Fake Out (Fake Boyfriend Book 1)

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Fake Out (Fake Boyfriend Book 1) Page 21

by Eden Finley


  “What?” I ask.

  “Was waiting for someone who overheard you to jump out.”

  “I really should learn to shut my mouth.”

  “Or put it to good use.”

  When our lips meet, I’m in a tortured heaven. I can’t believe I almost walked away from this. This guy owns me, and it’s killing me that I fucked up.

  “Maybe we should save this for Canada,” Damon says. “You know, where your parents aren’t eavesdropping or watching.”

  “The next five hours are going to be the longest of my life.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  DAMON

  Apparently when Maddox is sorry, he really fucking means it. We’re both exhausted and covered in cum and sweat by the time we’re done. We checked into a hotel overlooking the falls two days ago and didn’t waste any time. We haven’t seen the light of day since. With room service and a spa bath in our hotel bathroom, it’s been totally worth calling into work and pretending to be sick.

  “I can’t move,” he says.

  “Then don’t.”

  He’s on his stomach, his head buried in his pillow, and I’m panting next to him.

  “My phone,” he grumbles.

  “Is that your way of asking me to get it?”

  “Yes.”

  With an exaggerated sigh, I climb out of bed and smack his naked ass. “You’re lucky you’re good-looking.”

  “Or what, you wouldn’t fuck me?”

  “Oh, I’d fuck you, but I wouldn’t fetch your phone.” I locate it on the floor near his discarded pants and throw it at him.

  While I stand here admiring him, he types out a text. Even though I’m spent, I want to tackle him and wrap myself around him.

  I find my jeans and get dressed instead, using my shirt to clean up as much as possible. We should probably take a break. I pull back the curtain to stare at the falls, but my own phone goes off with an alert, letting me know a new apartment listing was just added that matches my search.

  “Your sister’s texting, wondering why I’m not at work and if we sorted our shit,” Maddox says.

  “Did you tell her we’re in Canada?”

  “Yup. She yelled at me for leaving her out. I told her we haven’t left the hotel room in two days, and now she’s thanking me.”

  I laugh. “You’re only with me to freak out my sister, aren’t you?”

  “Nah, that’s just a bonus.” He holds out his hand and beckons me back to bed, but I don’t move.

  “Shouldn’t we go see the falls at some point? Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  “Says the guy on his phone.”

  I lift my chin in his direction, gesturing to the fact he’s doing the exact same thing.

  “What are you looking at?” he asks.

  “Apartment listings,” I say absently.

  Maddox frowns and opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Come back to bed. We’ll do the falls tomorrow. We can spend all day in Canada and drive back to New York in the afternoon.”

  “Isn’t the point of traveling to see things and do touristy shit?”

  “Nope. It’s to make memories. And you know what I’m going to think about when someone talks about Niagara Falls? I’ll remember my awesome boyfriend fucking me until I’m legless.”

  “Well when you put it like that …” With a flick of my wrist, I pop the button on my jeans and am naked again within seconds.

  “I have a confession to make,” Maddox says as soon as I climb into bed next to him.

  My arms snake around him and bring him close to me so his head is on my chest. “You’re actually married and have three kids.”

  “You know about Stella and the triplets?”

  “Stella? Really?”

  He shrugs. “First name I could think of. What I was going to say is I think I knew I loved you weeks ago.”

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  “Uh, you were fucking me with a dildo when it happened. Didn’t think it was the best time to bring it up.”

  I burst into laughter.

  “But really, I don’t think I understood that’s what it was at the time. I remember thinking you were everything to me, but given the circumstances, that might’ve been my dick talking. Only now I realize it was the first time I knew you were my future, and that doesn’t scare me.”

  “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 g
o.

  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.”

  Stacy scoffs. “You? Violent? Okay.”

  “You’re forgetting my form of violence—I get you to do it for me. My little attack dog, you.” I wrap my arm around her and give her a noogie.

  “Careful or I’ll turn my violence onto you.”

  “Never. You love me.”

  “I do. I’m happy to have you in my life.”

  My eyes narrow. “But?”

  “No but. You’re my best friend.” Tears pool in her eyes.

  “Are you dying?”

  She shoves me. “I can’t be serious every once in a while?”

  “No.”

  “Whatever, I hate you again.”

  “There’s my Stacy.”

  We watch the commencement speech and wait three hundred hours for Damon to take the stage. My leg goes dead at one point as pins and needles shoot down to my feet. Stacy laughs at my pain. Yeah, she really loves me. But not as much as the guy claiming his degree right now. The pride I have for Damon rivals that of his parents.

  “Wait for it,” Stacy says.

  Dread replaces the proud feeling warming my stomach. “What did you do?”

  She grins.

  “Stacy …”

  As Damon crosses the stage to accept his diploma, the world slows down. It’s like a scene from a movie where the hero knows what’s going to happen but can’t stop it in time.

  A confetti cannon goes off early.

  Stacy jumps up and down and claps. She’s not seeing what I am. The cannon is too close to the stage. Yeah, it’s shooting paper, but put that much pressure behind it and it can turn into the weight of a baseball. And that weight launches itself at my boyfriend’s head.

  Stacy pales when her brother drops to the stage. Gasps come from the audience, but I’m already halfway through the crowd to get to him.

  Damon’s out cold.

  “Babe,” I say frantically. Weird, I never call him babe—that’s his thing—but in my panicked state, it slips out.

  My hand cradles his cheek. With a groan, he leans into my hand but doesn’t open his eyes.

  “Someone call an ambulance,” I say.

  “Ambulance?” Stacy croaks next to me. She followed me up here.

  “What did you do?” I yell at her.

  “It was a … it was a prank. I paid a guy to set off the confetti early so it happened when Damon was called. It wasn’t meant to—”

  “Goddamn it, Stacy.”

  “I’m okay,” Damon says, suddenly awake. He tries to sit up. “But the ground is upside down.” He lies back and closes his eyes.

  “Shit, he probably has a concussion,” I say.

  When the paramedics arrive, which takes way too fucking long for my liking, I don’t hesitate climbing in the back of the ambulance with him. He’s in and out of consciousness the whole way, complaining of the bright light every time he opens his eyes.

  As soon as we get to the hospital, they take him for a CT scan, and I’m told to wait in the ER.

  Illogical and selfish as it is, all I can think about is the fact Damon and I are going to miss the hockey game tonight. I was going to surprise him and finally get him that meet and greet with my brother-in-law—the hockey god, or whatever.

  I take out my phone and message my sister what happened, letting her know we wouldn’t make the game, but the King clan enters the ER waiting room before she can respond.

  For the first time since I’ve known Stacy, she looks sheepish. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to do that. It was a ‘Yay, Damon!’ type thing. No one else got confetti with their names. I wanted to do it for him.”

  “Maybe no one got confetti because no one should’ve been on stage when the cannons went off,” I say.

  “How was I to know that?” she whines. “The guy I paid off should have.”

  I can’t be mad at her. This is who Stacy is.

  “This does make me think I should ease up on the pranks.”

  “Ya think?” I ask.

  “I mean, paying off people costs a lot these days.”

  I shake my head. “You’re a horrible human being.”

  “Yep.” She smiles but it falls quickly. “Is he going to be okay? I do have half a heart and know it’s inappropriate to joke about this if I accidentally killed my brother.”

  “Paramedics said he’s showing signs of a concussion but should be fine,” I say.

  “But they’re not doctors,” Stacy says. “EMTs know shit all.”

  “Makes me feel a lot better. Thanks, Stace,” I say.

  “Shit. Sorry. I’m sure he’s going to be fine.”

  We wait in that waiting room for over an hour. In that time, I pace, drink acid-flavored coffee, and glare at Stacy.

  “King family?” A doctor asks, coming into the waiting area. We all stand. “Damon’s got a mild concussion—a lot less serious than we originally thought.”

  I release a loud breath of relief.

  “We need to keep him overnight for observation, but he can have visitors. Who’s first?”

  I look at his parents but they’re looking at me. “I guess that’s, uh, me. I’m his partner.”

  “Aww,” Stacy croons. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you refer to him as your partner.”

  “Shut it,” I say through gritted teeth.

  I’m led back to a room where Damon’s fully conscious. His graduation gown is folded on the seat next to him, and he’s in his regular clothes.

  “What, no sexy hospital gown for me to perv on you?”

  “I’m going to kill my sister,” he says.

  “Get in line.” I approach and kiss his cheek. “So, concussion, huh? Is that one of those conditions where I’m not allowed to give you bad news?”

  “Don’t think so. Why? What’s the bad news?”

  “I was going to surprise you tonight. Tommy gave me tickets to the New York versus Boston game.”

  “I’m fine.” He tries to get out of bed but as soon as he sits up, he wobbles. “I’m good. Seriously. I wanna go to the game.”

  I push him back down. “You’re not fine. You have
a concussion. We can’t go where there’s bright lights and lots of noise. You can meet Tommy another time.”

  “Or right now.”

  My brother-in-law stands at the entrance to Damon’s room, along with one of his teammates and my sister.

  “Jacie told us what happened,” Tommy says.

  “Holy shit,” Damon says. “You’re …” His gaze flits between Tommy and his teammate. “And you’re Ollie Strömberg. Do concussions cause hallucinations? Don’t you two have a game right now?”

  “We’re not due at the rink for another hour,” Tommy says.

  “I’ve had a concussion before,” Ollie says. “When I was on the farm team. Almost cost me my career. When Tommy said what happened, I said I’d tag along. Tough break, man.”

  Tommy puts his arm around Ollie. “And this guy is also interested in setting up a meeting when you’re back on your feet.”

  “My current agency is screwing me on a contract extension, and there’s been rumors of a trade,” Ollie says.

  “Uh … umm …” Damon stammers.

  I lean in and whisper, “Dude, you’re a sports agent. Be cool. One would think you’ve never met a famous athlete before.”

  Damon shakes his head and then winces. “Sorry. Kinda wish this wasn’t happening while I had tiny jackhammers going off in my head, but yeah, definitely. Meeting.”

  While they talk over the details of when they can meet, Jacie comes to me and wraps her arms around me. “Hey, little brother.”

  “Don’t you mean cuz?”

  “Whatever. You’ll always be my weird little brother.”

  I laugh. “Thanks, Jacie. I see you managed to dump the kids for the night.”

  “Mom and Dad are happy to see the grandkids, and Tommy and I got a hotel room. You want to come out for drinks after the game and catch up?”

  I glance at Damon in bed and hesitate. “I should probably—”

  “Yes, he’ll go out,” Damon says. “Visiting hours will be over by then, and you never see your sister. All I’m going to be doing is getting woken up every two hours to make sure I don’t die.”

  “My boyfriend’s a little dramatic,” I say to the others, and they snicker.

  “Seriously, Maddy. Go out. I’ll be fine.”

  I turn to Jacie. “Text me where to meet you after the game.”

 

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