Fake Out

Maddox

The reason I rarely go home is three simple words: I'm a liar.

When the pressure to marry my childhood sweetheart became too much, I told her I was gay and then fled to New York like my ass was on fire.

Now, five years later and after a drunken encounter, I find myself invited to her wedding. And I have to bring my boyfriend-the boyfriend who doesn't exist because I'm straight.

At least, I think I am. Meeting the guy I'm bribing to be my boyfriend for the weekend makes me question everyt...