Page 6 of Faking the Book Boyfriend

“Okay. Love you, Magpie.”

“Love you too, Uncle Twey-pie.”

My sister takes the phone. Her familiar blue eyes meet mine as she holds her baby boy, Leo. “Thanks for being there today. She was excited to see you. She never realized that you’re famous, but all the parents were chatting about it after the game. Now Maggie thinks you’re a movie star.”

I straighten my collar on the nice shirt I’m wearing. “That’s how I roll.” I wink. “It must be my movie star good looks.”

“Don’t get a big head. You’ll always be Demon Trey to me.”

I wince at the nod to my real first name, DeMontré, which no one knows. Ever since I was old enough to offer an opinion, I’ve gone by Trey. My big sister loved to call me Demon Trey instead.

Leo coos, “Demon, demon, demon.”

What? He’s not even one yet. “Is he talking?”

She shrugs. “He mimics all the time. I have to watch my mouth around him, Demon Trey.”

“Shh. Layton and Cheetah are here. I don’t want them to ever find out my real first name. They’ll never let me live it down.”

“Riiight. Your big dinner tonight. That’s why you had to head home early. I’ll let you go.”

“It’s okay. Those prima donnas are still getting dressed.”

She grins before her face turns more serious. “Hey, I’m sorry you lost in the playoffs, but I’m happy you have some free time. We all hope to see you more often. Maggie adores you. She’s at a fun age right now.”

“I adore her too. It was exciting to see her play.” This fall was her first season being old enough to play T-ball, and it’s the first game I’ve been able to attend due to my busy baseballschedule. “Honestly, Lady Di, she’s the best. You’re an amazing mom.”

She smiles. “Thank you. I hope you have one while you’re still young enough to enjoy them. Any prospects?”

I shake my head. “Just the usual groupies. It’s hard to find a good woman. You set the bar too high.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re full of shit, but I appreciate the compliment. And I get how hard it is for you. Stay away from the bloodsuckers.”

“I’m trying.”

“I worry about you.”

“Don’t. When the right girl comes along, I’ll know.”

“I hope you’re looking in the right places.”

I’m not, so I don’t bother to answer. “I need to run.”

She sighs. “Okay. I’m really sorry for what Tanner is going through. Give him my best.”

“Will do.”

I hang up the phone and yell out from the living room. “Are you jerkoffs ready? You two take longer to get dressed than chicks.”

My friends Layton Lancaster and Cruz “Cheetah” Gonzales are staying with me in my New York City penthouse for the night. I play professional baseball for the New York Bombers and they both play for the Philadelphia Cougars. We all share the same agent, Tanner Montgomery. His divorce became finalized this week, and he’s a bit down. We’re taking him out to a steak dinner to both celebrate the end of a long, draining process and cheer him up.

Layton walks out of one of my guestrooms and smooths the sides of his brown hair with both hands. “You can’t rush perfection, DePaul.” He points to his body as he swivels his hips. “The ladies love the whole package. They all want to be#laidbylayton.”

Pathetically,#laidbylaytonis often used on social media bywomen Layton beds and plenty of women he doesn’t. It’s always a trending hashtag and he loves to rub it in our faces.

Cheetah then walks out of the room he’s using. “Lancaster, you’re practically deformed with your weirdly square chin. No woman in her right mind wants that.”

Layton deadpans, “Do you even comprehend how many women clamor to sit on this chin? They fucking dream about it.”

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