“Kissing?” I said, and my voice did
not
squeak, no matter what he said. It did
not
. “Why are we at kissing! We were just talking about holding hands! Slow your roll, Casanova.”
“Right,” Darren said. “But I think I’m going to need both to sell it. You know. Since they can see right through bullshit and all.”
“Did I say Paul and Corey were suspicious? I totally meant that they believed everything I said. Oops! Got my words mixed up again. Good talk. Glad we cleared that up. Okay! Let’s go and never discuss this again.”
I pulled on the doorknob, but a hand shot over my shoulder, pressing against the door. The hairs on his arm tickled my ear. I swallowed thickly and turned around. Darren brought up his other hand and bracketed my face between them.
“Nah,” he said, that infuriating smirk returning. “Pretty sure I like PDA. Maybe we should just practice. Just to make sure we do it right. I’d sure hate for our first kiss to be uncoordinated in front of witnesses. Especially ones who get suspicious.” He chuckled. “Oh. Wait. I mean the ones who believe everything you say.”
“What? No.
No
practicing. Why the hell would we need to do that?
I
don’t need to do that. In fact, I am perfectly fine
not
doing that. The practicing kissing part.” I wished quite severely that my voice wasn’t so high-pitched at that moment.
“I don’t know,” he said gravely. “I think it might be a good idea. Make sure we’re… coordinated and whatnot.”
“
Coordinated
? Why, of all the stupid—”
His eyes flickered down to my mouth and just
what
. That should
not
even be a thing that was happening to me.
My hands were sweaty and I
cursed
that low swooping sensation in the pit of my stomach. My heart was thundering in my chest and I wanted to tell him to take a step back, but my mouth was dry and the synapses were firing all at once, which would probably lead to a full system shutdown. So I said, “Urgh,” rather articulately. It was not one of my finest moments.
“Urgh,” Darren agreed, and I could feel his breath on my face. And then he was
closer
and all I could think of was that he
was
going to kiss me, that I was about to have my first kiss with Darren fucking
Mayne
and there was
no
way I was prepared for this,
no
way that I would have thought I’d let it get this far. I almost didn’t believe he would do it, like we were playing some fucked-up version of Fake Boyfriend Gay Chicken. He was
inches
away, only
inches
, and my eyes fluttered shut of their own accord and I knew his lips would scrape against mine and—
“You’re right,” he said.
I opened my eyes lazily. “Huh?” was the only thing I could say.
“We don’t need to practice,” he said, sounding far too cheerful. “We’re adults. We’ve kissed before. Sorry about that. Don’t know what I was thinking. We’ll just go for it if the situation requires.”
I squinted at him, not really sure what was going on. My head felt fuzzy and I was pretty sure I was about to have at least one-fourth of an erection that I could not control.
“Besides…” He took a step back, eyes glittering. “I wouldn’t want to be late for our date. Why, that would just be rude.”
Then he grabbed me by the shoulders, lifted me up, moved me out of the way (like I weighed
nothing
to him and that was
not
attractive, no matter how much my skin tingled), and walked out the front door.
“Huh?” I said to the empty room.
PAUL HAD
decided that we were to meet at Poco’s, a small café downtown near Jack It where he and Vince had their first date the year before. Even though the date had been something of a disaster (“Why the
fuck
is that goddamned hippo video still on YouTube, Sandy! I am going to fucking
murder
your fucking face!”), the sentimentalist in him just couldn’t resist.
Which is why I found myself going on a double date with Corey as a fifth wheel. I would have thought Corey might have felt more awkward about that, but from the grin on his face as we approached the outdoor patio, he was already having the time of his life.
I didn’t think that boded well for the rest of the night.
It started with Darren grabbing my hand as we walked down the sidewalk, interlacing our fingers. I didn’t know proper first-date etiquette as it’d been a while since I’d actually dated. Usually, I was perfectly fine with a fuck and run and didn’t feel the need to do anything further. I hadn’t even had a “boyfriend” since I was twenty-five, and even
that
had lasted only two months. Paul thought I was aromantic, but it basically boiled down to the fact that it was easier to
not
than it was easier to
do
.
That and the fact that I really didn’t like most people.
That was a big part of it.
So here I was, on a date (
fake
, but whatever), unsure of the proper course of action. He was holding my hand. What was the appropriate response? Could I shove him through the window of a storefront? Could I accidentally knock him into oncoming traffic? Or maybe I could wait until we sat down for dinner, order a steak (medium rare), make small talk until the food arrived, comment on how delicious it looked, then beat him upside the head with it, knocking him unconscious, and then stab him with the steak knife. I thought maybe that was a little extreme, but I didn’t know how the modern gay fake dated in 2015 with his archnemesis. I vowed to be better researched if I had to go through this again, though I highly doubted I would. This was Darren posturing a bit. I would allow it. For now.
Paul smiled as we approached, Vince looked excited, and Corey just
grinned
like he was about to receive the most wonderful of presents. I glanced over at Darren and was slightly startled to see the small smile on his face, one that I could have sworn was almost entirely
genuine
, like he was
relaxed
and
happy
. It carried none of the ego or disinterest his usual smiles did. It struck me dumb for a moment until I realized what he was doing: he was trying to beat me at my own game. He was trying to be the better fake boyfriend. He just
oozed
sincerity, and even though I could see right through, I could admit he was the Daniel Day-Lewis of fake dating. Even
I
wanted to give him an Oscar for that shit.
Which meant one thing and one thing only.
I had to be better than him.
That meant I had to pull out all the stops.
Because there was only one thing better than being the Daniel Day-Lewis of fake dating.
I had to be the Meryl Streep of fake dating.
(Which also meant I couldn’t beat him with my meat and then stab him.)
(I really shouldn’t have phrased it like that.)
(My bad.)
So I reached down within myself, found my inner Meryl Streep as we approached the patio of Paco’s, and smiled winningly and hoped it made me look more
Mamma Mia!
Meryl (warm and inviting) than
Devil Wears Prada
Meryl (kill you, bitch, right in your face).
(Secretly, I also hoped I could pull off
Death Becomes Her
Meryl, which is the greatest drag queen movie in history that never actually starred any drag queens.)
“Hello!” I trilled, walking through the gate, dragging Darren behind me. “Oh, it is so lovely to see all of you. Kisses, please.”
And I kissed Vince on the cheek and then Paul and finally Corey, never letting Darren go. He went along gamely, but now that I knew he was trying to out-act a drag queen, I was going to make him wish he’d never been born. He thought he could look happy and pull it off? Well I was going to look
ecstatic
, like I was motherfucking
sunshine
. I was going to be the happiest person in love who had ever existed.
“How wonderful,” I gushed, smiling at each of them in turn, so they could see how happy I was. “It’s a perfect fall evening, and we’re here with friends and family.” I looked over at Darren and hoped it was coming off as two parts sweet and one part saucy with a dash of bring it, you bitch. “And of course, my bae.” I saw the slight grimace at the endearment and latched on to it immediately. “Isn’t that right, bae?”
“Sure,” he said, sounding as if he was so happy to be here. “That’s exactly right, boo.”
Internally, I was
dying
.
“Boo,” Paul repeated, sounding horrified.
“Bae,” Corey repeated, sounding choked.
“Heh,” Vince said, “that sounded like you both said booby. Awesome.”
We all stared at him.
“What?” he asked, pouting. “It did.”
“Anyway,” I said. “I’m so glad you picked this place to be the first date. And that you all decided to come with us on said first date. Because that’s what normal people do. And everyone knows that this is perfectly normal. Darren and I are just like everyone else.” I was so Meryl, even Meryl herself would have been proud.
Darren squeezed hard, and I swore my bones ground together. “What Sandy is trying to say,” he said, glancing at me with a look filled with so much adoration that I almost elbowed his spleen, “is that we’re so glad we can finally be together. I can’t believe how long it took Sandy to get his head out of his ass, am I right?” Everyone laughed heartily at the table.
Everyone, that is, except for me.
I started to plan my revenge.
And I knew it would be sweet.
So sweet, in fact, that I could almost
taste
it.
And it tasted like victory.
Ever the gentleman, Darren dropped my hand and pulled out my chair. I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping the others couldn’t see. His smile took on a slightly mean curve. I turned and sat in the chair, allowing him to push the chair in. His hand trailed along my shoulders, fingers brushing the back of my head. I leaned into it, as a good boyfriend should. I sighed and smiled up at him as he moved to sit beside me. He pulled his chair as close as it could possibly get to me without actually being on top of me, then sat down, taking my hand in his. He leaned over behind me, my head blocking his. From the outside, it must have looked like he was kissing my ear. Instead, however, he whispered, “I know what you’re doing. You aren’t going to win.” His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, and I struggled to keep from shuddering.
“Oh, you.” I laughed and tilted my head down in an approximation of embarrassment. I knew my face was slightly red, but rather than from shyness, it was from pure, unadulterated
rage
.
“Wow,” Paul said. “I may have overestimated my desire to see you two together. This is actually making me slightly nauseous. It’s like having sugar and crack mainlined right into my veins. Gross.”
“No worse than you and Vince,” Corey said. “Sometimes, you two will sit there and whisper quietly to each other and have these goofy little looks on your faces. It’s positively vomitus. I’m glad I’ve so far been able to avoid the trappings of domestic bliss. It looks disgusting.”
“We’re not really domestic,” I said. “We’ve only been together a few days, so we can’t be domestic.”
“Yet,” Darren said, bringing my hand up and kissing the back of it. “But, boo, if I have my way, we’ll be beating Vince and Paul’s time it took to move in together.”
“It took them two months,” I said, trying not to grit my teeth.
“I know.” Darren grinned at me from behind my hand. “I’m counting down the days.”
“I don’t know,
bae
,” I said. “I have a lot of stuff. I don’t know if you’d even have the room for it.”
“We can just buy a bigger house,” he said with a shrug. “You know, for your stuff. And the kids.”
I literally had to clench to keep from shitting myself right then and there. “The
what
now?”
I was saved from hearing his answer when what had to be the world’s most handsome waiter arrived at our table. He wore a red collared shirt and tight black slacks that contrasted perfectly with his mocha skin. His hair was tousled in such a way that looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed, but had obviously been done on purpose. He had what I thought were possibly the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. He was, in a word, perfect.
And probably just Darren’s type.
In fact, Darren paled slightly when he saw the waiter, his hand squeezing mine. I was slightly grossed out that he was probably getting a boner while holding my hand and watching Sexy McSlut Whore. I wasn’t jealous. Not even a little bit. Because jealousy would imply feelings beyond indifferent anger. And there were none.
The waiter ignored Darren, Corey, and me and immediately zeroed in on Paul and Vince. “Oh look,” he said with a thick accent. “It’s the father accountant. Back yet again. Are you hungry, big man father accountant? I shall bring you your own bread basket. You look like you’ve earned it. Can’t let all those carbs go to waste.”
“Santiago,” Paul hissed. “I was told you quit.”
“I did,” Santiago said. “And then I didn’t.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Paul muttered, but Santiago ignored him, focusing on Vince. “You’re not mysterious.”
“I am
so
mysterious.”
“For fuck’s sake, you just—”
“Hello, Vincent,” Santiago said, cocking his hip and oozing sex. “How lovely it is to see you again. I see your biceps are just as exponential as always. Tell me, what are your thoughts about using them to pin a smaller man to a bed? Good, I hope.”
“Hi, Santiago,” Vince said. “We’re going to need a while before we order.”
“Is that so?” he asked, eyes going big. “Maybe I should just stay here with you to see if you have any questions on the menu. Today’s special is garlic beef enchiladas wrapped in freshly prepared corn tortillas topped with a garden pico de gallo. Also, I get off at ten tonight if you’d also like to get off. At ten. Tonight.”