Sunday, September 28, 2025
Sunday's Short Stack: Five Fake Dates by DJ Jamison
Adam
I've got it bad for my best friend, but he's only had eyes for my sister since we were kids. I don't know what I'll do if they hook up -- especially after a drunken kiss West doesn't seem to remember. Seeing them together just might kill me, so why I offer to help him hone his dating skills, I'll never know. FML.
West
Ever since a drunken kiss we haven't talked about, I've been seeing Adam in a new light. Trouble is, he thinks I want his sister. This whole bisexual awakening thing is scary, and I don't want to risk our friendship by moving too fast. But when Adam mocks my dating skills, I come up with a genius plan: Five Fake Dates. Adam thinks he's helping me, and I get to test the waters without risking our friendship. Win-win!
A few fake dates, increasingly real kisses, and a tiny deception between friends. What could go wrong?
Five Fake Dates was originally written for a promotional giveaway to fans. It has been expanded to approximately 27,000 words and now has a little more spice and a bonus epilogue with HEA!
The Favor
Adam
West is such a slob.
He was a beautiful slob, the kind of guy who slept in his clothes, rolled out of bed with messy but perfect hair, and looked like a model when he flashed a crooked smile. I would hate him, except I kind of already loved him.
Which … sucked. Because West was my best friend. Tricky. Also: West had a major hard-on for my older sister. Disturbing.
Ever since we were ten years old, West had been trailing after Hannah, fourteen at the time, dying for an ounce of her attention — which he never got. But this year, we were heading home for our first summer break since starting college, and West had bulked up. His shoulders and chest now stretched the limits of his T-shirts. I’d tell him to buy new T-shirts, except I was enjoying the view. He’d grown a nice layer of stubble, which transported his boyishly cute face into devilishly handsome. West had become a man — a hot man. So, naturally, I was a little worried the inevitable was going to happen this summer break: West, my sister, my heart beneath their feet. Not that they’d know, because I’d die before I’d tell either of them what West really meant to me.
Normally, I could trust in Hannah’s apathy, even with West rising to Hotness Level 12, but Hannah had recently broken up with her boyfriend of five years. She’d be on the rebound, and what was better than a summer fling? She’d been dating the same guy since West had been old enough to even be a possibility for her. Why, oh why, had I let him go to the gym so much this year while I studied? I should have been plying him with cheesecake and those lame action movies he liked, so he was my same old lazy-ass, weak-limbed friend. Not West 2.0. I didn’t want an upgrade. I’d loved the original.
After zipping up my organized suitcase, I turned to kick West’s bed. “Hey, get up. We have to get on the road.”
West snorted and rolled over, his shoulders and upper chest bare above the sheets. I tried not to look at his body too closely, despite our close living quarters. It was like staring into the sun; I was only going to get burned.
“I’ll leave you here, and then how will you ever make Hannah love you?”
West jerked into an upright position. “Huh? Wha… I’m awake.”
See? Hannah on the brain even while sleeping.
She’d always been a good motivator… if your goal was humiliation and injury, anyway. West had done truly mortifying things in his early teenage years to try to impress her. He broke his collarbone while trying to wow her with his mad skateboarding skills. He’d made our dog, Spirit, howl in misery when West tried to serenade her. West was super cute, but his voice was a train wreck. He wrote her a poem once … the less said about that, the better.
At first, I found it just as funny as everyone else. Well, except for feeling a little bad when my best friend was crushed over and over. But as we got older, my feelings shifted. I started wishing West would look at me the way he looked at Hannah. Didn’t take much work to figure out I was gay, and he was not. My first West-related heartbreak came with that realization at age fourteen. I would never have West. He’d never want to touch me or kiss me. He’d always chase after a Hannah — if not my sister, some other girl.
But I moved on. I wanted our friendship even more than I wanted a boyfriend. And I really thought I might be able to live with a future as West’s brother-in-law instead of his boyfriend — or as just a friend in the case that Hannah never realized what an amazing guy he was — but then the party happened.
Such a cliché, right? Booze and boys mixing in new and messy ways.
West sat in a dining room chair, slumped and manspreading to the extreme with his legs thrown wide. He held a Solo cup of Jack. He’d started on Jack and Coke but lost the soda at some point along the way. Five of us sat in a semicircle of chairs dragged into the living room in the house party we’d attended. I’d come along to keep an eye on West who’d bombed a test and had an air of self-destruction about him. I’d let him blow off steam but make sure he didn’t go off the deep end.
“I dare Kendra to…”
Yeah, it was one of those party games. I detest Truth or Dare, but I’ve never been able to say no to my best friend. He smirked at me from across the circle, as if he could read my mind. I rolled my eyes and took another gulf of my Jack and Coke. Lots of Coke. I was a lightweight, and I wouldn’t be much good to West barfing in the bathroom.
The Truths and Dares were getting increasingly more sexual in nature, as is typical when you throw a bunch of drunk, horny young adults together. West’s turn was up next, and if they asked him to describe his last sexual act, I was so out of here. Knowing my straight friend hooked up with girls and hearing the intimate details were two different things.
“I’ll take a dare,” West said.
Shit. If I had to watch him strip off his clothing… well, I might stay for that. But that was the liquor talking.
Kendra squealed and clapped her hands. “Ooh, I know. I dare you to kiss Adam! That would be so hot.”
There was a round of “ohhhh” as the game took a turn. I felt my face flame as my heart skipped a beat. “No, come on,” I said. “Let’s not go there.”
“It’s a dare,” Kendra said, shrugging her shoulders as if to say, nothing else I can do. The dare has been spoken.
West had only laughed in disbelief when she made the dare, and I was a little afraid to look at him. But when he stood up, I couldn’t resist. His eyes were bright, gleaming, maybe glazed? He was drunk. I was too.
“Well, this has been fun, but I think I’ve had enough for—”
I cut off as West crossed the circle in two long strides, braced his hands on the back of my chair, and leaned in over me. “It’s just a game, Adam. It’s cool.”
He smelled like… well, mostly whiskey, to be honest, but fuck if I cared. “If you’re sure…”
The group was starting to chant “kiss kiss kiss.”
West grinned. “I’m sure.”
Then his mouth was one mine, hot and wet and tasting of Jack Daniels. He still stood over me, and it was awkward, but something about his position over me was hot too. As the kiss ramped up, I grasped at him blindly, hands landing on his flanks, his hard, smooth body under my hands. There were catcalls and whistles, but West’s tongue was in my mouth and I was never going to be the same.
After the kiss, the game had continued, though I withdrew as soon as I could. I drank more, a lot more. Because West knew I was gay and had always been cool with it, but he’d never shown an ounce of curiosity. It was a game to him — West had never met a dare he didn’t charge headfirst into — but to me? It was tasting the forbidden fruit.
What happened after the kiss is pretty blurry, even for me. And West had probably consumed twice the amount of alcohol that I did, even with my increased pace toward the end of the night. Who knew what he remembered?
When we woke up the next morning, we’d both flailed awkwardly for familiar ground.
Wow, last night was crazy. Can’t even remember how I got back to the room.
Yeah, the whole night is a blur.
But I hadn’t forgotten every detail. I’d remembered the heat of West’s mouth, his tongue sliding along mine, his hand in my hair. I shivered every time I thought about it. He’d seemed so into the kiss. You can’t fake that kind of enthusiasm, can you?
I wish I knew for sure. Because then, I might be brave enough to fight for him. Because now that I’d tasted West? I wanted him all over again.
I wanted him to love me, not my sister.
Fuck my life.
West
I feel like crap warmed over.
I was supposed to be excited for this summer vacation, but as we loaded the car and headed south, something felt off about this year. Probably me.
My mom was back with her ex, who was a total bigoted douche, and I was not looking forward to being back in that dude’s orbit. I wanted to shake my mom, make her see what a creep she’d settled on, but she’d sounded happy, so I’d sucked it up.
At least I’d get to see Hannah. After a year away, she might actually see me as something more than her little brother’s friend. I should probably be more stoked about that, but after a year away, I liked to think I’d gained some perspective. Hannah and I had nothing in common. Also? I’d sort of made out with her little brother, and playing musical siblings was a little weird.
Adam said he didn’t remember what happened the night we got wasted and made out on a dare. That’s probably a good thing, because the whole thing freaked me out a little. I’d never really thought about dating a guy. Adam was my best friend, and Hannah was my hopeless crush, and that was just how things had always been. But now? They were a whole lot more mixed up in my head… and in my pants.
It was disturbing how many times I had jerked off to a fantasy involving Adam’s mouth. What was the big deal anyway? I’d kissed a few girls. Never had I obsessed over it afterward. Was it because it was Adam? Or because it was a guy? Or maybe all the alcohol in my system had made it way better than it really was, and … yeah. That was a cop-out. I don’t know. Something about Adam’s mouth had done it for me. There was no way around it.
I could still remember the look in his eyes. Before the kiss, it was a mix of intrigue and dismay. But when I pulled back just a fraction, his eyes had gone dark. They were glazed a little — pretty sure mine were too; we’d had a lot to drink — but there was no mistaking he liked the kiss. Especially when he put his hands on my side, pulling me toward him. His eyes had locked on mine, his lips parted and wet, and I’d dived back in without hesitation. His mouth had been warm, eager, and his tongue had sent a thrill through me as it met mine.
Finally, I’d thought.
Finally. I still didn’t know what to make of that thought. I remembered it clear as a bell, despite my inebriation. The word had resonated through my entire body. Finally, I was kissing Adam. But it wasn’t as if I’d considered kissing him before. I’d only ever been with girls.
“You’re quiet,” Adam said from the driver’s seat, breaking into my thoughts. We were long past that pivotal moment in a jampacked house party full of guys and girls hooting and laughing over the dare I’d undertaken.
I flushed guiltily, afraid that if I met Adam’s eyes he’d see right into my dirty thoughts. “Yeah, man, just thinking about the best way to woo Hannah.”
Adam looked back to the road, hands tightening on the steering wheel.
Damn. Why had I said that? It wasn’t even true.
“Maybe you should try a new approach,” Adam said lightly. “You might hurt yourself.”
I held up my middle finger, grinning and playing the part I knew so well after years of good-natured ribbing. “One time. I broke something one time.”
Adam laughed, his voice musical, and goosebumps rushed over the surface of my skin. Damn, but I loved that laugh. They’d been too infrequent lately. Ever since that party and its aftermath…
“Maybe I’ll take your advice,” I said casually. “I’ll stop trying to woo.”
Adam kept his eyes on the road and his voice neutral, but he was tense. My crush on Hannah was part of our childhood memories. We’d talked about her plenty of times over the years, but lately, I’d started getting the feeling Adam didn’t like it. Now, I didn’t like it much either. It felt weird after kissing Adam. Not only kissing Adam, but really freaking liking it. Like hello, full-blown bi-curiosity was in effect, because kissing Adam hadn’t been like any other kiss—it was drunk, sloppy, and wicked hot.
And… this was why my summer was going to be complicated.
I was fantasizing about my best friend, and I thought it might be mutual, but what if it wasn’t? I needed a way to test out the waters with Adam. I’d been fixed on Hannah so long I wasn’t sure Adam would even believe me if I said I wanted something else. Something being a guy. Wow. Besides that, what if Adam and I couldn’t make the transition from friendship to relationship? Maybe if you take us out of a dirty college dorm room and put us on a date, the chemistry just wouldn’t be there. Whiskey had been known to aid sparks in many a hookup, after all.
“What will you do instead?” Adam asked.
“Huh?” I had lost the thread of conversation. Realizing my eyes were fixed on Adam’s lap, I jerked them away. I knew what was behind that zipper, anyway. We’d changed in front of one another. When we were thirteen, we’d even measured our dicks to see who was bigger. Final verdict: Adam was longer, but I brought the girth to the party.
And now I was thinking about Adam’s dick. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“If you don’t woo Hannah, what will you do instead?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know.”
“You could ask her on a date,” Adam said. “She says yes or no, and you save time and embarrassment.”
“It’s probably what a normal guy would do,” I agreed, even though I was apathetic about it. Hannah wasn’t the one twisting me up in knots. But I couldn’t just tell Adam that. I was impulsive but leaping into man-on-man love wasn’t the same as taking a spur-of-the-moment road trip. I needed to do some field research. Was that a thing? Maybe I could get him drunk again and… No. Terrible idea.
“Since when have you ever been normal?” Adam smirked, the tilt of his lips sexy as hell. Why had I never noticed before that stupid party?
“I don’t know much about dating,” I admitted.
“True. Have you ever been on a date?”
“Not a real one, no.” An idea started to take shape. “Maybe…”
“What?”
I chanced a glance at Adam, our eyes meeting briefly as Adam looked away from the road. I felt it in my gut. This was the Miller family member I was supposed to be wooing. Time to nut up and go after the thing I wanted, even if it was kind of scary.
“Maybe you could help me out,” I said.
“Me? How?”
I shrugged a shoulder, tried to play it casual as I slouched in my seat. “Just… help me, like, practice dating.”
Adam’s forehead creased. “What, like go on pretend dates? You and me?”
“Yeah. Exactly,” I said, grinning. “You can tell me when I’m being an idiot. Hannah’s an older woman; I can’t come at her with some teenage boy crap. My game needs to be on-point.”
Using Hannah was dirty pool, maybe, but Adam would expect it. I wanted to find out if there was something to the emerging attraction I felt, but first and foremost, Adam and I were best friends. I didn’t want to start something I couldn’t finish, or to weird him out if he wasn’t as interested as I was. Faking a few dates would be the perfect way to see how we connected in a romantic setting.
“Uh, okay,” Adam said, sounding unenthused. “Want to be my Plus One to my parents’ anniversary party in two weeks? They’re holding it on Bliss Island.”
“Sure, I’ll be your date,” I said, emphasizing the word. “But I need to come up with my own dates, too.”
“How many of these dates are we talking?”
How many dates to figure out whether your best friend might want to be your boyfriend? And whether one kiss was a fluke or only the beginning of a bisexual discovery?
“How about five? Five fake dates.”
“Okay, then. Five fake dates,” Adam said. Flashing a smile my way, he added, “But they better be good. No McDonald’s bullshit.”
“You wound me,” I said. “My fake dates will be awesome.”
This idea was perfect. I applauded my genius. Seriously, I was brilliant. By the end of these dates, I would finally have the answers I needed, one way or another, to move on from the confused state that drunken kiss had thrown me into.
DJ Jamison writes romances about everyday life and extraordinary love featuring a variety of queer characters, from gay to bisexual to asexual. DJ grew up in the Midwest in a working-class family, and those influences can be found in her writing through characters coping with real-life problems: money troubles, workplace drama, family conflicts and, of course, falling in love. DJ spent more than a decade in the newspaper industry before chasing her first dream to write fiction. She spent a lifetime reading before that and continues to avidly devour her fellow authors’ books each night. She lives in Kansas with her husband, two sons, one snake, and a sadistic cat named Birdie.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)