by Eden Finley
“I don’t need him, but I realize that the reason he didn’t want me was because we were completely wrong for each other and better off as friends. Our breakup had nothing to do with me. It’s just that we weren’t supposed to end up together.” I step forward and grip Wyatt’s hips, bringing them against me. “I’m with the person I’m supposed to end up with.”
Wyatt’s cool eyes stare up at me. “Really?”
“I love you, Wy. You have to know that.” I pretty much fell in love with him on our first official date.
Who knows, maybe I fell for him years ago and just didn’t know it. We’ve both settled into the relationship so easily it feels like we’ve been together for years. Maybe being friends for so long beforehand has helped with that, but I like to think it’s because we were made for each other.
“Well, I do now,” Wyatt says. “But that’s the first time you’ve said it.”
“I didn’t want to scare you off. It’s technically only been two months.”
“I knew I loved you about six weeks ago.” His voice is soft and warm, and I love it almost as much as I love him.
I smile. “Me too. So much for being completely honest with each other, huh?”
“I didn’t want to seem crazy.”
I lower my head into the crook of his neck. “Aww, babe, you are crazy, but I already knew that, and I love you anyway.”
“If I’m crazy, you’re a loser.”
“Match made in heaven.”
My hand cups his face, and I cover his mouth with mine. I’ll never tire of the sweet little moans he makes while I kiss him. I love sharing my bed—or his—with him. We’re trading off on places right now, but I hope one day soon to ask him to move in. It’s super-fast which is why I’ve held off, but after a couple more months, there won’t be anything stopping me from getting down on one knee and asking him to move in with me.
If I were ever to propose for real to Wyatt, he’d probably never believe me, because I basically get down on my knee for every little thing. It drives him crazy, but I’m convinced he secretly loves it.
Wyatt pulls back, and I groan. “We need to get going or we’ll be late.”
“Can’t we be a little late?” I rock my hips against his.
He stares down at my half-hard cock tenting in my jeans. “I guess ten minutes of waiting for us won’t kill them.”
“Ten minutes? Fuck, better make it fast.”
Wyatt merely sinks to his knees with a confident smirk on his lips.
Yup, I definitely love this guy.
Okay, I totally understand what Wyatt was nervous about now. As we sit with our friends, silently debating on when exactly to do this—to tell them all they basically haven’t seen us for two months because we’ve been too busy fucking—Noah walks into the bar and heads straight for me like he’s on a mission.
Fuck.
“Hey, have you got a sec?” Noah glances around the table where our friends stare on wide-eyed, and if I’m not mistaken, Wyatt looks a little worried. Or wary.
I guess now’s as good a time as any to put it out there and reassure my boyfriend in the process. Leaning in closer to Wyatt, I cup his face and kiss his lips softly. “I’ll be back soon, okay, babe?”
His eyes widen even more if possible.
The others are in a similar state of shock.
I’m the first one out of the bar, and Noah trails after me. Then we’re both on the street, staring at each other awkwardly.
Fun.
Noah’s always been this guy who has more confidence than anyone could need, more arrogance than anyone likes, and a self-absorbed attitude. The guy standing in front of me, with his head down, his blue-green eyes dull … it’s not the Noah we hate to love.
He says “I’m sorry” at the same time “I want to thank you” falls out of my mouth.
Noah cocks his head and lets out a tiny laugh. “Thank me?”
“It took you walking away for me to see what was right in front of me the whole time.”
“You and Wyatt?” There’s no condescension in his tone like when we ran into Wyatt’s ex, just pure curiosity. He breaks into a smile. “I can actually see that. Like, it makes sense.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yup. We, uh … I dunno. We just work.”
“How long?”
I look away. “Couple of months.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, wow. So when you say it took me walking away, you literally mean as soon as I did …”
My eyes narrow. “Is that jealousy I hear, because I’m pretty sure you moved on well before I did.”
“No,” he says quickly. “It’s just … shit, I’ve been feeling guilty about the way I handled … our whole situation. I went about it the wrong way, and until recently where I personally experienced that kind of heartache—”
“It was rejection,” I say. “I thought it was heartache, but it wasn’t. I was never in love with you. I thought I was, but with Wyatt …”
Noah’s smile becomes blinding, it’s so wide. “It’s totally different. I understand. A couple of months ago, I wouldn’t have, but then I met Matt, and …”
“Everything fits.”
He nods.
It sucks we had to lose what was once a decent friendship, and while I’d lecture myself on being foolish and an idiot for doing it in the first place, I have to wonder if Wyatt and I would’ve happened had I not gone through all the shit with Noah.
I shove my hands in my pockets. “Does this mean we can go back to being friends?”
“Really?” His voice, uncharacteristically quiet and exuding a vulnerability I didn’t know Noah possessed, shows off the guy I thought I fell for—the one who lets people in and isn’t a dick for the sake of being a dick. If Matt’s got him to open up this way, I’m happy he’s found someone who can tear down his frustrating walls.
“Even though your attitude can be annoying as fuck, I’ve actually missed you.”
“Fuck yes.” He lets out a relieved breath. “Can we please hug it out?”
“You, Mr. I Don’t Cuddle?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, and I smile.
I step into his arms, and that zing I used to feel when he touched me doesn’t even make an appearance.
“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he whispers. “I really am. I didn’t—”
“I’m sorry for making you feel guilt over something that wasn’t even your fault.”
We stand holding each other a few seconds longer until Noah pulls back.
“Did we just have, like, an adult conversation?”
I screw up my face. “Fuck, what’s next? Marriage? Kids? God, I don’t want to grow up.”
Noah laughs. “I think that’s why we always got along so well.”
“Our shared Peter Pan syndrome?”
“Exactly.”
“We better get back in there,” I say. “Apparently, it’s the last catch-up you’ll make for a while. Moving to Chicago, huh?”
“If Wyatt was relocated to Chicago, would you go?”
I don’t hesitate. “In a heartbeat.”
“That’s how I feel about Matt.”
I smile, and it’s not even forced. “If you need any help moving, hit me and Wyatt up.”
His brow furrows, as if he thinks my gesture is empty.
“I’m happy for you. I mean that.”
And as my gaze lands on Wyatt when we enter the bar, Noah grips my shoulder and squeezes. “I’m super happy for you guys too.”
Wyatt stares at us, and I don’t miss the cute concentration line on his forehead. We don’t break gazes as I approach the table, and when I wrap my arms around Wyatt and nuzzle into his neck, everyone at the table breaks into awws.
“So, you told them?” I ask, kissing his neck before settling on the stool next to his.
“Technically you did,” he says with a wry smile.
“Nah, I kiss all my friends. Everyone should know that by now.”
“Well, you have kiss
ed fifty percent of the people at this table,” Wyatt says.
“Who wants to make that percentage higher?” I joke, but Wyatt reaches over and covers my mouth with his hand.
“Not on your life.”
I lick his hand, making him pull it back.
“You’re gross,” he complains and wipes his hands on his pants. I want to tell him he’s had a lot worse things of mine on his hand than saliva, but I refrain.
“You still love me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Skylar looks as if she’s about to cry from happiness, her fiancée looks confused, and Maddox and Damon have matching grins.
It’s Noah, though, who appears at the table with a tray full of drinks. “Well, this was going to be my goodbye present to you all, but now it’s gonna be a celebration. To Aron and Wyatt.”
We each raise a glass just in time for Noah to finish his sentiment.
“Two blind motherfuckers who didn’t realize their perfect partner had been by their side for eight fucking years.”
I have to laugh. There’s the Noah we’re all used to.
As we clink glasses, our other traitorous friends say, “To two blind motherfuckers.”
Thank You
Thank you for reading Rebound.
It’s Complicated
Fake Boyfriend 3.5
It’s Complicated Copyright © 2019 by Eden Finley
* * *
Cover Illustration Copyright ©
Kellie Dennis at Book Cover By Design
www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk
* * *
Copy-edited by One Love Editing
https://oneloveediting.com/
* * *
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher.
For information regarding permission, write to:
Eden Finley - permissions - [email protected]
Premise
Max:
* * *
I thought watching my best friend and brother be together was hard enough. Then they had to go and break up and all those feelings I’ve been harboring for Ash have resurfaced with a vengeance.
But I can’t do anything about it, and I’ve been trying to squash my ever-growing need for him, unsuccessfully.
I can’t chase after him, and here’s why:
One, he’s engaged to another man. Two, he’s my best friend and business partner. Three, he has no idea I’m not straight. And four, he’s my brother’s ex-boyfriend. That’s a massive bro-code violation.
Ash and I can’t happen.
Ever.
* * *
Ash:
Why are men such dicks? No, really. Why?
Closeted NHL players, corporate A-holes who are using me … relationships shouldn’t be this hard.
Why can’t there be a gay version of my best friend, Max, who’s perfect for me in every way except for the fact he’s not into guys?
At least, that’s what I think. Walking in on him and another guy turns my entire world upside down.
Now all I want is for us to have a real chance, but Max will never let that happen. He won’t disrespect his brother that way, and I understand it. I do.
I just wish we could find a way.
* * *
**It’s Complicated can be read as a standalone but is best read in conjunction with Deke (Fake Boyfriend book 3). While it belongs in the Fake Boyfriend universe, it does not contain a fake boyfriend trope.**
Prologue
ASH
The first time Max Strömberg broke my heart was when we were fourteen years old. I’d known for three years that I was head over heels in love with the boy next door. While he was talking about girls, I was thinking about him.
Part of me always hoped that he was putting on a front like I was when I’d say a girl in our class was cute, but deep down I knew it was wishful thinking.
No one knew I liked boys, and that was probably because I hung out with the jocks of the school. For being a scrawny, short dude, I was never picked on, and I can only thank the Strömberg brothers for that. All five of them.
Even at three years younger than us, Ollie, the youngest Strömberg brother, was bigger than me.
I don’t know what possessed me to do it that day—to out myself to my best friend. Maybe I was sick of holding in the secret I’d figured out when I was eleven. Maybe I wanted him to stop talking about the group of girls across the cafeteria who were staring and whispering about us.
“If you had to pick one, who would you go out with?” He’d asked me this five times by that point.
My answers of: “I don’t care,” “Any of them,” and “I dunno, it’s too hard to choose” weren’t good enough until I finally said, “None of them.”
Max’s gaze flicked to mine, and he held my stare.
I lowered my voice and glanced at the mac and cheese in front of me. “I think I’m into dudes.”
Okay, so I knew I was into dudes, aka him. I didn’t know why I was playing it down like I wasn’t confident in my words. I might’ve been hoping he’d confess to his own confusion because that’d be more likely than the off chance he’d been pining for me all that time too.
“That’s cool.” Max shrugged. “We don’t have to talk about girls.”
“What, you want to talk about guys?” I scoffed and played it off like I wasn’t hanging all future hopes on his answer.
“Well, no, but you’re still my best friend, Ash. Always will be.” Then the asshole flicked some of his mac and cheese at me.
That may or may not have resulted in a food fight which we got in trouble for. We had to clean the floor of the cafeteria during detention. All the while we were cleaning, I waited for a shift to happen. A change. I waited for him to act differently around me, but he never did.
And that’s what broke my heart.
Nothing changed between us because there was nothing but friendship coming from his side.
I immediately wished I hadn’t told him.
Ignorance and hopeful wishing didn’t make my chest ache the way longing for my straight best friend did.
So I forced myself to move on.
And I did. Eventually.
It took a few years, but as soon as we got to college, there was no holding me back.
Max was always still a constant in my life, in my mind, in my heart … and in my dorm room. We roomed together all four years.
The second time Max broke my heart was junior year. His girlfriend’s name was Laura, and she was perfect, and they were perfectly perfect with all their coupleness.
He’d had girlfriends before. I’d been kicked out of our dorm room countless times while he was hooking up. That was different.
We were at the student cafeteria on campus when he’d said the words he’d never said before.
“I’m in love with her.”
I blinked at him. “Whoa.”
He stared at me like I was supposed to say more.
“I mean … congrats? I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here.” I began to hate cafeterias.
Max scrutinized me to the point I was paranoid about having done something wrong. “That’s all you have to say?”
“I like her. She’s … nice.” That was true, but it didn’t make me hate her less.
“That’s it?”
I threw up my hands in defeat. “Why don’t you tell me what you want me to say?”
“I thought maybe you’d say the same about that Jordan asshole you’re seeing.”
“Jordan is not an asshole.” He was kind of an asshole, but in a cute, cocky way, not in the genuinely mean way.
“Do you love him?”
The answer to that was a resounding no, because I’d only ever been in love with one person, and that guy was sitting right in front of me.
“I think we’d be better off as friends. We’re not … compatible.” Which w
as also true.
In my years of hooking up and exploring, I’d come to one giant conclusion. I didn’t like bottoming. Honestly, it was too much work and prepping for little reward. Jordan and I both lacked versatility in that area. If we were in love and I could see a future, it wouldn’t be a big deal. I knew lots of gay guys who didn’t do anal. But I didn’t feel enough for Jordan to compromise on that. The longer Jordan and I were together, the more I realized he fit more a best-friend label than boyfriend. Maybe not on Max’s best-friend level but close.
“Oh.” Max’s brow scrunched. “I thought …”
“Thought what?”
“I thought things were different with him. You seem … close.”
I had to be reading into the jealousy I was sensing. Unless … “Aww, are you scared Jordan’s going to take your place as my best friend? You know that won’t happen. You promised we’d be together forever.”
Max nodded. “I know I did. Forever and ever. Forget I said anything. We’ll always be best friends. No one can take that from us.”
It was the reminder again that friends was all we’d ever be.
It was the same reminder that flashed through my head eighteen months later when Max’s little brother asked me out.
Max and I would never happen.
But Ollie and I could.
1
MAX
I walk back into the tattoo shop after my lunch break, never failing to get that welcome home feeling in the pit of my gut. This place is what Ash and I built from the ground up. It’s home. It’s where both Ash and I belong.
