Contents
Title page
Copyright
Collin
Damon
Collin
Damon
Collin
Damon
Collin
Damon
Collin
About the Author
Books by Rebecca James
The Bogus Boyfriend
By Rebecca James
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
The Bogus Boyfriend
Copyright © 2019 by Rebecca James
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted on the cover is a model.
Cover Artist: Kim Katil
Edited by: DJ Jamison and Anita Ford
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.
Collin
I thumbed through the texts from the guys, all of them asking where I was and what was taking me so long. For the second time, Braden sent the address of Hot Shots, the bar where we’d agreed to meet. My finger hovered over the screen as I seriously considered lying and saying I’d missed my flight.
God, this was going to be so humiliating.
A photo popped up of Braden, arm wrapped around some hunk, with the text, Hurry and join the fun! Back in high school, Braden always had someone new, and, judging from his social media postings over the past ten years, he hadn’t changed.
And I couldn’t manage to have just one boyfriend.
I’d really believed that by now I would. Even a month ago, I’d thought I’d have someone to invite on this trip with me. I’d confidently told the guys I’d be bringing someone and never told them otherwise.
And here I was in a New York City, all alone, preparing to swallow my pride.
I sent a thumbs up and tapped out fifteen minutes. Grabbing my room card, I left my hotel room and headed for the elevators.
As I stepped on, I heard someone call for me to hold the door.
“Thanks,” a gorgeous guy wearing a faded leather jacket and jeans that hugged his long legs gave me a bright smile before turning to face the closing doors. “I’ve been waiting for the elevator on the other side of the floor for ages. Must be broken.”
Never good at small talk, I just smiled back and muttered, “No problem.”
The elevator sank a floor and the doors opened to a group of three older women who talked excitedly before exiting two floors down.
My phone pinged with another photo, this one of all the guys and their dates. My stomach sank, and I stuffed my phone into the pocket of my jacket.
The guy in the leather jacket was leaning against the wall, watching me.
“You a tourist?” he asked.
“That obvious?” I asked, wondering what gave me away.
The guy grinned, showing off even, white teeth. “You just look a little mid-western suburbs.” He shrugged his wide shoulders. The dark scruff on his chin and the tattoos peeking out of the sleeves of his jacket gave him a rough appearance. I was surprised at how sexy I found him, as I typically went for the clean-cut, boy-next-door look.
“I live in Nashville, actually,” I said. “But I’m originally from Indiana, so I guess that explains it. I’m here to see some old friends. We’re meeting at a local bar.”
“You don’t look very excited about it. In fact, you look like you want to puke,” the guy said.
Great. Exactly how I wanted to appear to a gorgeous, cool guy.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened, but there no one was there. I pressed the button to close them, coming close enough to the guy to catch a hint of his spicy aftershave.
When he flicked open the top two buttons of my shirt, I almost swallowed my tongue.
“That’s a better look for a bar,” he said with another grin just before the elevator came to a slamming halt that threw me forward into his beefy arms.
For two very long seconds, every inch of the guy’s muscled, attractive body pressed against mine as the lights flickered in the elevator.
“What’s going on?” I asked nervously, putting an acceptable distance between us again.
The guy didn’t seem embarrassed about having had his arms around me. Maybe he was gay.
The elevator went dark and a small emergency light near the ceiling popped on. The guy pushed a couple of buttons on the panel without result before hitting the one labeled intercom.
“Maintenance,” a voice crackled over the speaker.
“Yeah, our elevator’s stuck at the eighth floor,” my companion said.
“We’ve had some trouble with the elevators today. We’ll get on it,” the voice said.
Sighing, the guy shrugged at me before sitting on the floor, arms resting on bent knees. “Looks like we’re stuck.”
“Stuck?” I asked, looking down at him.
“Yep.” He patted the floor beside him. “No point in standing. I’m sure it’ll be a while.”
My phone pinged in my pocket. Braden wanted to know where the hell I was.
I tapped out what was going on, started to send it, and my phone went dead. Fuck. I’d forgotten to charge it. Could things get any shittier?
“You okay?” The guy asked. “Claustrophobia?”
I sat down catty corner to him and leaned my head against the wall. “No. Just…not looking forward to tonight.”
“My name’s Damon,” he held out his hand to shake, palm warm and dry. I hoped mine wasn’t sweaty.
“Collin.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, how come you’re not looking forward to meeting up with your friends?”
Although I was humiliated to admit my situation to this gorgeous man, Damon was easy to talk to, and I needed an outlet.
“I haven’t seen any of them in person in ten years. They’re all leading exciting lives, and here I am, a boring computer programmer with nothing going on in my life.”
“Computer programming is a successful occupation. You should be proud.”
I shrugged. “I just don’t get out much.” Here was the really embarrassing part. “And I kind of…made them think I was bringing my boyfriend with me.”
Damon didn’t appear surprised or put off I was gay. “He couldn’t come?”
“He doesn’t exist.” I couldn’t help chuckling as I ran my hand over my face; the whole situation was so stupid. I spoke without thinking. “If this were a rom com, you’d offer to be my fake boyfriend for the night.” My face immediately filled with heat. “I mean, if you were gay and…uh, completely out of your mind.”
Damon barked out a surprised laugh.
“I am gay, actually. And sure, I’ll be your fake boyfriend for the night. Sounds like fun.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Oh, I…I was only kidding!”
“It would solve your problem, wouldn’t it? And I don’t have anything to do tonight. I was just going down to the dining room for a bite to eat.”
My mind whirred. “We’ll be doing things all weekend. Thank you for offering, though. That’s, like, the nicest thing anyone’s ever tried to do for me.”
“I’m here to visit my grandmother in the hospital. I don’t have anything else going on,” Damon said easily like the situation wasn’t completely weird.
Could this guy really be this nice? Or was he a serial killer, and I was crazy for even considering it?
Damon pulled out his phone from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “This is my grandmother.” He showed me a picture of an older
lady with a big smile that looked a lot like his. He swiped the screen. “And this is the two of us together.” The picture looked a few years old. Damon sat with the older lady on a porch swing, her hand enfolded in his. The photo was so sweet, it tugged at my heart. Family was something I’d always wanted. The next photo was of Damon and a big dog.
“Nice dog,” I said, even more jealous. I loved dogs.
His smile was sad. “That’s Frodo. He died last year.” He re-pocketed his phone and leaned back against the wall. A loud clank from outside the doors told us someone was working on the elevator.
“Sorry about your dog,” I said. “You a Lord of the Rings fan?”
He smiled. “Guilty.”
“They were good movies. Almost as good as the books.”
“Never read the books,” Damon admitted.
“You really should. There’s so much more in them.”
Now we could hear voices outside the door. “We’ll have you out in a minute!” someone called.
Getting to his feet, Damon said, “Collin, I’m serious about being your fake boyfriend.” He held out a hand to help me up. “Unless you don’t want to lie to your friends. That’s understandable.”
“They’re not good friends,” I said. “I mean, we’ve kept in touch through Facebook and stuff, but not a lot. We were the only gay guys in our school, and we migrated together. We thought it would be fun to see where we all were in ten years and promised to meet up. I told them a few months ago I’d be bringing someone. I don’t know why I thought I would; I never date.” I felt my cheeks warming up again. I didn’t know why I told Damon that part; I had to look pathetic enough as it was. He was just really easy to talk to.
“It’s your call. I honestly don’t have anything going on except visiting my grandmother, and I can only do that during certain hours.”
I realized I was considering it. The whole thing was crazy. I bit my lip. “I’m not sure we can pull it off. We don’t even know each other.”
“We can say we haven’t been dating long,” Damon said. He grinned. “This is going to be fun!”
I couldn’t believe he really thought so, but he really seemed to. When the elevator doors slid open, I rushed to agree. I’d have to be crazy not to take him up on the offer. Not only would I not have to be embarrassed in front of the guys, but I’d get to pretend to be dating this gorgeous, tough-looking guy.
“The bar we’re going to is supposed to have food,” I told him as we exited the hotel. “So we can eat. I haven’t had dinner either.”
“Sounds good.” Damon lifted his hand and a cab slid over to the curb.
When we climbed out in front of Hot Shots, I glanced at Damon. “You really sure about this? You can back out, no hard feelings.”
He wrapped his arm around me. He was taller and broader than I was, the top of my head coming to his mouth.
“I’m not gonna back out,” he said. “I meant it when I said this would be fun. Really.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Stop worrying and go with it. You have a good job and a nice boyfriend and can hold your head up around these guys.”
He was right. I slipped my arm around his waist as he opened the door to the bar and grill. “A gorgeous and very compassionate boyfriend,” I said, smiling just a little flirtatiously at him. He looked surprised before laughing and walking inside with me.
The lighting in the establishment was low and the interior crowded. I searched the room for my friends, finally spotting them at a corner table.
“Here we go,” I said nervously. Damon linked our fingers and gave me a smile. Unexpectedly, he leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. “It’s going to be fine.”
I nodded, lips tingling, and led him to the table.
“Finally!” Andrew, or Andi, said, getting to his feet and giving me a hug. I panicked when he looked expectantly at Damon, and I suddenly realized I didn’t even know Damon’s last name.
“Damon Bivens.” Damon stuck out his hand to shake, and I made quick introductions all around.
I’d known everyone had a date from the pictures they’d sent, but being there made it all so much more real. I was suddenly extremely glad to have Damon there with me. I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him. My cock wanted to do more, and I shifted slightly on my seat, watching Damon easily make friends with everyone at the table.
Braden, who was a hairstylist there in New York City, sat beside an older man with graying hair and a beard who introduced himself as Max. Braden was even more flamboyant than he’d been in high school, his clothes colorful and chic, and his hand gestures sweeping.
“I thought for sure you weren’t coming,” he said after kissing me on both cheeks. “Your phone kept going to voice mail.”
“It died,” I said. “We were stuck in the elevator at the hotel.”
“God, I hate elevators,” Andi said. “They’re always fucking breaking down.”
Damon and I ordered beers from the waiter, and Chad pushed a basket of cheese sticks our way.
“Good flight?” he asked.
“Uneventful,” I said, suddenly nervous again. Damon and I hadn’t had time to discuss much on the way there. I glanced at him. He looked completely at ease, one arm slung over the back of my chair.
Chad leaned into his husband, Barry’s, embrace. They looked good together. I remembered that they’d just had their second anniversary and had spent it in New Mexico; I’d seen the photos on Instagram. I asked about the trip.
As Chad was talking, Damon pressed his leg against mine under the table. I almost choked on my bite of cheese stick. His big body was a furnace, and I wanted to climb onto his lap and burn. Instead, I adjusted my glasses and told myself to calm down. Damon was doing me an awesome favor, but that didn’t mean he wanted to sleep with me.
“What do you do for a living, Damon?” Max asked.
Damon wiped beer from his upper lip. “I’m in construction.”
“Must be where you got that awesome body,” Braden said, looking over Damon’s wide shoulders and chest.
Max cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m right here.”
“Sorry, hun, but look at him!” Braden flicked his hand out and gestured at Damon as though he were a limited edition Birkin bag on a shelf. “Hell, Collin, how’d you nab him? I’d think you wouldn’t meet any hot guys like him nestled away in your little cubicle doing coding.” The other guys chuckled, and just like that, my self-esteem plummeted.
Until Damon said, “Smart turns me on. We’ve had more than a few good times in that cubicle, if you know what I mean.”
My entire body heated up.
The conversation flowed freely after that, and before I knew it, a couple of hours had gone by.
“What are we gonna get up to tomorrow?” Andi asked when we were pulling out our wallets to pay. Damon and I had shared a basket of hot wings, and I was feeling full and a little buzzed.
“Greg and I thought taking one of those double decker buses around the city would be fun,” Andi said. Andi was an average type I never would have put with Greg, who wore earrings in both ears, had a shaved head, and had the word RAGE tattooed on the knuckles of his left hand. But they seemed to get along well and even complement one another. I’m sure he thought I looked just as weird with a guy like Damon, but, of course, we weren’t really dating.
“Sounds good,” Damon said, looking to me for confirmation, and I smiled and nodded.
“God, how boring,” Braden said. “I have to work. We can meet up for dinner if you want. There’s a Thai place to die for near my shop.”
We all agreed. Chad and his husband were staying at a hotel not far from ours, and we walked back together. It was a balmy May night and looking at the city, you couldn’t tell it was nearly 2 a.m.
“The city that never sleeps is right,” I said.
Damon squeezed my hand. “I love New York.”
I wanted to ask him if he’d ever lived there, but that would seem weird to Chad and Barry since I was supposed to k
now stuff like that about my own boyfriend. I did know he lived in Pittsburgh. When we reached the hotel, we said goodbye to Chad and Barry and went inside.
“Thank you so much for doing this,” I said to Damon when we arrived on our floor, the elevator thankfully working fine.
“I had fun,” Damon said.
“I’m glad. Braden can be a real ass. He hasn’t changed much since high school.”
“I got the feeling Max handles him well,” Damon said, innuendo heavy in his tone.
I thought about it. Max did give off some Daddy vibes. I hoped he’d give Braden one hell of a spanking when they got home.
“You were really great,” I told him. “Especially saying what you did about the smart guys turning you on.” I had dark hair and pale skin that could turn a fierce scarlet when I was embarrassed, as I was right then. I ducked my head, hoping Damon wouldn’t notice. We’d walked to the place where the corridor split.
“My room’s that way.” Damon pointed to the left.
“Mine’s that way.” I indicated to the right. I wished I had it in me to ask him to go to my room with me. Most guys wouldn’t think twice about it, but I was so inexperienced, I knew I’d never get the words out right. And what if he said no?
“I wasn’t lying,” Damon turned and pulled me into a kiss that sent all my thoughts scattering. I snaked my arms around his back and held onto his shoulders while his lips moved over mine. God, it was so good. I’d kissed guys before—less than half a dozen, but still—and none of the kisses had ever been this good.
Damon rested his hand on my neck, and I wondered if he could feel how fast my pulse was beating. I bunched up the leather of his jacket with my fingers and opened my mouth to him, breath hitching when our tongues slid over one another.
“When do you visit your grandmother?” I whispered against his lips when we parted.
“Visiting hours are at ten. Do you want to meet for breakfast and then go with me?” He looked at me hopefully. I couldn’t believe he wanted that. I was so stunned, it took me a moment to answer, and he said, “If you have other plans, that’s okay. I can just meet up with you before we meet your friends.”
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