Fake Out (Fake Boyfriend 1) - Page 34

Maybe I should call him. Or Facebook him. Although, what would I say? Hey, we haven’t spoken since the last time you blew me, but sorry someone outed you? Yeah, maybe I won’t contact him.

“I could go for that drink now,” I say.

Noah buys me a beer and moves to the stool next to mine. I’m aware of Damon’s scowl, but I tell myself not to read into it. Maybe Noah’s a dick, and Damon’s looking out for me. Then again, he said he’d introduce me to his friends who’d want to hook up with me, and between Noah and Wyatt, Noah is closer to my type. At least, I think he is. Considering the two guys I’ve been attracted to are athletic guys, I guess I have a type.

Damon’s friends are great, and minus the initial screwing with me, they accept me. I understand what Damon means now about being around people who have gone through the same thing. Just knowing they get it without having to talk about it makes me comfortable around them.

That is, until I go to leave and Noah says he’ll walk me out.

My eyes find Damon, and he frowns, but then he mouths “Go for it.”

Right. Guess I know where I still stand. Guess I also know I should stop trying to change it.

Noah follows me out, and as the cold, frigid air hits me, I try to come up with an excuse to leave Noah on the curbside.

“Where you headed?” he asks.

“Subway.”

“Want a ride? I have my car.” The lights on a Beemer nearby flash. Of course, he drives a BMW. A luxury one by the look of it.

“I’m fine with the subway. Thanks.” Shit, I’m usually not this rude. Or blunt. But dating a woman is easy. Flirting with a guy? Shit, pass me a manual. Plus, I don’t even know if I want to flirt with Noah. Since realizing I also like guys, I’m more confused than ever. Noah is hot, there’s no doubt about that, but do I think he’s hot because I’m attracted to him, or do I merely see that the guy looks like a model and could be an actor. He’s generically good-looking. That doesn’t mean I want to bone him. Or does it?

I have no idea anymore.

Noah leans against his car. “What’s the deal with you and Damon?”

“There is no deal.”

“Okay, I’ll rephrase. What’s Damon’s deal with you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Noah rubs his chin in thought. “Well, let’s see. He didn’t tell me about tonight, and Aron isn’t here either. Not to mention, the ‘hands off’ warning Wyatt gave me when Damon came out to greet you. It’s … odd. I haven’t seen Damon interested in anyone for a long while, but he’s definitely showing possessive tendencies over you.”

“Nah, it’s not like that. I’m his sister’s best friend. He doesn’t want me to get screwed over because he’ll have to answer to Stacy.”

“Stacy is pretty scary,” Noah says with a small smile, “but I think it’s more than that. And I think you have a thing for him too. Otherwise, why else wouldn’t you get in my car? Free ride with a hot guy versus the subway when it’s still freezing. I’d think that’d be no contest.”

“Well, when you’re so modest and all …”

Noah chuckles. “I’m a realist. I’m hot and have money—I’m the perfect catch.”

“If I wanted a sugar daddy. Which I don’t.”

His smile doesn’t waver as he eyes me up and down. “I’m too young to be a sugar daddy. I promise not to hit on you if you let me drive you home. It’s obvious you’ve got something going with Damon, and while you’re definitely my type, I’m not into guys who are into other guys. Unless it’s a three-way type situation, and then—”

“Okay, okay. You can drive me home.”

He needs to stop talking about me and Damon and three-ways. It’s making my brain explode with images that could make a long trip home uncomfortable.

Noah gestures to his car. Guess I’m doing this then.

CHAPTER TWELVE

DAMON

Damon:

Don’t hook up with Noah.

I stare at the text I sent an hour ago. Maddox doesn’t have that feature enabled that lets me know if it’s been read or not, and I resent him a little for being smart. Then I realize it’s my own fault, because I told him that’s how to trick Stacy into thinking you haven’t read her messages.

Let me stalk you, damn it.

And now I’m being neurotic. Fun.

A crappy shower later, I’m climbing into bed and telling myself not to check my phone like some desperate loser. And look at that, my hand reaches for it. I have no willpower when it comes to Maddox, and I’m sure my mixed signals are giving him whiplash.

Maddox:

Why not? Isn’t that what you wanted?

Shit. I get the feeling he’s pissed. Or fishing. I wish I could talk to him instead of having this conversation via text, because tone is impossible to read. No way in hell I’m calling him though.

Tags: Eden Finley Fake Boyfriend M-M Romance
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