Real Fake Husband: A MM Contemporary Fake Married Romance

by Lily Light

  7

  Ryan

  I was going to die of embarrassment. The moment I saw Noah with his hand on his dick, I should’ve excused myself and left. I didn’t. I stood there, gawking and wondering. Wondering if it was me Noah thought about while he jerked off.

  I hugged the laptop to my chest, remembering how I bolted like a coward. The door behind me opened. I let out a squeak and took a step backward.

  “Hey, sorry about just now. I don’t want things to get weird between us,” Noah said.

  He ran a hand through his sexy and mussed up hair.

  “You mean weirder than they already are?” Thank God I found my voice. I continued, “You have nothing to worry about. We’re both adults.”

  At least I shouldn’t be acting like some scandalized teenager who walked into his crush masturbating. Why did a part of me hope that I was the one who starred in Noah’s erotic fantasies?

  What happened in Vegas, never really stayed in Vegas. During nights when I felt lonely, I was guilty of jerking off to that memory of me riding Noah’s dick.

  Parts of it were starting to come back to me. Did alcohol give me the courage to act the way I did? So shameless. So wild. Not like me at all.

  “Good,” he said.

  He returned to his room and I retreated to my spot in the kitchen. I told myself I’d finished the ad I was working on.

  Too bad my mind was all over the place. I barely got any work done by the time dinner time arrived. Noah emerged from his room just as I closed the lid of my laptop. I decided to try again tomorrow.

  Maybe I could go to a cafe or something to get shit done, then again why would I? It would just send the wrong message to Noah.

  I didn’t want him to know I was still embarrassed about what happened earlier. Or the fact I wanted to slide into the sheets and jerk off with him.

  “I’m cooking dinner,” he announced.

  I gave him a skeptical look. “Jordan says you can’t cook for shit.”

  “Guilty as charged. I just wanted to make things up to you.”

  “There’s nothing to make up for,” I said quickly. “I should’ve knocked first.”

  I did knock but when Noah didn’t answer, I just barged into the room like I owned the place. Which technically I did, but why sweat the small stuff?

  “How about I cook and you assist me?” I offered.

  We ended up making bolognese pasta. There was still some leftover lettuce, so we made a salad to go along with our main dish.

  At one point he asked, “What are you doing?”

  I’d taken out my phone and snapped a shot of him holding the frying pan and wearing my apron.

  “New photos to upload,” I told him. I posted it online, along with the hashtag #cookingwithmyhothusband.

  As we sat down to eat at the counter, I wondered why it felt so comfortable hanging out with him.

  “This is amazing,” he said after taking a forkful of pasta.

  “It’s just spaghetti.”

  “I haven’t had a boyfriend, much less a husband cook for me. This is sweet.”

  Was he still guilty about earlier? There had to be a reason he was buttering me up. I focused on his words.

  “Never?” I asked. “Plus, you helped make this.”

  “Nope,” he said. “I lived on fast food takeouts and deliveries. That’s why I always hang out at Jordan’s place. He also knows how to cook.”

  “Do you miss not being able to hang out with my brother?” I asked, knowing those two weren’t talking yet.

  “That loser? Not at all.”

  Noah was lying. I could tell. I made up my mind to give my annoying brother a call after dinner. Noah sometimes went for a night jog at nine. The guy was a fitness freak. Then again, he might just be restless because he still hadn’t found a job.

  “You’re totally checking my body out, not that I mind. My husband has that right,” he remarked.

  I nearly choked on my last bite of spaghetti.

  “What? Don’t be full of yourself.”

  Noah gave me a skeptical look. I put down my fork.

  “Ok fine. Maybe I was. It’s hard not to do especially when I have you as a roommate.”

  “On a scale of one to ten and ten being the best, how awful am I as a roommate?”

  I was tempted to tell him one, but I’d be lying. I hated liars.

  “A seven or eight,” I finally said.

  “Nice. What merited this high score?” He asked. Noah sounded curious.

  “I thought you’d be a slob like Jordan, but you’re surprisingly a neat freak.”

  “Kind of like you.” Before I could protest, he added, “You arrange your towels not just by brand but also by color.”

  “How else would you arrange it?”

  “Jordan would just mix in everything.”

  Noah was right. We ended up talking a bit more. I liked our light conversations. It seemed Noah genuinely wanted to get to know me better.

  Faint danger bells rang in my head. I badly wanted to believe Noah was starting to really like me. That made me feel a little lofty except I knew this path would only lead to heartache.

  I got dumped once and I never fully recovered. I thought less and less of Parker, especially when Noah moved in.

  I still couldn’t help but wonder why we ended up breaking up. Was there something wrong with me, or were Parker and I just that incompatible?

  “I’ll wash the dishes,” he offered.

  “No, I’ll do it.” I could see he was about to argue so I offered an alternative. “Wash together?”

  “Cook together and washing dishes together. We make a fine couple, don’t we?”

  My heart hammered a little faster at the word ‘couple’. Living in close quarters with Noah, it was easy to imagine him as my real husband.

  What made us work so far was the fact this was all fake. If this was truly genuine, I doubted we’d get along this well. Married couples fought all the time.

  “Well then, I’m going for my run,” he said after we were done with our chores.

  “Start slow,” I called to him as he disappeared inside his room to change.

  Once he was gone, I picked up my cellphone and called my brother. Jordan answered after the second ring.

  “Trouble in paradise already?” Was the first thing he asked.

  “What? Of course not. I’m calling you to stop giving us so much shit. Why don’t you and Noah make up? Your fight is stupid.”

  “It’s not stupid. He went behind my back. I felt betrayed he didn’t tell me you guys were ‘seeing’ each other.”

  Jordan emphasized the word ‘seeing’.

  Jordan continued, “Imagine yourself in my shoes. One morning you suddenly found out your little brother impulsively married your best friend.”

  “I’m 28, Jordan, just in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I know how old you are. I think you’re still on a rebound. That’s the only explanation for your rash actions. You’re not over Parker. That’s why you’re still continuing this fake relationship with Noah.”

  “Let’s not talk about my relationship with Noah for a little bit. I’m sick of trying to explain myself to you.”

  Noah and I still posted photos of us living together on our social media accounts to keep our cover alive. Many of our friends and families were surprised we were together. Some were skeptical we’d last long.

  My parents were mostly supportive and insisted on meeting Noah officially. Only Ian knew our relationship wasn’t real.

  That reminded me, I needed to give Ian an update.

  “Why are you calling me again?” Jordan asked.

  “I know you’re miserable as Noah. You guys have known each other since kindergarten.”

  “He’s miserable?” Jordan asked too enthusiastically.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “So are you. Admit it.” I took a deep breath.

  This was like being in the middle of a tug of war between Noah and Jordan. I
was getting tired of it.

  “Look, Ryan. I’m just looking out for you. I love Noah like my other brother but he’s never been relationship material.”

  “People can change,” I reminded him.

  “Not Noah.” Jordan paused. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  There was genuine concern in Jordan’s voice.

  “I won’t. I was too dumb to see Parker and I weren’t working out. I’m in this relationship with Noah with my eyes wide open. You can do something for me though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Try to make up with Noah. You’re best friends. I can’t imagine not texting or talking to Ian for a single day.”

  “Fine.”

  There was a knock on my door and I ended the call with my brother. I figured it was a delivery man who got lost but when I opened my door, Ian was standing there. He lifted a brown paper bag bearing the logo of my favorite cheesecake shop.

  “Dessert?” He asked.

  I let him in. Ian sometimes popped in uninvited but I didn’t mind the extra company.

  “Where’s your man?” He asked, looking around the apartment.

  We settled in my living room. I made us coffee and placed the cakes on two plates before returning to him.

  “He went out jogging.”

  “Doesn’t he jog in the mornings, too?” Ian asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

  I took a slice of my cake, moaning as it melted on my tongue.

  “Yeah, he’s restless I think. I genuinely hope he’ll be able to find a job soon.”

  “Do you really?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “If he manages to find a job, then he won’t need to live here with you anymore.”

  I nudged him sharply in the ribs. “Of course I want what’s good for him.”

  “What about what’s good for you?”

  I scowled at him. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  Ian set his coffee down and raised his hands in mock defeat.

  “Chill, cousin. I’m on your side, remember?”

  I scoffed.

  “You’ve had a crush on him for a long time. How long will this friendly arrangement last before you guys start going at it like rabbits?”

  “Rabbits?” I asked skeptically. “We’ve only had sex once. Once was enough.”

  “Oh come on, Ryan. You said he was the best lay you’ve ever had.”

  That was true enough and I didn’t hide anything from my best friend. Ian took out his phone and scrolled to my Instagram account.

  “These recent pics you posted are cute by the way. Does Noah know you’re halfway in love with him?”

  I threw a cushion at him. “I’m not. What are you talking about? I hate his guts, remember?”

  “Sure, you tell that to everyone you know but come on, Ryan. It’s me you’re talking to you. Your crush never went away, did it?”

  Ian made an excellent point but he wasn’t done. “Besides, he threw up on you ten years ago. That’s a long time to hate someone over one accident.”

  I finished my cake, not commenting. Ian was right of course. I didn’t hate Noah. I never did. He’d apologized a hundred times for that unfortunate incident.

  Even when I was with Parker, my crush on Noah dimmed a little but it hadn’t gone away. I’d grown cynical over the years but there was a hopeful part of me that still wanted to believe Noah and I would end up together. A silly part.

  The door opened, revealing Noah, shirtless and only wearing his jogging shoes and his tight, black jogging shorts.

  I ogled him, feeling a little unattractive after gobbling two slices of cake. Sweat beaded his chest and back. He noticed Ian and me chatting in the living room.

  “Hey, didn’t know we had company. How’s it going, Ian?” Noah greeted.

  “Good, I just stopped by after work but I’m leaving soon,” Ian answered.

  “Stay as long as you like. I need a shower,” he said.

  Once he was back in his room, Ian pretended to fan himself. “Wow, Ryan. Did I mention your husband was hot?”

  “You didn’t need to gawk at him like a lusty teenager.”

  What was happening? I definitely sounded a tad jealous and of course, Ian didn’t miss it. He smirked at me.

  “I’m just saying you’re in for a world of trouble, bestie.”

  I didn’t doubt it of course. I was digging a hole and I didn’t know my way out of it.

  8

  Noah

  “We’ll give you a call if you passed the first round of interviews, Mr. Collins.”

  Trisha, the HR Manager for Pierce and Marshall stood up and offered me her manicured hand. I gave it a shake and left the room.

  I loosened my tie as I went down the elevator and exited the building. Once outside, I breathed in the fresh air, then sighed. I doubted I’d get a call from this firm.

  This job search was getting tedious. Frustration welled inside me. I wasn’t getting anywhere. In the back of my mind, a voice whispered I wasn’t trying hard enough.

  Maybe that voice was right. Getting a job meant I no longer had any excuse to keep staying at Ryan’s apartment, not when I could afford my own place.

  Then there was the whole pretend marriage thing. Maybe Ryan wouldn’t ask me to go, because we needed to keep up this charade.

  All I wanted to do was to head back to the apartment. I knew Ryan was working at this time of the day, so I wouldn’t bother him.

  I just needed to see him, talk to him. Then I’d feel better immediately. He was an instant cure during days like these. Maybe we could cook dinner again together. I wasn’t in the mood for my night jog.

  Maybe we could cuddle in the living room and watch some shows together. God. What was I turning into?

  Cuddling with someone was not something I ever envisioned doing. I was used to setting up quickies with hook-ups.

  We met, fucked, then never saw each other again. I could see myself draping my body over Ryan and Ryan resting his head against my chest.

  Our eyes would be glued on the TV at first, but then we’d focus on each other. Maybe we’d start jerking each other off and then—-

  My phone rang and I was surprised to see Jordan was calling. I debated ignoring his call but on second thought, I answered him. This ridiculous feud couldn’t go on forever. Besides, Ryan was the one caught in the middle of our fight.

  “Hey,” I answered. “What’s up?”

  There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

  For a moment, I thought my reception was shitty. I pulled my phone away from my ear. Huh. Five bars.

  “Jordan, hearing your heavy breathing is starting to get a little creepy.”

  “It’s just, I finally finished the Buick. The first person I wanted to call was you,” Jordan said lamely.

  He almost sounded embarrassed. The Blue Buick was Jordan’s passion project. He bought the old car back when we were in high school and worked on it during his free time.

  “Want me to come over?” I finally asked.

  “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

  “I’ll bring beer and pizza so we could celebrate.”

  On one hand, I wanted to come home to Ryan but I also wanted to fix this mess with Jordan. I sent Ryan a text.

  Noah: My interview sucked. Jordan called. I’m going over to his place for dinner.

  Ryan: Ouch, sorry about your interview. Finally, you guys are talking again?

  Noah: Talking is stretching it a little.

  Ryan: I know you guys. You’ll work shit out. Update me.

  Noah: I’ll tell you all about it once I get home.

  I dropped by Jordan’s favorite pizza place. Then with two large Hawaiian pizzas in hand, I grabbed a six-pack from the nearby convenience store.

  I headed to Jordan’s apartment on the Lower East Side. I knocked on the door. I heard a curse from inside, then Jordan answered.

  He looked relieved to see me, then he must’ve remembered things were still awkward between us. He cleared
his throat.

  “Hey, thanks for coming over. Want to eat first or go to the garage?”

  “Let’s eat at the garage,” I suggested.

  Jordan had been working as a mechanic for the same car repair shop for six years.

  He and the owner were tight, so the guy let Jordan park his old Buick in the shop and let Jordan come and go as he pleased. The shop was just a block away from his place. We walked.

  “I’m hungry, give me a slice,” he said. “You got Hawaiian, right?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Yeah, with no pineapple. Dude, I still stand by my original argument. It’s not Hawaiian if there isn’t any pineapple. That’s just ham and cheese pizza.”

  He snorted. I’ve mocked him about this a hundred times. We pretended like there was nothing wrong between us. By the time we reached the shop, the first pizza had been decimated. He opened the store and turned on the lights.

  The 1970 Buick GSX actually looked fantastic. I noticed Jordan had given it a new paint job as well, making it appear brand new.

  I grabbed a beer and took several sips while Jordan talked my ear off about his baby. He must’ve told me a thousand times that only 488 of these cars were made.

  He rattled off the same facts that I’ve probably memorized by heart by now. I let him talk because there was still obvious tension between us.

  “Does she run smoothly?” I finally asked.

  At this point, we’d finished all the pizza. We also had had one can of beer each

  “Hell yeah. Let’s take her for a spin.”

  We got inside the car. He started the engine and backed out of the shop.

  Jordan remembered to lock the garage before returning to the car. We cruised around the neighborhood with our windows down.

  Jordan had installed an air-conditioning unit but we decided it was nice to let the night air in. I didn’t know what to tell him.

  We’ve ghosted each other for almost two weeks now. The silence hung heavy between us. Both of us were never great at apologies.

  “So Ryan called me the other night,” he began.

  “Yeah, he told me.”

  “You guys tell each other everything?” He asked.