Fake Out (Fake Boyfriend Book 1)

His mouth is domineering and forceful. And damn, if it doesn’t send a shock straight to my groin. His tongue forces my lips to part, and a moan gets stuck in the back of my throat. Our bodies continue to sway to the slow Ed Sheeran song as I get lost in a kiss that’s fake.

This whole thing is fake.

I need to keep reminding myself of that, because this feels so good. Fuck, too good. Maddox no doubt can feel my cock growing against his hip. Trying to step back—because awkward—I realize I’m not the only one who’s too into this. The hardness between us definitely isn’t just me.

The exact moment Maddox’s brain catches up with his dick, he pulls away. His eyes widen in shock, but his lips are parted in want. He shakes off his dazed expression. “You were right. Everyone was staring, so I thought I’d give them what they were waiting for.”

I nod and take a step back.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asks. “I have absolutely no reason to be here anymore. I’ve filled my obligation.”

Again with a nod. Apparently when he kissed me, he took my ability to talk.

Maddox heads straight for the exit, without so much as a goodbye to the bride. Or his friends. I don’t think he’s aware everyone’s staring at us. My eyes catch Will’s right before I slip out the door, and he’s scowling. Don’t know what that’s about.

“Maddy, wait up,” I say as I try to catch up to him. If anything, his feet move faster.

He gets to his car and pauses. “Shit, I’ll be over the limit. Guess I’m calling a cab.” He refuses to look at me, and nothing I say or do will change that, so I awkwardly stand a few feet away from him with my hands in my pockets and my eyes looking anywhere but Maddox.

“Uber will be here in a few minutes,” Maddox says and throws himself on the curb next to his car.

“Okay.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I take the spot next to him but make sure to keep my distance.

“For kissing you.”

“Part of the charade. Although, I’m not sure the tongue was necessary.” My attempt at a joke falls flat. “Probably didn’t help you ran out of there immediately after.”

“It wasn’t part—” He shakes his head. “Sorry, yeah, you’re right. All part of the charade.”

We sit in silence, and I stare out at the street. What should I do? Say “Hey, it’s okay you were turned on while making out with a guy. Happens all the time. Doesn’t mean anything.” Yeah, I don’t think that’ll work this time. The dream he had about us is one thing. This …

“Sorry,” Maddox says again. “Chastity getting married has messed with my head. Coming back here—”

“You don’t have to explain.” I want him to, but it’s not my business, and I have no idea what to say to comfort or reassure him if that’s what he needs.

“You’re gonna go home and tell Stacy I’m a complete head case, aren’t you?”

“She already knows that. She warned me about it.”

He scoffs. “Figures. Look, the dream, the kiss … it’s—”

The sound of a car horn makes both of us jump. “Car’s here,” I say.

“Of course, it is,” he mutters.

Our poor Uber driver tries to talk and be friendly, but Maddox and I keep giving one-word answers. When we pull up to the house, Maddox jumps out and arrives at his front door before I’ve scrambled out of the car.

Maddox pauses in the doorway. “It’s still early,” he whispers. “My parents are probably awake, so—”

“Need to pretend you’re not being weird. Got it.”

We don’t get two feet in the door before his mom comes in from the kitchen. “You boys are home early.”

“Uh, yeah,” Maddox says, “said our congratulations and then got out of there.”

“Come join us in the back for a bonfire and beers.”

“Coolest parents ever,” I say.

Maddox hesitates. “We’ll just go get changed out of our suits first.”

He heads for the stairs, but his mom whispers, “Damon.” When I turn to her, she’s waggling her finger at me to come closer.

“What’s up?” I ask quietly while simultaneously watching Maddox climb the stairs. He doesn’t look back at us.

“Is he okay? He looks … down. Did something happen? There’s a few in this town who still live in the stone ages. I mean, for a small town, we’re pretty accepting. There’s just a handful of them who aren’t.”

Well, your son kissed me, which you wouldn’t find weird because you think he’s gay, but he’s not. Although, he’s definitely freaking out about kissing me. Okay, so I can’t say that. “There were a few, uh, stares. Nothing major.”

“Did you have a fight?”

Not really. Maybe? I have no idea what’s going on in his head. Apart from freaking out. But maybe he blames me for the kiss. “No.”

I don’t think she believes me.

“Okay, well, make sure you boys join us outside, okay? Don’t let him wallow about whatever’s bothering him in his room. That’s his MO.”

“We’ll be right down.”

When I reach the bedroom, Maddox is rummaging in his suitcase for warm clothes. Even though he stiffens at my presence, he pretends he doesn’t know I’m in here.

Wordlessly, I grab my own bag and pull out sweats and a long-sleeved Henley.

“We don’t need to go down there if you don’t want to,” Maddox says.

I laugh. “Yeah, we do. Your mother’s spidey senses are tingling, telling her something’s up with us. She told me not to let you stay up here and wallow.”

“How does she do that? She has like a sixth sense or something.”

“To be fair, you’re wigging out.”

“I’m not wigging out. I’m … okay, fine, I’m wigging out. I’m confused as fuck right now.”

“Kissing a guy might do that to a straight dude.”

Maddox bursts out laughing. “I don’t think it’s the kiss. It’s …” His eyes meet mine, and his laughter dies. “We should get down there—before Mom gets impatient.”

When we dress and go downstairs, Maddox’s parents have set out two more folding chairs opposite theirs and brought out extra blankets for us.

Maddox hands me a warm beer and then holds my free hand as we take our seats. I’m confused by the move. He’s freaking out about kissing me, but now his fingers are relaxed and warm, intertwined with mine. He could use the argument that we’re in front of his parents and it’s part of the act, but we haven’t shown much affection in front of them all weekend, so there’s no real need to do it now. Unless he wants to ease his mother’s mind, in which case, makes sense. But—

“You thinking deep thoughts over there?” Maddox asks quietly.

I shake my head and mumble, “Confusing thoughts.”

“Welcome to my world.” His smile is easy and his panic from earlier gone.

I wonder if he’s suffering some sort of PTKD—post-traumatic kissing disorder—and has blocked it out already.

The fire barely does anything to keep us warm in the late February cold, but the blanket draped over us is thick and does the job.

My lungs fill with fresh air and smoke. The sky looks as it should outside of the city. I grew up on Long Island, so I’m not used to seeing so many stars. I went camping upstate once when I was thirteen with my best friend, Eric, and his family. Staring up at the sky, I try to spot the constellation that looks like a dick. I couldn’t see it when I was a kid, and I guess I won’t find it now. Maybe Eric was messing with me. He’s a pro at that.

“Your aunt Cheri called while you were at the wedding,” Maddox’s mom says.

“How is crazy Aunt Cheri?” Maddox asks and then turns to me. “She’s seriously a nut. You know how people say they’re gonna run off and join the circus? Mom’s sister did it.”

“She does not travel with a circus,” Alana says, her tone exasperated. “She’s a psychic. She travels with others and does astrology readings and all that stuff.”

“Exactly. Circus,” Maddox says. “She dresses like a hippie and calls herself a free spirit.”

“You might not believe in all that mumbo jumbo, but how do you explain the fact she hasn’t called in months and calls tonight looking for you?” The light flickering across Alana’s face from the fire makes her look smug.

Maddox rolls his eyes. “Coincidence. Why was she looking for me?”

“She’s coming into town next month and she wants to see you. Talk to you about … some things.”

Maddox is too busy looking at his mom to notice his dad tense beside her. Guess he’s not a fan of his crazy sister-in-law.

“What things?” Maddox asks.

“I don’t know, Maddy, why don’t you come home and ask her yourself next month?”

He leans forward. “Can’t she come to New York?”

“Is it really that hard to come home again?” Alana’s words hold mother’s guilt—something my own mother has perfected over the years. A woman’s brain must change after giving birth, or their guilt gene kicks in, because mothers have it down to an art.

My mom pulled the guilt card last year when I ditched Stacy’s graduation ceremony to hang out with Eric. She didn’t understand I was in a bad place with him because of stupid, stupid shit that wasn’t worth losing a twenty-year friendship over, but I couldn’t come out and tell her that’s why I skipped out. And to think, if I had gone to Stacy’s graduation, I would’ve met Maddox then. Would’ve been better than what I ended up doing that night.

“I’ll try.” Maddox sips his beer.

Mother’s guilt wins again.

“It’s a shame Tommy had a home game this weekend,” Alana says. “If he was away, Jacie and the kids could’ve come to see you. He’s gone so much during the season; they need family time when he’s home.”

“Tommy?” I ask. Boston player named Tommy … Holy fucking shit. “Your brother-in-law is Tomik ‘Tommy’ Novak? No fucking way.” My eyes widen. “Sorry for swearing, Mr. and Mrs. O’Shay, but that is seriously cool.”

“We’re fucking Irish, we don’t care about swearing,” Colin says.

“How did you not know about Tommy?” his mom asks.

Oops.

“I didn’t tell him,” Maddox says. “Maybe I didn’t want Damon to use me to get to Tommy.”

Yet, he offered him up anyway. My meeting is with Tommy Novak? There’s no way he’d dump his agent for a newbie like me …

I let out an exasperated grunt when I work it out. Maddox never told me who it was because he knew I wouldn’t have accepted the terms. Meeting with Tommy would be a complete waste of time at this stage of my career. When Maddox said high profile, I thought he was overselling and possibly knew someone on the farm team for Boston. I didn’t realize he was underselling. He should’ve said hockey god.

“Tommy-fucking-Novak,” I mumble. “He’s like the biggest player in the NHL this season. Superstar forward for Boston. Traded from New York a few years back. He’s scored more goals this year than any other player. He—”

Maddox puts his hand on mine to make me stop talking. “I get it. You’re a fan.” He leans in and whispers, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my side of the bargain.”

I slink back in my seat. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, hell yeah, I’d want to meet him, but there’s no way someone like Tommy will sign with a green agent like me.” I should be pissed, because this has been a waste of my time, but I’m not. Perhaps it’s because I actually like Maddox. Had I known him before all of this, I would’ve volunteered to come back with him without the incentive.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell him,” Alana says.

“I would have eventually,” Maddox says.

I shrug. “It’s not like it’s baseball. Had you been related to Zach Pritchett and not told me, I would’ve broken up with him.”

His mom eyes us warily, so I wrap my arm around Maddox and pull him closer. His breath hitches when my mouth lands near his ear. “Your mom’s suspicious,” I whisper as if I’m telling him sweet nothings. “Smile as if I’m being romantic.”

Instead, he laughs. With a quick kiss to his temple, I pull away but keep my arm around him. He tenses briefly when my lips land on him, but he relaxes again just as fast. Rubbing a soothing hand over his shoulder probably isn’t a good idea, so I keep as awkwardly still as possible.

His parents ask me question after question about my family, and they’re shocked when they find out I grew up in New York and I’m not a thug. Or that I’ve never been mugged. I have to bite back a laugh. There’s more small talk, but every time there’s a lull in conversation, his mom glances between the two of us again and her face takes on an analytical expression. She looks like me when I’m trying to do algebra. I’m all right with math until the alphabet gets involved.

The cold air gets colder somehow, and I move in closer to Maddox to block some of the breeze.

“I know what you’re doing, dickhead,” he mutters with a smile. “We should swap places. You’re wider than me.”

“Then I’ll be cold,” I complain.

“But I won’t be.”

Maddox’s dad gets out of his seat and throws another log on the fire. “That should be good for another two hours, boys. We’re heading to bed.”

“We are?” Alana asks. He walks over to her and offers his hand and then leads her toward the house. “Okay, I guess we are.”

“They’re so cute,” I say.

“If you say so. I’m worried about the glimmer in Dad’s eye.” Maddox shudders. “Parents aren’t supposed to get freaky. Especially when their son is visiting.” He shudders some more. “You, ah, can let go of me now. They’re gone.”

“But I’m not holding onto you for show. I’m freezing my nuts off.”

Maddox laughs. “We can go inside if you want.”

“Nah, if your parents are going at it, I don’t want to be hearing that.”

“Dude. No. I can’t un-see those thoughts.” He leans forward and hangs his head in his hands.

My arm drops, and I pull it under the blanket to keep it warm now it’s not being heated by Maddox’s body.

“About our deal …” I say. “As much as I’d love a chance at representing someone like Tommy-fucking-Novak—”

“He’s still a human being, you know.”

“Nah, he’s a hockey god. But it’s all good. You don’t have to introduce us. I’m officially taking back our deal.”

“Nope. Consider it done. It’s the least I can do after what I’ve put you through this weekend.” Maddox sits up straighter. “I guess now would be when to say—”

“If you apologize one more time, I may have to kick your ass. I’ve never been in a physical fight in my entire life—got into a few yelling matches with an umpire during a game—but I’ve got muscles. I’m sure they could do some damage.”

Maddox’s smile has a dimple appearing in his chiseled face. “I was going to say I should give you an explanation.”

“Not my place. You don’t owe me anything. We kissed. You liked it. Now you’re confused. It’s got nothing to do with me.” I don’t want to shut him out, but the needy side of me wants him to say he wants more, and I can’t be that guy. I don’t want to be Maddox’s sexual guinea pig, and I already have a tiny crush on the guy, so he needs to work this out on his own. Harsh, maybe, but I can’t go through this again.

“How do you know I liked it?” he asks defensively.

I cock my eyebrow at him, because we both know I felt how hard he was when his tongue was in my mouth.

“Okay fine, I more than liked it. Which … okay … so … and—”

“You do know you’re not constructing a sentence right now? Scotch make speech good?”

“There’s no more scotch in me.” Maddox’s knee bounces. “I wish there was, because this is hard to say. The only person I ever told was Will.”

“Is that why he was scowling at me at the wedding?”

“Probably. He thinks I’m going to get all fucked up over you like I did with …” He draws in a deep breath. “Like I did with my roommate in college.”

My ears—and shamefully, my cock—prick up at that.

“You know how I said I had a thing for your sister freshman year?”

“Yeah …”

“One of the nights I struck out with her, I went back to the frat house and my roommate was asleep. Or, I thought he was. I …” He takes in another deep breath. “You know that unspoken rule where if your roommate’s jerking off, you pretend it’s not happening?”

My eyes narrow. “You were jerking off in your room, while your roommate was asleep but not?”

“Right. Anyway, he asked if I needed a hand, and—”

“Smooth.”

“I thought it was his way of being all ‘Stop whacking off, I’m awake over here.’ So I stopped. But it was his way of …”

“Actually asking if you wanted a hand?”

“Right. Well, a mouth.” Maddox shifts in his seat, and the light from the fire shows off his flushed cheeks. “At first, I was all ‘What the fuck, I’m not gay.’ And he said he wasn’t either. He said he and his high school buddy used to give each other brojobs all the time.”

“Brojobs,” I repeat like a moron. I hate that term—always have. “Okay, so your roommate gave you a blowjob?”

“Sort of, umm … yeah. Uh, multiple, actually. It kind of became a running joke between us that he’d only do it on weekends.”

“Did you … enjoy it?” Why am I asking that? It doesn’t matter whether he did or not. I shouldn’t care.

“The first few times I closed my eyes and pretended he was a chick. But, really, it was a wet, hot mouth on a horny eighteen-year-old’s cock. What do you think?”

I chuckle but it comes out as a harsh breath. “Right. Of course, what was I thinking? Maybe that straight guys generally don’t like gay guys manipulating them into fooling around, but whatever.”

Maddox’s brow furrows. “Matt’s not gay. It wasn’t like that. He gave me plenty of chances to say no and constantly asked if I was okay with it. There was no manipulation on his part. And I never touched him. I didn’t offer to return the favor, and he never asked.”

“Matt? Matty and Maddy? How cute.” Why am I getting defensive and tight-chested, and—oh, fuck no. I can’t be … jealous. I was literally just thinking I can’t be Maddox’s sexual experiment, and now I’m pissed he’s been with another guy before.

“Matt claims to be heteroflexible.”

I scoff. “Right. Only gay on weekends. Got it.”

“What’s with the pissed-off tone?” Now he’s getting defensive, but he’s right. I have to tone down the attitude.

I try to tame my irrational side and go for the coverup excuse. “First off, heteroflexible is a term someone uses when they don’t want to admit they’re bi. If you’re sexually attracted to both males and females, even if you’ll only have relationships with one gender, congratulations, you’re still bi. Pretty simple philosophy. But do you know a lot of straight guys who’ll willingly give blowjobs for nothing in return? Your man is gay.”

Maddox’s mouth drops open but nothing comes out.

“Sorry if that bursts some kind of bubble you were living in.”

“Well, fuck.”