what ring would best fit LaDasia than her daughter? I can’t help but smile to myself as I take off and finish my running course.

  I gleefully swing by the deli and ask LaDasia if I could borrow Jasmine for a while.

  “Excuse me?” She looks surprised. “fine but make sure you make sure she’s safe at all times and that she’s back by—”

  “MOOOM PLEEEAASE?” Jasmine gives her mom that one look she knows LaDasia can never resist.

  “Oh, fine,” the single mom says in defeat.

  I give LaDasia a look that makes her glare at me in return. Jasmine then hugs her mom, then she goes to me with a spring to her step, and we both head out without a second to waste!

  Jasmine and I go to the jewelry store. Inside the store, we can see another man with a kid, the man looks like he thought of the same thing I did. Jasmine didn’t seem to know them, but she gives the five yr old a high five; at least, I’m pretty sure he’s five. It doesn’t matter.

  I’m currently wearing a disguise since I’m not in the mood to get recognized. Once the two who got there before us left the store, it is now our turn to choose.

  The man behind the counter bows to us slightly, very gentlemanly and shit. Jasmine already knows what she wants for her mom, so she basically takes over and tells the guy to bring what she’s looking for, and when the guy comes back with a variety of what Jasmine is looking for, she helps me pick out a nice ring for her mother.

  To thank her for helping me out, I ask what she wants to eat, and she says Mexican food. It turns out to be Jasmine’s favorite. We got to this pretty neat and authentic Mexican place. I tell her to go wild and buy whatever she wants, and that it’s all on me.

  While we stuff our faces with nachos, tacos, and cheesy quesadillas, I ask her what her father thought about all of this.

  A weird look comes over her face, and I immediately regret my question.

  “I never knew my father,” she begins saying as she reaches out for the large soda. “He left right after I was born. He said he wasn’t ready to settle down.”

  “That asshole,” I realize I just blurt that out, but Jasmine just chuckles, so I thought LaDasia will forgive me for cursing just a little.

  “He is an actor on a soap opera. I don’t think he even sends mom any child support, and she would never ask for it.” She slurps her drink loudly. “She is proud.”

  “I didn’t mean to bring up somethi
ng hurtful.” I ruffle her hair, then she looks up at me with a sweet smile.

  “It’s no big deal. How can I miss something I never had? I don’t want a father in my life who doesn’t love me. I’ll just have a mom who loves me as much as my mom does. She is the best, and I want to grow up and be just like her.”

  Jasmine just goes back to stuffing her face with all this Mexican food in front of us. I let her be and just eat at my own pace. She asks if she can have more, so I tell her to go for it. I watch her leave the table.

  My hand reaches out for some hot sauce when I think about my fake fiancé. When I close my eyes, I can picture what she probably went through.

  I have to admit that I have a newfound respect for LaDasia. She has been raising that little girl by herself and fought to open her deli and make it successful. Suddenly, I feel like an ass for my attitude toward her and her business.

  Ten

  LaDasia

  Something is definitely up with these two, especially after they got back from wherever Weston took my daughter earlier. The two of them look like they are the best of friends, and I can tell they went out for some Mexican food since I saw the salsa stain on Jasmine’s shirt.

  I don’t hate it or anything. If anything, I am actually happy to see Jasmine having a great time with her favorite basketball player. She looks absolutely ecstatic, hanging out with Weston. I am also happy to know that the guy is good to my daughter; an act or not, it’s sweet. And I know why there are a lot of young people who want to be like him.