Page 81 of Maybe We Can Fake It

He stares at me for a moment. Then his eyes drift down toward my mouth, and he starts to lean in closer. I tense instinctually, which makes him freeze.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

I don’t know what to say. It seems like I’m the one who should be sorry.

Because I want to kiss him too, but I can’t. Not in public. He knew from the start this is how things have to be. Yetthat doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty or wishing it could be different. Wishing I could give him everything.

Reaching between us for his hand, I give it a long squeeze. And I hope maybe that tells him some of the things I can’t.

Ithoughtthefirstthree events were ridiculous, but I wasn’t prepared for this. As someone ties a blindfold around my eyes, I question my sanity. I’m a grown ass man being blindfolded, and it’s not for any kinky sex thing. Nope. I’m about to run through an obstacle course, relying on Brenden to call out directions and keep me from dying.

Okay, maybedeathis dramatic. It’s a simple course. But still. What the fuck.

I’d much rather be the one leading while Brenden makes a fool of himself, but he shot that down real fast. He told me I’m not the best communicator, and I couldn’t argue with that.

“You can’t just grunt and expect me to understand you,” he said.

The thing is, I feel like he understands me better than anyone else, despite my shitty communication skills. But he’s right. I know he’ll do a better job at leading me through this than I would've done for him, but I’m still annoyed about it.

As our time starts and he instructs me to walk and turn and duck and climb, I do my best to follow what he says. It’s not the easiest thing though, and after knocking into a few objects, I grow more and more frustrated. Though I still don’t want to let him down. So I go faster, against my better judgement, and just sort of barrel my way through the course with no regard for my own safety.

I whack my head pretty good on something, but it seems like I finish fairly quickly. Since it’s an individually timed event though, we won’t find out our placement until every team has gone.

Brenden stands close to me while we wait, reaching up a couple times to rub softly at my sore temple. “You did good,” he says.

I shrug. I’m not about to spout off another cheesy line about how much I’d be willing to do for him.

When the results are in, we come in fourth, which isn’t bad. Then Roddy announces a ten-minute break before the final event, the popsicle contest.

Turning back to Brenden, I ask warily, “Popsicle contest?”

“We get a short amount of time to eat as many popsicles as possible and build a house with the sticks.”

The only thing I can think to say is, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

He grins. “Nope. But don’t worry. I’m anexcellentpopsicle sucker.”

The absurd, suggestive look he gives me makes me laugh, despite myself.

“At least this is the last thing we have to do, and then this circus will be over,” I say.

He pokes me in the side playfully. “You’ve complained all day, but I think you’ve had fun.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” he says. “I must be mistaken.”

“Must be,” I reply, the hint of a smile tugging at my lips.

When we take our seats at a plastic fold-out table, he sets his hand on my knee. “For the record,I’vehad a lot of fun with you today.”

Those words hit me right in the chest, causing a warmth to spread through my body.

People like me well enough around town, I guess. But I’m not known as the fun guy. That’s never been me.

Brenden pushes me to do things sometimes, but he accepts my personality for what it is. He’s never really tried to change me. And it’s nice to know he actually enjoys spending time with me. I kind of already figured that he did, but to hear him say it out loud...

It makes me wonder if maybe wecouldbe more than a fake-boyfriends-with-benefits-situation.

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