Deke (Fake Boyfriend, #3)

by Eden Finley

“So, what do you do for a living?” his dad asks. Let the interrogation begin! “Uhh, you know, business.” That’s the lie we came up with in the bathroom, so I’m sticking to it. “What type?” his dad asks. “Uh, you know. Acquisitions. Accounts. Tax. Mutual funds. Dividends.” Great, now I’m just saying words that sound businesslike.

“Nic and Vic?” I ask. “Nicklas and Victor,” Ollie says and points to each of them. They’re obviously not identical, but it’s still hard to tell them apart. “I don’t think my parents chose rhyming names on purpose …” He looks at his parents. “Right?” “We thought it was cute,” his mom says. “Yeah. Super cute,” Vic grumbles. “Didn’t cause teasing in school or nothin’,” Nic adds.

“You’re doing that thing with your face again,” Tommy says. “What thing?” I snap. “Looking angry and sulking at the same time. Didn’t know it was possible to look like a badass and a bitch, but here you are.”

Strömberg would thrive if he was in the encouraging environment he requires to grow into a player who doesn’t need to hide behind a sniper. It’s as if that Lennon guy knows all my secrets and is teasing me with them. Tommy says I’m being paranoid, but I dunno … something about that article doesn’t sit right with me.

I laugh and shake my head. “You. It’s … you.” He points to his chest. “Clark. Did you forget your boyfriend’s name?” “Ooh, I didn’t get the chance to tell you. We broke up. You cheated on me.” “Wow, I’m an asshole.” “Yeah. You are. Although in my mind, I walked in on you and that random guy and joined in, but I wasn’t going to tell my family that part of the made-up story.” Clark groans. “Fucking tease.”

“Pretty sure that’s beer.” “Hockey players are smart, huh?” “Dumb as doornails, really.” “At least you can be self-deprecating.” “Always an admirable trait,” I say as serious as I can.

if I could, I’d write an entire article on how pretty he is when he’s not scowling.

I sigh. “One drink.” “Three.” “Two?” “Four.” I purse my lips. “I don’t think you realize how this negotiating thing goes.” “Okay, fine. We’ll stay for five drinks.”

Lmfao

Jet leans into me. “I feel like my eyes are too young to see this much skin. I’m impressionable, damn it.” “If they were guys, you wouldn’t be complaining.” “Fucking duh.”

“Off the record. Promise. I’m only here because of my roommate.” Jet raises his hand. “That would be me. He wanted to go home, but I convinced him to stay for at least five drinks.” “Two.” “Okay, seven.” I’m learning really fast that negotiating with Jet is pointless. “Guess we better get started on them then.”

The burn of staring follows me to the line at the bar, and I know exactly where it’s coming from. Ollie’s gaze is locked on me, as if trying to kill me with the Force. I’m tempted to fake choke, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself when no one will understand what I’m doing. This crowd doesn’t seem like the Star Wars type.

But can we leave yet?” “We just got here. Go get another drink.” If I wasn’t living with the guy, I’d be tempted to ditch him right about now, so instead, I head to the bar and wonder exactly how I’ve become Jet’s puppet. I’ll have to ask Matt and Noah how they ever say no to him.

“Thanks. And not for the stairs. But, like … you know … things.” “Things?” Jet asks, his tone mocking. “Thanks for saving me from that chick.” “Woulda thought a straight guy like you would’ve been pissed,” Lennon says. God, his knowing attitude is annoying. “Fuck off, you know I’m gay.” And apparently my mouth has no filter now. “Well, I didn’t know,” Jet says, “but I suspected because you totally checked me out when we met.” I straighten up. “No, I didn’t.” I look at Lennon. “I swear I didn’t.”

Jet slams the front door hard. “That should alert them to our presence.” The sex noises don’t stop. “Shoulda known they wouldn’t have cared.”

“More stairs?” I ask, my voice coming out as a whine. “One more set,” Jet says. “Ugh, you sound like my trainer. When I get to the top, are you going to tell me one more set again? That asshole does it to me every time.” “Just the one. I promise,” Jet says. “He says that too!”

even though I tested at a higher than average intelligence as a child, I never said I did smart things.

“Damn, I’ve been thinking about this for six months.” Wait, what? I pull back and stare down at him. “Even when you found out who I was?” “Especially then. I think my cock thought I despised it with how many hate jerk-off sessions I had thinking about you.” “Aww, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“What are we doing? We can’t do this.” “Can we … not think about that right now?” To emphasize his point, Ollie rolls his hips beneath me. “Fuck. Best argument ever. Let our future selves deal with this shit.”

“I think Boston is the issue,” Lennon says. “Huh?” “Boston,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The two times we’ve kissed was when we were here. Totally Boston’s fault. You don’t want me. Boston wants you to want me.” “Boston is a shitty wingman,” I complain.

And as soon as I make my way over to it and close the door behind me, Ollie’s mom’s muffled voice says, “He’s a keeper. Cute as a button.” “Walls are pretty thin, Ma.”

I’m still staring at the empty space in my email when Ollie enters the bedroom. “’Rents are going to bed.” “Oh, okay.” I call out, “Goodnight.” In reply, there is a low “Such a sweet boy.” Ollie laughs. “She loves you.”

“Sorry, what was that? Can I, like, dictate that to my phone somehow?” “Shut up. I. Was. Wrong. You’re a great reporter, Lennon.” I point to my chest. “Clark. Shit, you’re so bad with names, dude.” Ollie shoves me so I roll onto my back. “Go to sleep already.”

“Why the fuck have you not had sex for a year?” “Really want to get into that right now?” I ask, holding up the lube. “We’re so coming back to this later.” I’ll have to come up with another way to distract him from asking that again, because no way in hell am I admitting that since meeting him no one else has even interested me.

Lennon stares over at me. “When are you going to tell them the truth about me?” he whispers. I shrug. “At our engagement party?” Lennon shakes his head. “Don’t even.” “Fine. The announcement of the birth of our first child.”

“I have to give him plenty of warning on how to deal with you lot. Hence why I asked him to come early.” “Preparation is always important in all areas of life, son.” Did my dad just make a gay sex joke? There is such a thing as overcompensating, and my parents like to reiterate they’re one hundred percent okay with my sexuality. As if pushing me to come out isn’t enough of a hint. I shudder. “I am not touching that one with a ten-foot pole.” Dad laughs.

Ash raises his hand to run it through his thick hair, and that’s when I see it. The lone tattoo on his left arm. Mi Vida. The same script, same size as the tattoo on Ollie’s chest. My life. I looked it up in a moment of weakness after that night in Ollie’s hotel room. The doubt Ollie obliterated not two minutes ago is back, even though this technically changes nothing.

This is worse than Daniel and Dylan combined. Because this time? Physical injuries aren’t a worry. Nope. Ollie has the ability to tear my heart out. I risk a glance back at him before I head inside the house to help his mom in the kitchen, and with the way he and Ash are smiling warmly at each other, the risk of heartache just became significantly higher.

Because I want him. I think I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Including the NHL.

When he pulls back, he’s … smiling. “I—I … I’m not in trouble then?” I stammer. His fingers interlace with mine, and he turns to face his family. “Guys, I want to introduce you to Lennon Hawkins.” Silence. Dead silence. His mom is the one to break it. “The reporter who hates you?”

“Ollie’s lucky to have you, Clark,” Max says. I narrow my eyes. “Lennon.” The twins shake their heads and Nic says, “Oh, if you think for one second we’re going to forget you guys totally lied to us for months, you’re higher than we thought.” Wait, what? “So, you’re saying …” Max pats me on my shoulder. “Welcome to the family. Clark.”

“What about Dad?” She waves me off. “Eh. He’s all right. Like, if there was a zombie apocalypse or something, I wouldn’t shoot him in the leg, but you boys would be my first priority.”

“I’ve never realized how loud this house is until this weekend.” “You probably never realized because you grew up with four brothers who were no doubt louder than the house.” “True.” “I know how to be quiet,” Lennon whispers. I smirk. “Challenge accepted.” “Uh, I don’t recall setting one.” “I’m gonna make you scream,” I promise.

My body’s all floaty, my mind empty—a state only a night of great orgasms can achieve. That all turns to shit when one of Ollie’s brothers knocks on the bedroom door. “Hurry up. Some of us need coffee thanks to being awake half the night listening to your fuck session.”

“We weren’t that loud,” he says through a yawn. Only, when we drag our asses out of bed and head downstairs, it’s pretty damn clear we were that loud. All four of Ollie’s brothers clap and cheer, and his mom refuses to look either of us in the eye as she flits around the kitchen.

“I’ve got everything I need for tonight’s game, so I’m easy.” I wince when everyone laughs. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?” “You’re gonna be so much fun to have around, Clarky,” Max says.

Damon and I stare at each other with mirrored dumbfounded expressions. “Did he just come out to me?” Damon asks. “Oh, God, has he come out to the world without telling me first?” He whips out his phone from his pocket, but I step forward and cover it with my hand. “Your professional world isn’t imploding, but I fear Ollie’s head might be. I had no idea he was going to do that.”

“Oh. That,” Ollie says. “I think they’re freaking out because I told Damon that Lennon and I are a thing.” Maddox cocks his head at Damon. “Why would that shock you? We saw them flirting at the benefit.” “I’m trying to work out if I should be in friend mode or agent mode,” Damon says.

I’m legitimately beginning to worry that topping for the first time means he lost a severe amount of brain cells when he came. Sex makes you dumb, people.

“Harry’s already signed off on it.” “Well, he’s not going to get it from me.” “What the fuck, Lennon? Is this some sort of us against you people thing?” You people? I want to scream, but I don’t have a voice.

“Where’s Ollie?” No hi, no how are you, just where’s Ollie. That can’t be good. “Uh, I’m right here,” I say. “You’re on speaker.” “You two have got to be more careful. That photo of you guys—” “It’s so hot,” a voice calls out from the background. I think it’s Maddox. “It’s like foreplay porn.”

“Oh, thank God.” The voice comes from the entry to the pressroom, and as Ollie steps back, the coach appears in my line of vision. “I was sure it was gonna be a drug or prostitute problem. Maybe a DUI.” Ollie huffs a tiny laugh. “No, sir, just your run-of-the-mill homosexuality.” The coach waves him off. “The league’s been preparing for this day, because you’re certainly not the first.”

Damon reaches for Ollie, who’s staring at the floor. “You okay, man? This is over. Done. You don’t have to do this anymore.” Ollie looks like he’s going to vomit though. “Yeah. I do.” He still wants to come out? “Why?” I ask. “You said you weren’t ready, and this is your out.” I told him to take the out. Suddenly the pressure is back, sitting on my chest and dragging me down. He shakes his head. “I don’t think I am ready, but after today, with this close call … I know I need to take control if I want this to come out the way I want it to. And I know if it was me being the one forced out today, I would kill for someone to stand behind me and say ‘me too.’ I can’t let Soren do it on his own. It’s lonely enough as it is in this industry.”

“Do you know what you want to say on camera?” Damon asks. “I’ve been making notes in my phone all day if you want me to draft a proper speech or something, but it’s up to you. As long as you don’t say anything stupid.” “No pressure.”

“You’re an idiot.” There’s no real malice behind his words, only pure defeat. “Uh, why?” I ask. “You didn’t have to do that.” “I know, but if it were the other way around, I wouldn’t have called you an idiot for it.” He sighs.

LOl

“I think everyone’s under the impression Matt and Noah are still on vacation, and no journalists came around the house while I’ve been staying there,” I say. Ollie leans in. “You say that as if you’re not one.”

“Whoa,” Soren says, “you’re dating a journalist? You’re brave.” “Nah, I’m just super irresistible. Clearly.” I gesture to my nerdy self. “He’s being self-deprecating, but he doesn’t realize how true that is.”

“There you go calling me pretty again,” he grumbles. “You are kinda pretty.” Soren turns to us from the passenger seat with a charming smile showing off the dark scruff on his face. Ollie chuckles at me. “I think you’re growling. Are you trying to growl? Fuck, that’s adorable.” “I’m not growling,” I argue. “I’m not that dumb. Soren could snap me in half.” “I’m not after your man,” Soren says.

Noah smirks. “Aww, babe, did you get me a birthday present in the form of a naked hockey player? Because that’s awesome.” Matt elbows his husband in the stomach and then glares at me.

“Uh, Lennon?” I call out. “Your roommates are here.” “And Ollie needs some pants,” Jet yells. “I don’t think he does,” Noah says. “I like my birthday present wrapped in a towel.” Footsteps thump down the stairs, and Lennon throws pants at me, and then he pushes Noah. “He’s not your birthday present. I’m not that generous a friend.” Noah gets him in a headlock. “It’s not like I’d fuck him. I’d just want him to walk around the house practically naked and fetch me things. Like beer.” “Ooh, I want in on that,” Jet says. Matt joins in. “Yeah, I’d be down for that.” “Umm …” Lennon wrestles free of Noah. “They’re fucking with you. You have your brothers. I have these people.”

Noah leans in and blocks my view of the phone. “Damn. Need me to beat him up for you, Lennon?” Lennon’s still looking at his phone, but he looks up at that. “You?” “Okay, fine. I’ll get Matt to do it.”