Fake Out (Fake Boyfriend 1)

I can’t hold in my laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve gone further with you than I ever did with her.”

“No. It really doesn’t.”

“You wanna tell me about the guy?”

“Nope.”

“Come on. I’m sitting over here going through an existential crisis—”

Damon snorts. “Yeah, you seem to be really suffering. You’re taking this whole thing better than I did when I first admitted to myself I liked guys. And that’s saying something, because I always knew—on some level.”

I shrug. “I guess I’m not all that shocked. I dunno, it makes … sense. The label doesn’t feel right, but the definition of it does. It certainly explains some shit I’ve been confused about since college. But I’ve shared, and now it’s your turn. Don’t make me feel like a loser on my own.”

Damon sips his warm beer. “This story is going to make you feel so much better about yourself. You know how every family has that other family they grow up with?”

“Like me and Will, you mean? Our parents are friends, we’ve been friends since grade school, and—”

“Exactly like that. My best friend, Eric, we did everything together as kids. He was the first person I came out to.”

“So exactly like me and Will.”

Damon shakes his head. “Nah. From the sound of it, Will didn’t give a shit you were hooking up with a guy.”

That’s true. I didn’t even second-guess telling him about it. I knew he wouldn’t care.

“I came out to Eric senior year of high school. He, uh … was one of those straight guys I told you about. The ones where they act cool but stiffen at the same time and tell you not to hit on them.”

“Is he why you’ve tensed every time this weekend when I’ve joked around?”

Damon nods and takes another sip of beer. “Thing is? With any other guy, had he said that, I would’ve told him to go fuck himself. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to hump the entire male population. And homophobia certainly isn’t a turn-on.”

“But it was different with Eric?”

Damon hangs his head. “Yeah. Had a huge crush on him since we hit puberty. Real Callum Scott ‘Dancing on My Own’ shit. I watched him go through girlfriends, have prom dates, homecoming dates—all that fun stuff I never took a date to because I wasn’t out and didn’t want to pretend with a girl. I never acted on my crush, never hinted, and made damn sure I didn’t make jokes about it, because I was terrified of him figuring it out. Eric was straight, and I told myself to forget about him. After I came out to him and we left high school, we drifted apart. He went to Yale, and I did my thing at Newport, but our families still got together over the holidays, so we still saw each other. Hell, his family came to my graduation ceremony, and mine to his. For the most part, it was the same between us, but he always acted … straighter around me.”

“What do you mean, straighter?”

“He emphasized his sex life whenever I saw him. Talked about his hookups nonstop, even though I kept my mouth shut about mine. When he moved back to the city, we started to hang out again, and I thought I was over him. I had countless boyfriends during college.”

“Manwhore,” I mutter to try to break the tension. I don’t like where this story is going.

Damon laughs. “Hey, Stacy’s told me plenty about your manwhorish ways. I’m a saint in comparison.”

“Fair enough.”

“Last year, he broke up with his long-term girlfriend, and we went out drinking.” Damon’s lips turn down as his face fills with regret. “We ended up kissing.”

“Did you make the first move or did he?”

“I’ve gone over that night so many times in my head, because I wasn’t sure. But you know how I said in certain situations I’ve always made sure to protect myself? Like in locker rooms and that? It was the same with Eric. I don’t know if he knew about my crush, or it was that I was gay and … there. But that night was all him. I’d gone years without kissing him, so I know it definitely wouldn’t have been me. I’ve overthought it so much I think my memories are starting to warp. Though, I remember him saying he wanted to kiss me because if I was a chick, I’d be the perfect person for him. I should’ve pushed him away, but I’d wanted it for so long. And then we wake up next to each other in the same bed, and he suddenly lets his homophobic freak fly.”

“Shit.”

“Everything he said was in the heat of the moment, but it made me feel like the shittiest person in the world.”

“What did he say?”

He swallows so hard I can see his Adam’s apple bounce. “That I manipulated him. That I took advantage while he was drunk. He said I knew he was straight, so it was up to me to put a stop to him. All we did was make out a little and some hand stuff, but it didn’t go any further than that. As drunk as we both were, I knew deep down it wasn’t going to end well. What we did was enough to freak him out.”