Fake Out: Chapter 7

Damon psychoanalyzed Matt in a few mere sentences and reached a conclusion that made so much more sense than what Will and I could figure out. That’s where I went wrong. I went to a straight dude for advice when it all happened.

The thing is, I’m downplaying what Matt and I had. The first few times, I did pretend he was a girl. Perhaps it was easier for me to handle that way. But then it started happening regularly, and I loved watching him as he went down on me. I loved gripping his short hair while I thrust into his mouth which was rough against my skin because of his stubble. And maybe, I chased after Stacy for longer than I would have any other girl because every time I was rejected, my consolation prize was a blowjob from my roommate. Part of me wonders if I was even trying with Stacy in the end.

I looked forward to my nights with Matt, but I never found it in me to take it further or ask him for more.

The closest I got was asking him to visit me in summer housing while I interned at a marketing firm over the break. He flat-out said no. Said we had fun, I was a great roommate, and he’d miss me the next year. It was like we broke up, even though we weren’t in a relationship. It was weird but not as confusing as the disappointment I had over him ending it.

Before I started my internship in the city, I went home for two nights and ended up spilling everything to Will.

A bottle of tequila later, we decided to test a theory. We went to a bar, and I watched every guy that entered. I wasn’t attracted to any of them. But every time I thought of Matt, my cock hardened in response.

Will, the rationalizing genius he is, came to the conclusion that it was something about my conscience not wanting to have been a complete jerk to Chastity and my explorations with a guy was my way of making my lie a half-truth. I thought that was bullshit, but it made for an excuse to dismiss the Matt situation. I chalked it up to college experimenting and let it go.

This weekend has brought it all back—how I wanted to ask Matt for more but didn’t have the courage. I want to ask Damon for more.

I didn’t think I’d be attracted to my fake boyfriend. I haven’t thought about Matt or another guy this way since junior year when he was drafted to the NFL.

“You okay?” Damon asks. “You’ve gone silent on me.”

“Just thinking,” I murmured.

“What happened with the roommate in the end?”

“Sophomore year, he moved out of the frat house and into the dorms, so I barely saw him. He was around campus occasionally, but we weren’t friends. I was half-convinced he hid from me for a year.”

“Wait, he was in a frat? That’d be enough for any guy to stay closeted. I had a hard enough time coming out to my teammates. They ended up being cool with it, but I wouldn’t have liked to have thrown in a frat on top of that.”

“My point in telling you all this is I put it down to experimenting, because since then, I haven’t been attracted to another guy.” I suck in a sharp breath. “Until you.”

Damon stares at me, his green eyes seeing through me, and that vulnerability I have around him seeps back in. “So, you’re bi.”

I pull back. “Huh?”

“Did you not hear my defining criteria? Attracted to both male and females. And I’m pretty sure I’m still a guy. I can go check in case it’s changed in the last few hours, but—”

I shove him. “Shut up. I’ve been attracted to two guys but countless women, so—”

“It’s not a fifty-fifty thing. I know a heap of people who have mostly hetero relationships but identify as bi. For some, it’s easy to meet others of the opposite sex. A friend from college only hooks up with men because he says it’s easier than having to woo a woman. Those are his words, by the way, not mine. I have no idea what it would take to get a woman into bed. I’ve never tried.”

I purse my lips. “Okay, so I’m bi.” It doesn’t sound right on my tongue. “But I’ve kissed one guy and gotten blowjobs from another. I kinda feel unqualified for the label.”

“What are straight people labeled as if they’ve never kissed another person? They’re still straight.”

I’ve never thought about it that way. “Interesting.”

Damon continues to study me, as if waiting for me to break down over it. “You okay?”

I have to think about it, because I don’t think it’s sunk in. Am I supposed to feel different?

“I think so. But I want to kiss you again.” I hold my breath. When he doesn’t reply immediately, I joke, “You know … for scientific purposes.”

Damon breaks his gaze and stares at the fire. That can’t be good. “Sorry, man. Don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“Why not?” I frown.

“Not into being used as an experimental thing. Been there, done that, have the broken heart to show for it. Not to get all emo on you or anything.”

“It’s not entirely about experimenting—I … I think I actually like you.” God, I sound twelve years old. “But it’s cool. I’m used to being rejected by you Kings.” I smile to cover my slightly dented ego.

Damon winces. “Can you please stop bringing up your crush on my sister? It weirds me out that the guy I kissed a few hours ago had a thing for her. I don’t share guys with Stacy. When I came out, she was worried I’d cut in on her action. I tried to explain to her that wouldn’t happen because, generally, guys who are interested in me wouldn’t be interested in her, but you’ve proved me wrong. So, thanks for that. No way in hell am I going to tell her she was right.”

I can’t hold in my laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve gone further with you than I ever did with her.”

“No. It really doesn’t.”

“You wanna tell me about the guy?”

“Nope.”

“Come on. I’m sitting over here going through an existential crisis—”

Damon snorts. “Yeah, you seem to be really suffering. You’re taking this whole thing better than I did when I first admitted to myself I liked guys. And that’s saying something, because I always knew—on some level.”

I shrug. “I guess I’m not all that shocked. I dunno, it makes … sense. The label doesn’t feel right, but the definition of it does. It certainly explains some shit I’ve been confused about since college. But I’ve shared, and now it’s your turn. Don’t make me feel like a loser on my own.”

Damon sips his warm beer. “This story is going to make you feel so much better about yourself. You know how every family has that other family they grow up with?”

“Like me and Will, you mean? Our parents are friends, we’ve been friends since grade school, and—”

“Exactly like that. My best friend, Eric, we did everything together as kids. He was the first person I came out to.”

“So exactly like me and Will.”

Damon shakes his head. “Nah. From the sound of it, Will didn’t give a shit you were hooking up with a guy.”

That’s true. I didn’t even second-guess telling him about it. I knew he wouldn’t care.

“I came out to Eric senior year of high school. He, uh … was one of those straight guys I told you about. The ones where they act cool but stiffen at the same time and tell you not to hit on them.”

“Is he why you’ve tensed every time this weekend when I’ve joked around?”

Damon nods and takes another sip of beer. “Thing is? With any other guy, had he said that, I would’ve told him to go fuck himself. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to hump the entire male population. And homophobia certainly isn’t a turn-on.”

“But it was different with Eric?”

Damon hangs his head. “Yeah. Had a huge crush on him since we hit puberty. Real Callum Scott ‘Dancing on My Own’ shit. I watched him go through girlfriends, have prom dates, homecoming dates—all that fun stuff I never took a date to because I wasn’t out and didn’t want to pretend with a girl. I never acted on my crush, never hinted, and made damn sure I didn’t make jokes about it, because I was terrified of him figuring it out. Eric was straight, and I told myself to forget about him. After I came out to him and we left high school, we drifted apart. He went to Yale, and I did my thing at Newport, but our families still got together over the holidays, so we still saw each other. Hell, his family came to my graduation ceremony, and mine to his. For the most part, it was the same between us, but he always acted … straighter around me.”

“What do you mean, straighter?”

“He emphasized his sex life whenever I saw him. Talked about his hookups nonstop, even though I kept my mouth shut about mine. When he moved back to the city, we started to hang out again, and I thought I was over him. I had countless boyfriends during college.”

“Manwhore,” I mutter to try to break the tension. I don’t like where this story is going.

Damon laughs. “Hey, Stacy’s told me plenty about your manwhorish ways. I’m a saint in comparison.”

“Fair enough.”

“Last year, he broke up with his long-term girlfriend, and we went out drinking.” Damon’s lips turn down as his face fills with regret. “We ended up kissing.”

“Did you make the first move or did he?”

“I’ve gone over that night so many times in my head, because I wasn’t sure. But you know how I said in certain situations I’ve always made sure to protect myself? Like in locker rooms and that? It was the same with Eric. I don’t know if he knew about my crush, or it was that I was gay and … there. But that night was all him. I’d gone years without kissing him, so I know it definitely wouldn’t have been me. I’ve overthought it so much I think my memories are starting to warp. Though, I remember him saying he wanted to kiss me because if I was a chick, I’d be the perfect person for him. I should’ve pushed him away, but I’d wanted it for so long. And then we wake up next to each other in the same bed, and he suddenly lets his homophobic freak fly.”

“Shit.”

“Everything he said was in the heat of the moment, but it made me feel like the shittiest person in the world.”

“What did he say?”

He swallows so hard I can see his Adam’s apple bounce. “That I manipulated him. That I took advantage while he was drunk. He said I knew he was straight, so it was up to me to put a stop to him. All we did was make out a little and some hand stuff, but it didn’t go any further than that. As drunk as we both were, I knew deep down it wasn’t going to end well. What we did was enough to freak him out.”

“I completely fucked up by kissing you, didn’t I?”

“It’s cool you’re discovering this new side to you, and that you’re not freaking out about it, but I can’t be the one to—”

“I’m sorry your friend is a dick.” And I’m pissed this Eric guy has ruined any chance I had to hook up with Damon, because now I’ve kissed him, I really want to do it again.

“I wish the story was done,” Damon says with a groan. “A few weeks after the incident, I get a phone call from him. Then a text. Like a good little puppy, I went to him and ditched out on my sister’s graduation. For him. He knew it was Stacy’s graduation, and then when I get there, he’s drunk and apologizing profusely and wants to go back to the way things were. Said he missed my friendship. I figured we’ve been friends our entire lives, right? Hooking up wasn’t worth losing him, so I forgave him.” The laugh that comes out of Damon is humorless. “Then he said he forgives me too. For letting it go that far.”

“He still blames you?”

“Yup.”

“Please tell me you’re not still friends with him?”

“Our families are friends. We spend Christmases together. It is what it is. We’re not as close as we once were, and I’m always making excuses to blow him off … wait, wrong choice of words. We’re friends, but if I didn’t have to see him and be civil, I’d cut him off. I don’t have feelings for him after what he did, but I can’t hate him.”

“I hate him for you.”

“Hey, Stacy doesn’t know—”

“She doesn’t know about me and Matt either. Prefer to keep it that way.”

“Deal. Are you going to tell her about your … uh, discovery?”

I have no idea. “Eventually, yeah. If I do it as soon as we get home, she’ll think I’m messing with her. Which reminds me, we’re soooo going home and telling her we’re in love.”

“Do I get a say in this idea?”

“Nope. All you have to do is stand there and look pretty.”

“God, I’m Switzerland. I don’t want to get in the middle of you two. But this trip has definitely been a confidence boost. I mean, if I’m so fucking hot that Maddox O’Shay, manwhore of OU, finds me attractive, what does that say about my sex appeal?”

“Hmm, not so attractive now your head is suddenly ten times bigger than it was an hour ago.”

Damon laughs and downs the rest of his beer. “Think your parents are done?”

I wince. “Eww. Now we’re stuck out here all night, because the risk of overhearing that is not worth it.”

“Come on, boyfriend. If my balls shrivel up any more, I really could become a woman.”

Pulling up to Damon’s apartment has me torn in two. On one hand, I’m glad that disaster of a weekend is over. On the other, I’m not ready for my relationship with him—fake or otherwise—to be finished.

“Thanks for the ride. Would’ve been better without all the Lady Gaga, but I guess you had to get it out of your system because you’re ‘allowed to listen to it now.’” He uses air quotes, and I’m trying so damn hard not to laugh.

“Baby, I was born this way.”

Damon’s lips twitch but he refuses to let himself break out into a smile.

“Come on, I’m messing with you, and it’s a little upsetting it’s taken this long for you to realize that. Are you sure you’re related to Stacy?”

“So this was all just to torture me?” Damon asks.

“How else am I going to annoy the guy who refuses to fool around with me?”

“So glad we’re joking about this already,” he says.

“Have to admit, it was a weird weekend.”

“Awkward. I would call it awkward. After two nights, you know more about me than my own family does.”

“I won’t tell a soul. Although, would you object if I track down this Eric guy and punch him? Because that sounds fun.” I wouldn’t, because I avoid conflict at all costs, but I’d like to.

Damon grins. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve moved past it. Really. And your secret is safe with me too.”

I want to yell at him that he hasn’t moved past it, because Eric obviously fucked him up enough to not trust I wouldn’t do the same thing. But I understand his hesitance. I can’t be one hundred percent sure I’d still be interested if we hooked up. No girl has ever been able to keep my attention, and now that I think about it, apart from Chastity, the one person I stayed with for longer than a weekend hookup was Matt. Yet, I had no idea I was bi until this weekend. One thing’s for sure, Mensa isn’t going to be knocking on my door any time soon. I wonder if they have an award for the most oblivious person in the world. I’d win, hands down.

“We’re cool, right?” I sound like a moron. “Like, can we hang out sometime?”

“Of course. I can introduce you to some guys if you like? Give me your phone.” Damon taps in his number and gives it back. “I usually catch up with my friends once a month or so. I can already see a few of them drooling over you. If you’re cool with me telling them about you, that is. I won’t out you to them if you’re not ready.”

My stomach plummets to the floor. I don’t want his friends. I want to do this with him. I force myself to not say that aloud though. He’s made it clear where he stands on the subject. “I don’t mind if you tell them. Although, I don’t know if I’m going to pursue this thing.”

“This thing?”

“The label still feels weird to me.” Logically, I know the bi label fits. But it’s just like going home to PA. My family’s there, I have friends there, being in Pennsylvania makes sense, but that doesn’t mean I fit in there. I wonder if it’s normal to not feel connected to your orientation. It doesn’t freak me out or worry me. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with yet. It doesn’t feel … real.

“Sorry. I’ve gone and pushed you into trying to define it,” Damon says. “When it comes to sexual orientation, to me, it’s either gay, bi, or straight. But not everybody thinks that way, and they don’t have to. That’s my opinion on it. I like being straightforward and fitting into a box, but you should do your own research and identify with whatever feels right. Tell everyone else to fuck off if they don’t like it. Even me.”

I nod. “I’ll work it out.”

“My friends are cool, and we’ve all been through what’s going on in your head. So even if you’re not ready to pursue this thing—as you put it—you can never have too many friends, right?”

“Right. Better than asking Will for advice.”

Damon’s smile lights up his face until a knock at his window almost makes him shit himself. “What the hell?”

Stacy’s grinning face stares down on us. Using the buttons in the center console, I lower Damon’s window.

“Hey, guys,” she says, dragging out her words.

“You’re too happy,” I grumble. “Stop looking at us like that.”

“How did it go?”

With a sigh, I turn off the ignition and exit the car with Damon and then sling my arm around him. “The weekend went extremely well.”

“What, you guys got a bromance going on now?” Stacy asks.

Damon remains stoic, but I can practically feel his internal eye roll.

“Well … actually …” I pull Damon closer.

Stacy’s eyes dart to my hand on Damon’s shoulder and then to my face and back again. I see the exact moment it clicks. I wait for the smile and “Nice try, asshole.” What I don’t expect is—

“Oh shit, are you crying?” I ask. I hate tears. I don’t do tears.

“Is this for real?” Her voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and I have to ask myself if this prank is worth it.

I step forward, about to reassure her, when she flinches back.

“Are you kidding me?” she suddenly yells. “What the hell, Maddox? That’s my brother!” She takes on her high-pitched screech she does when she’s mad.

“Stace—” I start.

But now she’s crying again, and I have no idea what’s going on. Damon stands frozen, and I assume he’s as confused as I am.

“We were … and …” She sucks in a shallow breath as if she’s hyperventilating.

I take her in my arms and hug her, but she doesn’t hug me back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d react this way.”

She pushes me off her. “I’ve been in love with you since college, you idiot. I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to want to settle down, and then you hook up with my brother?”

“No. I mean—wait, what?” I stumble back and hit a hard wall of muscle. Damon grabs my arms to prevent me from falling over my own feet. “You’re … what? You’ve never seen me that way. I don’t …” What the fuck is going on right now?

Stacy sniffles and wipes her nose with the sleeve of her jacket. “The reason I didn’t hook up with you during college is because I knew you’d lose interest as soon as we did. I figured being your friend, when you were ready to take that next step, I’d be the first person you thought of. But I can’t … not if you’ve been with my brother.” Her cries become sobs, and she hangs her head in her hands.

Well, shit. I had no idea she felt that way. We’re friends. We’re awesome friends. I haven’t looked at her like that since we were eighteen. I have no idea how to handle this.

“Stacy,” Damon says through gritted teeth. “Enough.”

Stacy’s shoulders shake, and at first, I think she’s still crying, but then she looks up at me through her lashes, and her mouth turns up at the edges. Then she glances at Damon. “You’re the meanest brother ever. You couldn’t let me have more fun? Maddox looks like he’s going to puke.”

The fog and freaking out over my best friend having a thing for me clears, and I realize— “You traitor.” I turn to Damon. “You ratted me out.”

Damon holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. But the way you guys talk about each other, I wasn’t entirely sure Stacy didn’t have a thing for you, and finding out you hooked up with me would’ve crushed her, and she’s my baby sister. I messaged her this morning before we left and begged her to let it go, but you know her.”

“So much for being Switzerland,” I mumble.

“Bros before hos,” Stacy says.

“You’re not his bro. And I’m not a ho.”

Stacy’s I call bullshit face has me backing down.

“Okay, fine, I am.”

“Besides, I needed payback for Friday,” Stacy says. “That guy in a costume cost me two hundred bucks, and you didn’t fall for it.”

“So, this was all bullshit?” I ask.

She wipes fake tears from her eyes. Or maybe they’re real tears from laughing so hard. “Definitely. I love you, Maddox, but not in that way. I couldn’t care less if you hooked up with my brother.”

My eyes find Damon’s, and his brows go up in encouragement. He wants me to tell her, and I should. Knowing her, she’ll laugh at me, say “Oh, Maddox” and then try to set me up with a guy.

“Just so you know, I hate both of you,” I grumble instead.

“No, you love me,” Stacy says and snakes her arms around my waist.

“Fine. But uh …” I swallow the lump in my throat. “You busy right now? Maybe you could come with me to return the car and I’ll walk you home?”

“Sure. You have to fill me in on your ex’s wedding. I should’ve made Damon wear a GoPro.”

“Yeah, because that’s inconspicuous,” Damon says.

“I want to hear all the wedding drama. I want a story,” Stacy says.

Yeah, she’s going to get a story, all right.

“Be a good fake boyfriend and help me with my bag, Madd—ox.”

I glare at Damon, because he almost called me Maddy. It’s funny—my whole hometown calls me that name, and I’ve hated it forever. But out of Damon’s mouth, it sounds like a term of endearment. Stacy can’t start calling me that. No way.

“I’ll be in the car,” Stacy says.

When we get to the stoop of Damon’s apartment, he puts his hand on my shoulder. “She’ll be cool with it. Apart from my parents, she’s my number one supporter. Sometimes so supportive it crosses boundaries.”

“Yeah, I can see her being like that. I don’t know why I’m nervous.”

“Not used to admitting it aloud is my guess. And if you’re not ready, you don’t have to. I just know she’s not someone you have to worry about telling. It’s your call.”

“Thanks for this weekend. It didn’t exactly turn out how I’d planned.”

Damon grins. “That might be understating it.”

“I’ll text you later.”

“See ya, Irish.”

I tip my head. “Dik.”

Stacy’s analytical green eyes appear even more intimidating than usual as I get in the car, but I don’t let it get to me. I can do this. Even if I hurl while doing it.

“So tell me everything. What did the bride wear, what did she say, did anyone call bullshit on yours and Damon’s fake relationship?”

“A gigantic white dress, she said a lot of things, and no one called bullshit.” I take a deep breath. “Probably helped that we made out on the dance floor.”

“You what? How the hell did Damon convince you to do that?”

Another deep breath. “He didn’t. I kissed him.”

“For show?”

Here we go. “For … for real. I, uh, kinda really like your brother.”

She blinks at me, stupefied. “Is this still part of the fucking with me shtick?”

“I wish I was fucking with you, because that would mean I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself by kissing Damon and him rejecting me.” I wait for the shock, the disbelief, maybe even betrayal—like I’ve been lying to her for years, but instead, she’s silent.

Her mouth drops open, and she blinks a few times, but before I can ask her if she’s stroking out, she recovers. “He rejected you?”

“That’s what you ask? Not, holy shit, Maddox is gay?”

She scoffs. “You’re so not gay.”

“I know I’m not, but I thought that’s what you’d assume.”

“So you’re bi-curious. Not shocking.”

My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you had to run out of women sometime.” Her smile does me in, and I burst into laughter. “I’m more interested in why Damon didn’t go for you.”

I get why he’s reluctant, and I can’t tell her the truth, but Eric’s not the only reason Damon turned me down. “He thinks I’m confused and doesn’t want to be my ‘experiment.’”

“Are you confused?” Straight to the point, as always with her.

“Nah. I never told you, but freshman year, I had this … thing. With … this guy.”

“Who?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m not telling you who.” I don’t think Matt and Stacy had any classes together, and Stacy barely hung out in our room, but I won’t risk it. Matt and I swore we’d never tell anyone.

She slinks back in her seat. “Huh.”

“That’s all you have to say? Huh?”

“What, you want me to throw you a pride parade for figuring out you like dudes? I don’t give a shit who you fuck, so long as it’s not me.”

Another laugh. This is why I love Stacy.