Page 12 of For Fake's Sake and other stories

“Kit, you don’t have to do this. If you’re having second thoughts, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t changed my mind. I want to help you, Ollie. Monty is an arsehole, and he’ll never let it drop if you turn up alone. We’ll have fun. I promise to be the best boyfriend ever.”

“Okay, but if you want to stop, just tell me.” He smiles sadly, as if it would hurt him, even if he says it won’t.

“Okay. Now stop stalling, or are you afraid I’m going to beat you every time?” I pick up the game controllers and settle back, ready to play.

“Yeah, right, like you have a chance of that. I’m going to annihilate you.” He scoffs and presses Play.

I laugh, but he gets all serious. And he’s good. I have my work cut out for me. Hopefully, I can beat him, but I’m not positive.

Gaming with Ollie is fun. He swears and shouts as he fights the enemies. Just as I’m about to ambush him, the front door slams, and Jack calls he’s home. I look up for a second, which gives Ollie the chance to kill me.

“Loser!” He jumps up and does a victory dance that’s so cute I want to drag him onto my lap and kiss him.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Jack enters the living room. “Hi Kit, this is a surprise.” He looks past me to Ollie, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know Kit was coming over.”

“Yeah, I thought it would be a good idea, a get-to-know-each-other session,” Ollie says.

“And how much have you found out about each other since you’ve started playing? Do you know each other’s middle names or favourite drinks? How about your birthdays or where you met and how long you’ve been together?”

Wow! What’s up with him?

Ollie frowns at Jack. It seems he’s just as shocked as I feel.

“Not yet. I’ve learnt how he takes his coffee and that he sucks at Fallout. It’s early days, Jackie boy.”

“Whatever. I’m going to shower.” He huffs and walks out.

“Is he okay?” I ask Ollie. Whatever brought that change in Jack’s attitude?

“Yeah, he’s fine. We surprised him, that’s all.”

“What are you doing tonight?” Jack looks up from shovelling Coco Pops into his mouth.

“I don’t know how you can eat that. It’s for kids.” I grimace. Chocolate-covered puffed rice is gross.

“It’s delicious, and you didn’t answer me.”

“I’m meeting Kit after work, and we’re going out for dinner.” I finish my toast and put the plate in the dishwasher.

“Sounds like a date to me,” he mutters.

“Well, it’s not. It’s two people getting something to eat after a long day at work. Dates include hand-holding, kissing, and sometimes bed and a good orgasm. None of those things happen with us.”

“Only because you won’t admit you like him. Annnnd”—he drawls the word out—“in two weeks, you have to look and act like a couple. Last time I checked that means you’ve shared all of those things. If you can’t hold his hand, how are you going to look convincing as boyfriends?”

“I’m pretty sure we’ll manage. It’s not like we have to persuade anyone. It’s not a reality show, Jack. We’re doing fine. We get on and know everything we need to about each other, so we can answer nosey-ass wives all the shit they like to know.”

“Then why are you still meeting?” Jesus, he should change his last name to Russell. He’s like a dog with a bone. He won’t drop the subject.

“Because we’re friends. Bloody hell, Jack, this was your idea in the first place.” I’m sick of going over the same thing again and again.

“That’s because you two should be together. You have the hots for each other and the desire to bump uglies. I thought you would’ve made it official by now. Like actually become boyfriends.” He sighs. “I’ve got to go. Have a good evening.”

“Don’t nag at Kit today either.”

Jack rolls his eyes like he’s a teenager. “He talks about it even less than you.”

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