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Five Fake Dates Page 2
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“Oh my God,” I said, laughing harder, “don’t talk about snot when you’re on a date with Hannah.”
“Hannah,” he muttered. “Right.”
While he picked up a glass of water and guzzled it, I ate a few bites of my delicious crab cakes. I could eat almost anything on the menu. I loved seafood hard. But my friend, West? He did not.
“You hate seafood,” I said.
“I know,” he said miserably.
“You realize Hannah doesn’t really like it, either. That’s why she opted not to come with us.”
I’d thought this insight might cheer him up. Hannah would probably have tagged along if he’d suggested a different restaurant. But he continued to look miserable.
“You love seafood, though,” he said.
“But…” I trailed off as he gasped for air. “West? Are you okay?”
“Throat feels itchy and tight,” he rasped.
His lips looked redder than usual, and were they… Oh, shit. They were swelling!
I jumped from my chair. “You’re having an allergic reaction. Let’s go.”
Tossing a few bills down to cover the check, I grabbed his arm and pulled him after me. He seemed bewildered. “I was supposed to pay. The date…”
“Let’s worry about that after we make sure you don’t swell up too much to breathe. Why did you eat those if you’re allergic?!”
I looked at him and winced. His lips had passed swollen and veered right into holy-shit-that-looks-painful!
“Didn’t know,” he mumbled, his words distorted enough I suspected his tongue was swelling too.
Opening the passenger door, I pushed him into the seat. Leaning in, I clicked his seatbelt into place. He tried to say something. I couldn’t understand him, so I looked into his eyes. “If you have any trouble breathing, I want you to squeeze my leg. I’ll speed like hell, okay?”
He nodded, eyes wide.
I ran around the car, got in, and sped toward the nearest hospital. Thankfully, Bell Harbor wasn’t that large. We were there in within five minutes, and West hadn’t squeezed my leg, so he was still breathing. He got out of the car on his own, though he looked far from good, and we hustled into the ER.
The admitting nurse took one look at him and showed him to a room. Apparently, imminent threat of suffocation got you to the front of the line. Within minutes, epinephrine had been administered, and he was breathing easier. The doctors advised him to stay while his symptoms abated, just to be sure.
“Is it getting better?” I asked. I knew logically everything was okay, but my system was still flooded with adrenaline, and I was a little shaky.
He squeezed my hand. “Yeah.”
I wasn’t even sure when I’d grabbed his hand, and now I realized I had probably squeezed the life out of him. “You worried me.”
“Kinda failed the first date, huh?” he said, sounding hoarse.
I laughed shakily. “I don’t know. Intense situation, life-saving bonding experience. Maybe next time go all the way, so your date can do CPR on you.”
“Mouth-to-mouth, yessss,” he said. “Knew I was forgetting something.”
“You look less like ass now.”
“The words every guy wants to hear on a date.”
I snickered. “Good thing it’s fake, huh?”
“Good thing,” he said.
“You really didn’t know you were allergic to shellfish?”
“How could I?” he said. “I’ve always hated seafood. Never even tried an oyster until today.”
“Why did you order them?”
He looked embarrassed as he lifted a hand to push his hair back. “I dunno. I’ve always heard they’re an aphrodisiac? Seemed like a romantic thing to do.”
“Dude, if you need an aphrodisiac to get it up, that’s not romantic.”
He groaned, closing his eyes. “I don’t need any help in that department. Well. Except right now. This is pretty dick-shriveling embarrassment right here.”
“Well, relax. It was just me, and now you know not to take Hannah to a seafood restaurant and not to eat shellfish. I guess you needed this fake dating experience more than I thought.”
“Guess so.”
West
By the time we left the ER, it was late. Adam suggested some ice cream might soothe me after my ordeal, and I happily agreed. I’d had enough peanuts before to know I wasn’t allergic to them. I ordered a sundae smothered in fudge and nuts and went to town, forgetting for a minute that I was supposed to be romancing Adam.
Could be that this fake dating idea was terrible after all. I thought it’d be a good chance to see if we worked as a couple, without the pressure of actually asking Adam out, but he’d spent all evening telling me what Hannah would like—well, the parts of the evening not spent in the ER, that is—and judging my choices. Granted, he’d been right on all counts, but it wasn’t doing much for my ego.
“You must be starving,” he said. “You only choked down a few of those oysters.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ll never eat seafood to impress someone again.”
He gave me a funny look. “Yeah. Dating isn’t always about impressing people, you know.”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
Ironically, of the two of us, Adam had more dating experience. He’d joined the GSA in college, and he’d spent the first semester going on a series of dates. I think he was so excited to be in an environment where he had options that he went a little overboard. It used to drive me crazy, watching him come in from dates, goofy smile on his face, reporting in about their kissing style.
Too much tongue, he’d said with a grimace.
He knew what he was doing! Wow.
Ugh, I feel as if my face has been assaulted.
The kisses that hadn’t gone so well had been bearable, but when he came in glowing with happiness, reporting he really liked Kaden, or Garrett, or Jeremy—or whoever, not like I was keeping track—and the kissing was amazing? That had been annoying as fuck. I hadn’t liked those other guys putting that smile on his face. Hadn’t liked to picture them kissing him. Huh. Maybe I’d been feeling something even then. I hadn’t recognized it for what it was: jealousy.
Then the party happened. I wondered, not for the first time, what kind of score Adam would have given my kiss. You know, assuming he remembered it. I kind of thought he might. I mean, I did, and I’d had a lot of alcohol. But I’d stupidly danced around it enough that he assumed the whole night was a blank for me. I wasn’t trying to be a dick and play the freaked-out straight guy card: Kiss? What kiss? I remember nothing! I just hadn’t been sure what to say, and he hadn’t been sure what to say, and so we’d made a bunch of fumbling excuses about our crazy, drunk, blurry night.
Now, I really wanted to know what he remembered, how he felt, what he wanted.
I wanted to kiss him again — and be able to talk to him about it.
“You’ve spent years trying to impress Hannah,” Adam said. “And what has it gotten you? Public embarrassment? Injuries? Look at tonight. If you hadn’t tried to impress… uh, your date by ordering seafood you didn’t even want, you would have been fine.”
“I thought I should do something nice for my date. You like seafood, so I took you to a seafood place. That’s wrong?”
“No, it’s not wrong,” Adam said. He shoved his chocolate-banana shake aside. He loved the little banana chunks; I thought they were gross. Different strokes for different folks. “I’m just saying that dating is about getting to know someone. If they don’t like you for you, they’re not worth it, you know? Don’t try so hard.”
Ouch. My ego.
“Okay,” I said softly, looking down. The back of my neck burned, and I rubbed at it, trying to make the feeling go away.
“West?”
I glanced up. “Yeah?”
“It was a very memorable first date.” He smiled sweetly, as if he knew maybe his words had hurt.
I laughed a little. “Yeah. Well, let’s
get you home, huh? The date’s not over yet.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, but he didn’t argue. We discarded our trash, headed back to the car, and he drove across town.
“Do you want me to drop you at your place?”
I lived only two blocks from Adam anyway. “Nah, I’m fine. We should end the date at your front door.”
He snorted. “You going to kiss me too?”
Well, I was.
An awkward silence fell between us, and then he started babbling. “That was a joke. Of course you weren’t going to kiss me. I mean, wow. That’d be weird, right? To kiss me and actually remember it.”
So he did remember that kiss! Called it.
He clamped his lips together, as if he realized what he’d just said. I wanted to relieve the tension, so I grabbed his leg and squeezed as he slowed to pull into the driveway.
He glanced at me, puzzled.
“I can’t breathe,” I said.
He looked horrified for a brief moment, then laughed and shoved my shoulder. “Oh, shit. You asshole. I almost fell for that.”
“Maybe you should do CPR,” I said.
“Maybe you should kiss my ass.”
That could probably be arranged, but I held my tongue as we got out of the car and walked toward his front door. When we reached the porch, he turned to look at me.
“Umm.” He chuckled nervously. “Wow, suddenly this does feel like a date, except at the end of a date, there’s usually…”
I leaned in, brushing our lips together.
“A kiss,” he whispered.
When I felt that soft mouth beneath mine, electricity danced over my skin. I wanted to delve deeper, taste him, but I held back. This was only a first date.
“Goodnight, Adam. I’ll do better on the next date.”
“You will?” He blinked. “Of course. I’m sure you will!”
Smiling wide, enjoying his disorientation, I left before I could ruin the moment. Despite an allergic reaction, which had scared the bejesus out of me and made me feel like utter shit, I was happy. Because if Adam’s face was anything to go by, I’d knocked it out of the park with one simple kiss.
3
Date 2: Carnival and Conflict
Adam
West had always been the type of guy to go all in when he was excited about something. I hadn’t expected him to go all in on this fake dating thing, complete with a kiss at the end of the night. It was barely a touch of lips, and once my head stopped spinning, I realized I was in real trouble. It was all fun and games to West, but I had to be careful, or I’d end up in a thousand pieces when he got around to dating Hannah.
It was one thing to yearn for something you’d never had, but to get a taste of it and then have it taken away? That might be worse.
But I had a plan. I’d called up a mutual friend, Carmen, and asked her to tag along. West could practice his dating moves on a girl, which would be more effective anyway. Once the date got under way, I could sneak off to nurse my personal wounds. No way I was gonna hang out and witness the goodnight kiss with her. I wasn’t a masochist, just a realist.
West was right on time, with a big grin plastered to his handsome face, but it faded when he saw Carmen.
“I thought we had a date,” he said.
“We do,” I said with false cheer, dragging Carmen forward by the hand. She’d been ridiculously reluctant to play along, saying that if West had kissed me maybe the dates weren’t all that fake. But I knew West. I was gay, but he was the drama queen. This was the guy who’d tried to serenade my sister and woo her with gifts and embarrassing romantic gestures.
He could never do anything halfway. Hence the kiss. It’s not like he’d gone for any tongue. Besides, we’d already had a scorching hot kiss, and he didn’t even remember. Or, if he did, he was pretending not to remember, which was even worse.
“Carmen’s gonna come with us,” I said. “You can practice your moves on a real-live girl.”
She gave a pained smile. “Hey, West.”
“Hey,” he said. “Will you excuse us?”
He grabbed my arm, dragging me forward onto the porch before she’d answered. “You told her?” he said, sounding utterly offended. “Why would you do that?”
“Um… I just thought maybe she’d have a female perspective? Isn’t that what you want?”
“No.” He groaned, tugging at his hair. “I mean, I just… I don’t want everyone to know. What if she tells Hannah?”
Of course. It all came back to Hannah.
“She won’t,” I said firmly. “Carmen’s cool. You know that.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he muttered. Turning, he flashed the fakest smile I’d ever seen at Carmen. “Well, let’s go. I was planning to take Adam to the carnival.”
“You sure you want me to go?”
“Yes! It’ll be fun,” I said, injecting as much enthusiasm as I could into my voice.
“Three’s not a great number for rides,” she hedged.
“We’ll have to take turns being the third wheel,” West said wryly.
There seemed to be something in the look he and Carmen exchanged. A sense of understanding. I hoped I hadn’t just handed West a backup girlfriend. Bad enough he might date Hannah; that felt kind of inevitable after all his years of longing for her. But if I’d just handed him over to Carmen, I was going to be kicking myself in the ass.
West
The carnival was not far from Bell Harbor’s boardwalk, with the scenic backdrop of the ocean. It was kind of a poor man’s Coney Island, open during the warm-weather months in the hopes of capturing tourist dollars. This evening, as we approached, the scent of cotton candy and cooking oil was thick in the air. I breathed it in, grinning as nostalgia swamped me.
Adam and I had been here before. Many times, in fact. I was convinced I’d selected the perfect date, both fun and romantic. I had some grand plans, but Carmen’s presence was cramping my style. I shelled out for some tickets—good thing I was employed this summer; this dating thing wasn’t cheap—and we noshed on hot dogs, large salted pretzels, and soda before venturing toward our first line.
“What you think?” I asked Adam. “Ease in while we digest? Maybe do The Love Tunnel?” I wiggled my brows. “Pretty romantic.”
“You should take Carmen,” he said. “I’m not feeling it.”
No way I was taking Carmen into the Love Tunnel, a ride that took you through the dark and was known as a favorite makeout opportunity. I didn’t want to kiss Adam yet, not there, so I shrugged. “How about we go straight for the roller coaster then?”
The line was long enough I reasoned our junk food dinner would settle before we were zipping around a track. Adam hedged again. “Okay, you two go. I want to get a refill,” he said, shaking his soda.
This was such bullshit. Adam was pushing Carmen and me together, acting like he didn’t want to ride the rides, but Adam loved the carnival. The scarier the ride, the better. He loved fast, twirling rides. He loved rides that went up high, that went upside down. He loved it all, and he’d once confessed to me that his perfect idea of a date was riding the Ferris wheel to the top, then kissing. It was the cheesiest thing ever, he’d said with a laugh, but it just did it for him.
I wanted that kiss on the Ferris wheel. But first I had to figure out how to get him on the damn ride.
For a while I played along, riding a roller coaster and then a set of rides that spun me into dizzying circles. But once Carmen and I boarded the Scrambler, which zipped back and forth, I decided I was done playing Adam’s game.
We couldn’t talk much while being flung side to side, having our guts shaken up inside our bodies as the wind roared in our ears. But as the dizzying ride came to a stop, I said, “Listen, I need Adam to get on the Ferris wheel with me. Can I get your help with that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I don’t know why you’re playing with him like this, though. If you want to date the boy, just date the boy.”
“Things aren’t that
simple.”
“Why not?”
“Um… I’m straight? Or I used to be. I dunno,” I said. “It’s confusing, and I just don’t want to rush into anything.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Guys make everything too complicated. He likes you. Just be honest with him.”
“I will,” I said. “I just… need to work my way up to it, you know?”
“It’s gonna backfire on you, but sure,” she said. “I’ll play sick when we get off.”
“Aces. You’re my girl.” I held out a fist, and she bumped it, laughing.
As we exited the ride, she stumbled and leaned against me. “Ugh, I feel so sick now.”
Adam was all over that. “Oh, no! Should we go sit down? Do you need to go home?”
She shook her head. “Why don’t you guys ride the next one, and I’ll chill on the bench over there?”
Adam frowned. “Maybe we should just go if you’re not feeling well. It’s rude to just leave you here.”
“You know … I will go,” she said, ignoring me as I tried to give her the abort signal. Adam would never ditch a friend who’s ill.
“Okay, we’ll take you home—”
“No.” She waved her phone. “I called a friend. You two should have fun. West spent enough on tickets.”
Word. Those tickets were not cheap.
Adam seemed torn, but she waved him away. “Go, Adam. You love these rides. Stop being weird and ride your friend. Er, I mean, ride with your friend.”
She smiled evilly. I was annoyed, and yet impressed. That girl. Now, the image of Adam riding me was fully in my mind, and it was hella intriguing. I hadn’t gotten much past the kissing element. I’d perhaps imagined Adam’s mouth on me in various locations. But my dick in his ass? Hadn’t exactly surfaced yet. But it was there now, and my dick liked the notion quite a bit.
I tried and failed not to look at his ass. It was round and perky. He had a slim build, but somehow he had a luscious ass tucked onto that little body. Damn.
“Fine, if you’re sure,” Adam said reluctantly.