Fake Boyfriend

By Avery Adams

Ronnie: I need a fake boyfriend to take to my ex-boyfriend's wedding. Nothing screams 'over you' like a hot piece of arm candy. The only problem? This arm candy might be everything I ever wanted.

DJ: After what happened I didn't think I'd ever go back to Tryst again. I mean, sure, being a rent boy pays the bills - and then some - but I nearly lost my life. Then I saw his message… and I am a sucker for a good underdog story. It doesn't hurt that he's hot AF either.
A sweet slow burn rent boy fake boyfriend romance with no cliffhangers and a HEA. Adult language/situations. Trigger warning. Contains descriptions of violence and abuse but not between main characters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cindy Cowles
• Release date: Jan 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393955436

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

DJ

Then…

I’ve waited a long time to be able to say this. Get out. I want you out of my house today.

I tossed a handful of salty butter-laden popcorn in my mouth, pretending for all I was worth his rejection, so soon on the heels on Mom’s death, didn’t bother me. Chewing noisily with my mouth open, I grinned, spraying bits of popped corn everywhere as I spoke, knowing damn well it would irritate the hell out of him, Damn, Pop, will it kill you to wait until after school’s out for the year? That’s only five months away. What will people think when they find out you kicked your own son out of the house before his mother was even cold in the ground?

"How will they know? It isn’t like I’m going to tell them anything."

I heard the insinuation loud and clear, and smirked at him. "Yeah, like Grandma Flora is gonna keep her mouth shut about the way her horrid son-in-law didn’t even have the decency to wait until the dirt was settling over my only child’s casket before he kicked my poor grandchild out into the cold cruel world to sink or swim on his own."

He blanched. You already spoke with Velma’s mother?

Did you really think I didn’t see this coming from a mile away? I shrugged, determined to show this man no emotion whatsoever. I simply reminded her of how well you and I get along and asked her if I could crash at her place until I graduate if I need to.

Well, there you go. There’s no reason for you to stay here, is there? You can ride with her in the funeral procession, too.

"Yep, and when we go to the lawyer’s office for the reading of the will, afterwards. Aren’t you glad you won’t have to tax your brain, trying to come up with a bullet-proof reason why you forgot to wait for me after the funeral?"

He rolled his eyes. Like you’ll be getting anything.

"She was my mother. Do you really think she’d trust you to provide for me after the way we’ve been getting along? Of course she left me something."

Well, I wouldn’t expect much if I were you. He scowled at me. I could practically see the steam rising from the top of his head from how fast the gears were turning in there. It was obvious, at least to me, he wasn’t nearly as sure as he was trying to appear to be. After an extended stretch of silence, he sighed, Fine. You can stay until after the reading of the will, but I want you out of the house before I come home from work the very next day.

Wow. I blinked. What changed your mind?

I should have known better. He grinned at me, not even trying to hide the wicked glint in his eye. "It’ll be worth the hassle of enduring your presence for a couple more days if I know I’ll get to watch you bawl like a little bitch at the end when you finally realize you ain’t getting a dime from your loving mother."

Man, that was cold. What kind of father wants to see their child cry? Anticipates it with such glee? A chill snaked through me, stiffening my backbone as it went.

Well, now I’m torn. I chewed my lip, studying his face. I wanted to stay and see if we could mend our bridges but having you call me homo or faggot or bitch every time I turn around is getting old quick.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have decided to be a little peter puffer then, huh? If you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.

"Decided?" Seriously? My hands curled into fists at my sides and my nails dug half-moons in my palms as I struggled to keep my cool. "You think I just woke up one day and said eh, I’m tired of girls. I think I’ll be attracted to boys for a while? Huh? Is that what you think? Or maybe you think I did it just to piss you off? Is that it? We were fighting and I just up and went I think I’ll turn gay just to piss off my old man. Is that the way your mind is working? Man, you’re fucking crazy."

What did you call me?

What? Crazy? Something broke inside me and I decided to push back for a change; see how he liked it. "Aw, you don’t like people saying you’re a little cray-cray? Insane in the ol’ brain? Nucking futs? A sandwich shy of a full picnic? Fruit Loops? Bonkers? Nutso? Off your rocker? Well, welcome to the club, old man. How about if you can’t stand the heat then you stay out of the kitchen cuz I can take it just fucking fine—dish it out pretty fucking good, too."

That’s enough of your mouth!

I laughed, "Yeah, that’s definitely not what he said." I realized what I said about five seconds too late—right about the time his whole face flushed scarlet. Well, fuck me. I braced myself, mentally preparing to get my ass whooped. Gay jokes were so not okay in our house— not unless he was the one making them at my expense— and I knew it was about to hit the fan.

Man, I hate when I’m proven right.

His eyes rolled in his head and he let out a wordless roar as he swept a collection of porcelain elephants off the built-in bookshelf by the door between the kitchen into the living room. I gasped as they shattered into millions of pieces on the tile floor. Those were part of Mom’s treasured elephant collection she’d been building since she was a little kid. Many of them were irreplaceable— and he didn’t even notice what he’d done. He reminded me of a volcano on the verge of exploding as he snarled, Get the fuck out of my house, you little shit packer. If I never see your face again, it’ll be too soon.

Well… it looks like we arrived just in time, doesn’t it?

We? I blinked, dazed, and stared through the archway toward the front door and the short slender silver-haired woman posed there. Grandma? What are you doing here?

I’m here to make sure you get all your stuff out of this house, sugar.

Pop shook his head. He can take the clothes he’s wearing. I’m throwing everything else in the garbage.

Like hell you are!

My eyes bulged. Grandma!

"I know, but he asked for it, DJ. This is why I showed up. She’s barely drawn her last breath and this piece of crap is already trying to throw his weight around like he thinks he’s King Shit."

Pop stiffened his back, standing military straight despite never having served a day in his life, This is my mother-fucking house and I’ll throw my weight around if I damn well want to.

Bullshit, she spat. This is DJ’s house. My daughter paid for it without a penny of help from your sorry ass and it’ll be a cold day in hell before you’ll steal it from him. The only reason you think you can claim it is because she was naive enough to take you as her husband.

His face nearly purple, he snapped, That tears it. I’ve had enough of your mouth, too, old woman. Both of you—out before I throw you out on your asses!

She stepped back out of his reach and pulled the door open, Officer Hager, would you come in here, please? And if he lays a hand on me or my grandson, I want to press charges.

Yes, ma’am, a tall gorgeous drink of water in a familiar blue uniform stepped into view. He must have been waiting on the porch in case he was needed. Way to go, Grandma! He nodded at me, Son, go get whatever you want to take with you. Be sure to grab anything you want to keep because I can almost guarantee you—if you leave it behind it won’t be here when you come back.

Yes, sir, I nodded, swallowing hard and striving to avoid looking in Pop’s direction as I headed for the stairs. I knew it wouldn’t take me long to grab everything. I’d already packed up the majority of the stuff I couldn’t easily replace when he was out and I had the chance.

Pop took a threatening step toward me, arm extended, "I said he isn’t taking anything except the clothes on his back—"

Officer Hager advanced too, his hand on the butt of his gun. Sir, don’t make me arrest you and take you in for child abuse.

On what grounds? Pop’s eyes bugged out. He’s practically grown!

He’s seventeen, Grandma protested, and still legally a minor. He hasn’t even graduated high school, for Pete’s sake— much less college!

Fine, he can pack a few changes of clothing, but that’s it, and I’m going—

I’ll tell you what you’re going to do, sir. You’re going to stay right there, keeping your hands where I can see them the whole time. The officer stepped between my father and the stairs, nodding for me to go ahead.

Fine, I’l just go through his bags when he comes back down.

No, you won’t, my grandmother disagreed. I know what you’re after, and you aren’t getting any of it.

Officer Hager raised a curious brow, What’s he after?

DJ’s game consoles and video games, his bank book and ATM card, and the brand new top-of-the-line gaming laptop I gave him for his birthday a few months back.

Sweet! He grinned up at me as I hesitated on the stairs, Happy late birthday.

Thanks.

I play on the computer in my spare time, too. What games you play? Let me guess… WoW?

I blushed. That, Mafia Trilogy, and Doom Eternal.

He whistled under his breath, Never would have pegged you for a Doom Eternal player. That’s an intense game. He motioned for me to continue what I was doing, but I could tell he was impressed, Go on and grab your stuff. If you need any help carrying anything, give me a shout. I’d be more than happy to lend a hand to a fellow gamer.

Thanks, I will.

If looks could kill, Pop would have dropped all of us in our tracks when I came back downstairs struggling under a bulging duffle bag and two backpacks overflowing with stuff I couldn’t force myself to leave behind. He was eyeing the backpack with my PlayStation and Xbox consoles, and all my games, with lustful avarice, but when he caught a glimpse of the Asus ROG Gram had given me as a combination birthday and Christmas present, I just knew he was gonna try to snatch it. I could see it in his eyes. The temptation to defy authority was written all over his face, and I didn’t relax until I was safely out of reach.

Officer Hager held out his free hand and tossed the duffle bag over his shoulder like it was empty. That everything?

I just have to run to the top of the stairs and grab my TV. I didn’t want to tackle those steps while carrying all this and it, too.

Aight, he nodded. Put those two bags in your grandmother’s SUV, and come back for this one, then you can grab it.

Heading back up several minutes later,