Fake Out (Fake Boyfriend 1)

“Fuck, I love you.”

Maddox grins. “I know.”

“Nice Star Wars reference.”

“I told you the originals were better. They’re quotable.”

“But the effects are shit.”

“I don’t think I can live with you anymore.”

“You don’t live with me,” I point out.

Maddox swallows hard. “I want to do it. I want you to move in with me.”

“Okay, how did we go from almost breaking up over the idea of moving in together to you asking me to move in?”

“It wasn’t the moving in part that freaked me out. I assumed it was, but when I thought about why I came home, it wasn’t because you wanted to live with me. It was because I thought you were manipulating the situation to get what you want.”

“I—”

He cuts me off before I can interrupt. “I know that’s not what you did, but at the time, that’s what drove me away.”

“I’m worried it’s too soon and you’ll freak out again, but I do need a place to live. If you’re unsure, I can get a six-month lease somewhere and we’ll reassess then.”

“I have a cheap apartment, and even though it’s small, it’s enough for us. Might need to buy a wardrobe to fit somewhere because my closet barely holds all my shit. But with your promotion, and me paying half my rent, if we saved for a few years, we could buy a place in Brooklyn or somewhere cheaper. Or go on a really expensive round-the-world trip.”

“Look at you, planning a future,” I joke, but inside I’m doing a frickin’ happy dance—an embarrassing one with awkward white guy clicking and finger pointing.

“I don’t like fighting with you.”

That sobers my internal dancing a little. “I agree, fighting sucks, but there’ll only be more fighting if you’re truly not ready for this.”

“I am ready. I promise. And if I become uncomfortable again, I’ll let you know before I blow up.”

“You know what one good thing is about you blowing up? The makeup sex.” Sex with Maddox in general is awesome. I can’t get enough of him.

“Well then, maybe you’re a dickhead.” He smirks.

“Are you picking a fight right now so I can fuck you again?”

“Is it working? Assface?”

“Honestly? I don’t know if I can get it up again. You’ve fucked me dry.”

Maddox sighs. “Fine. I’ll order us some refueling food, and then I’ll call you names until you can’t take it anymore.”

“You’re the perfect man.”

“Thanks, Dik.”

“Wait, are you using my initials or calling me another name?”

Maddox winks. “Figure it out yourself.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

MADDOX

I shouldn’t be nervous. After all, I’m not the one who has to walk across a stage today. Nope, I just have to sit with my boyfriend’s parents and watch as Damon graduates law school.

“It’s so cute you’re scared of Mom and Dad,” Stacy says beside me. Damon just left us to go sit with the rest of his class, while we wait for his parents to turn up before we take our own seats.

“I’m not scared,” I lie. I lie my ass off. I want them to love me.

“You don’t need to be. It helps I’ve been talking you up for years. Hey, maybe I’m psychic and knew you were going to end up with my brother.”

“Maybe you should join my crazy birth mother on the road with her psychic fair.”

“Stacy,” a feminine voice says from behind us.

“Hi, Mom.”

Here we go.

After Stacy’s parents hug her, they make their way over to me. And smile.

“Maddox,” Mrs. King says and hugs me. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” I murmur.

Mr. King shakes my hand and squeezes my shoulder with his other hand. “If you boys need help moving Damon into your apartment next month, let me know. I can drive into the city.”

“Uh … I … oh, okay. Thank you, sir.”

Damon’s father grins. “Call us Henry and Cindy.”

I manage a nod.

“Sir,” Stacy mocks beside me.

“Shut up.” I nudge her.

Cindy purses her lips. “Maddox, I hope you don’t mind, but … we … umm … We invited the Davidsons.”

“Why would I mind?”

“Well, Eric’s not coming, but Denise and Jeff are. They weren’t sure you’d be okay with it after—”

“I have nothing against them at all. But, uh, it’s probably good Eric’s not coming. Damon doesn’t need that today.”

“I still don’t know why he didn’t tell us,” Henry says.

“You know how overprotective Damon can be. He didn’t want Eric to be treated like the bad guy for making a mistake.”

“Doesn’t make what Eric did right,” Stacy says.

“Never said it did, but I can’t help feeling sorry for him.”

“Let’s not get into it here,” Cindy says. “We’re here to celebrate.”

Stacy and I follow her family into the crowd to find some seats.

“You don’t really mean that, do you?” she whispers.

“That I feel sorry for Eric? Yeah, I do. I accepted my feelings for Damon easily, but I struggled with it at first—putting a label on it and defining it. Doesn’t give Eric a right to act like a dick, and if he comes near Damon again, I might have to get violent, but I understand where he was coming from.”