I’m only three feet from her when she tips her head like a petty little bitch.
“Gotta say, didn’t expect this.”
“I’ll bet.”
She pops a hip out, crossing her arms. “I’m not letting you back on my team, so if you came here to grovel, don’t waste my time.”
“Unless you want the school board to know you’re sleeping with students, don’t waste mine.” I step closer to her.
Her eyes widen then sharpen in the same second. “You—”
“Save it. I’m the best you’ve got, Miranda. I’m taking my spot back.”
Her lips thin and she lets her arms fall to her sides. “Nico’s gone. Hasn’t been back since you made a scene. You dance, you’re dancing with Alex.”
I laugh lightly. “Funny, you think you’re still in control.” I set my bag down, pulling my hoodie over my head. “I need this on my college applications, and you want to stay out of jail, so you can keep shaking your ass for rappers.”
“Watch it, little girl.”
I roll my eyes, adjusting the top of my gym pants. “Let’s not pretend we like each other, but be professional and get the job done well.”
I walk past her, slipping right back into the center.
Trent eyes me, both of us aware we can’t dance together.
Thompson suddenly slides in behind me, whispering in my ear, “I got you, girl. Let’s get it.”
I give him a grateful smile, then face forward and wait.
It takes Miranda a second, but slowly she spins around and walks back to the speaker. She gives a tight clap, avoiding my eyes.
“From the top.”
I can hardly hold in my smirk.
I ditched, figured I’d be cool when game time came, focused enough on playin’ hard that my mind wouldn’t fuck with me, but the second I pull in, I realize how wrong I was.
It’s formal, the night where, every year, the school recognizes the seniors on varsity, and of fucking course this year we’re to be escorted by the dance team.
I’m not walking. I don’t give a fuck, I’ll wait on the sidelines with the few juniors on the team.
Not that it matters, I heard Demi never went back, like she said she wouldn’t, which only proves further what a dick I am. I came in and fucked up her little world.
Dance was one of the only things she did for herself and now she can’t even look at her coach.
I climb from my truck and grab my bag from the back, slinging it over my shoulder.
At least I won’t have to stand there and watch her with anyone else.
The moment I think it, I’m reminded of how nothing in my life ever plays out the way I want it to.
I step between the buildings in time to spot the dance team, all wrapped in their silk coverings to hide their costumes, and the football team gathered together as the guys start handing over their jackets.
My feet lock in place when Trent moves toward Demi, who gives him nothing but a tight smile and nod as she walks off.
Something has Trent’s head turning this way, and he spots me.
He tips his chin, so I tip mine back, but decide to cut left, going the long way around to avoid everyone.
I’m dressed out and ready to go before the rest of the guys even filter into the locker room.
I tap on Coach’s door, sticking my head in. “I’m feelin’ tight, cool if I head out there early, start warming up?”
He eyes me, not believing a word I’ve said. He might not speak much when it’s not football related, but he pays attention. “We’re walking with the girls, Sykes.”
“Can’t, Coach.” I don’t say anything else, but after a few seconds, he nods his permission, so I avoid eye contact with everyone I pass and head straight to the field.
I don’t warm up, but join the JV team on the sideline, watching along as their game comes to an end.
I glance back, finding the stands filling up more and more by the minute, everyone eager to see the show.
Macy catches my eye, Carley and Krista right beside her, already in their cheer gear for when we begin, but I swiftly look away.
Quicker than I’m ready for the game is over, the field cleared, and the announcer comes back on the speaker.
The crowd settles, all to pep back up and louder than before when the guys emerge from the inflatable tunnel and keep forward across the field. In one, solid, straight line, they stand, dressed and ready to play. The only thing they’re missing are their helmets.
The crowd dies down, and again grows louder as the girls file out, completely in sync with the speed of each step and the space between them all, the letterman’s jackets draped over their left arms, game socks up to their knees and little referee outfits to match.
Demi is in the middle, no jacket across her forearm but her fists on her hips, Thompson right behind her.
I reach up, gripping my gear below my neck, moving from one foot to the next to keep myself calm.
The music starts, but it’s a simple hit of a drum, and the girls take one step forward. Another, and they take one step out.
Everyone starts to cheer as our coaching staff slips through the middle and make their way over, the announcer introducing them over the loudspeaker.
Another boom from a drum and the girls turn sideways, each guy strategically removing the jackets and holding them out for the girls to slide into.
But Thompson suddenly drops back, falling into the line of my teammates as Trent steps out and forward.
Toward Demi, his jacket in his own hand.
I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth as he holds it out for her, and her hands slip into the sleeves.
Is he for real?
Is she for fucking real?
I squint when Trent emerges from behind her, quickly jogging this way.
“What the hell is he doing?” is hissed, and my head snaps to my left to find Miranda on her knees a few feet away, tripod perched in front of her with a video camera attached.
I look forward right as Trent reaches the sidelines, slipping directly beside me with a smirk in place.
I glare, but my eyes snap toward the field when the music kicks on, and the girls fall in line.
I try to tip my head to the side to see who is behind Demi but can’t see.
Trent chuckles and I cut a quick scowl at him before focusing back on the field.
The crowd goes crazy as the girls and their partners begin to go through the shit we’d been practicing, but my eyes stay stuck to D as she makes the same moves, a little more pronounced and all on her own. No partner.
They get to where the girls spin out, holding onto the guy’s hand, but Demi doesn’t spin. She keeps her legs planted out, her ass facing this way, but she twists her hips looking over her shoulder, right at me.
The team is trained not to move forward until she does.
So they wait.
For what?
“You even paying attention, man?” Trent whispers. “Look at her.”
Pressure falls on my chest as I force my eyes to the last name stitched across the jacket.
My stomach jumps, twisting and turning all at once.
Sykes.
My gaze flies to hers.
Baby...
“She’s waitin’, Nic.”
I look to him.
“Go.”
My feet carry me to her.
The second number 24’s feet hit the turf, the crowd flips out.
When Carley, Krista, and Macy’s screams are heard above them all, I chuckle through the tears that are forming, but I’m too afraid to take my eyes off Nico to glance around.
I keep my position, my head turned, and Nico, being Nico, slides up behind me, his eyes locked on mine and far more intense than ever before.
My body aches to lean into his, but there’s no time for anything other than what we’re out here for right now, so I slide my hand into his rough one, spinning into him.
His lips press into a firm line, a sudden hopeless
ness filling his dark eyes, the second my body presses against his, and all I want to do is wash it away.
I will soon.
“Walk me to my spot?” I whisper.
“Where?” he rasps.
“Center.”
He steps out and around like he would have in the performance.
We take two strides forward, everyone else sliding with us but staying a space back and the announcer begins to run off the team numbers, giving their starts and ambitions, each one releasing their partner’s hand as their name is read and stalking across the field. Nico is the last on the field, and completely reluctant to let me go and walk away, but slowly he does.
The last name mentioned is Trent’s, who turns to wave up at the stands then falls back in line with the younger players on the sidelines.
Now it’s our turn.
Miranda cues the music.
We run through our routine, and my eyes stay locked on Nico’s the entire time, I fight a smirk when the end rolls around and we let the jackets slide from our shoulders, showing the numbers that were positioned inside the jackets to Velcro over the backs of our shirts, each representing our partners. A large 24 now plastered across mine.
Just as quick as it’s over, we’re hustled off the field as the captains take it for the coin toss. The whistle is blown, and the first quarter begins, Nico and the rest of the starters getting into position.
Miranda wastes no time, charging right up to me before I’ve even caught my breath. “You little bitch. Who do you think you are?” she growls.
I chuckle, taking the towel and water Carley brings me. I dab at my face, then take a small drink before giving her any of my attention. “What are you worried about? It all looked like part of the plan. Star player gets a little extra, hypes the crowd more. Nobody knows it was a last-minute change.”
“You don’t get to change my routines.”
“I created more than half of that routine while you were off trying to fuck your way into all the guys’ good graces.”
Miranda’s eyes widen and she looks to Carley then back to me.
“I changed my mind,” I tell her. “Quit, Miranda. If you don’t, well... you know what’ll follow.”
I head for the locker room to shower and wipe the glitter off my face and arms, and change into my formal attire, but I don’t go back to the game.
He’ll find me.
The second the buzzer indicating the end of the fourth quarter sounds, I tear off my helmet, my eyes flying to where I knew the girls to be sitting.
She’s still not here.
Macy lifts a shoulder, looking from them to me, and it hits.
I drop my helmet and take off.
There’re a few teachers in the hall, but I jog right past them, ignoring their shouts of protest.
When I get to that last step though, my feet freeze, my gut twisting.
I take a deep breath, letting my cheeks expand with my controlled exhale and gently push through the door to the rooftop, hanging onto it as it begins to close, erasing any sort of sound I might create.
I don’t know why.
I step around the corner and there she is, standing in a long, deep blue gown, my letterman’s jacket hanging from her hands.
Her hair is curled and down now, hanging loose over her shoulders, eyes lined in black making the green appear brighter, lips a slick, creamy color.
She’s perfection.
My perfection?
“I should have told you,” she says instantly.
I shake my head, approaching her slowly. “We talked about this—”
She holds a hand out, cutting me off. “No, I mean, yes, I’m sorry about that too, but that’s not what I mean. We can fight more about that later if you want,” she says quietly and damn if my chest doesn’t ache, my lips twitching.
She gives a sad smile. “I should have told you where my mind was as soon as I figured it out for myself.”
I reach her, and she places a hand on my chest, looking up at me. “Why are you standing here apologizing to me when I’m the one who fucked this up?” My hands slide into her silky hair and she closes her eyes a long moment. “You have no idea how much I hate myself for putting doubt in your mind. All I ever wanted was to hold you, baby, and to know you wouldn’t force me to let go, but I allowed you to believe you were worth less than other things in my life, when that’s so fucking false, D. You’re worth more than anything I’ve got.”
I slide my palm across her cheek and she leans into my touch. “Tell me I’ve still got you,” I whisper, dropping my forehead to hers.
“You do.” She swallows. “Neek... you have no idea.”
“Say it, baby. Nice and clear for me. Tell me.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “I love you.”
I swallow her words with my lips, and she sighs against my mouth, pulling on my jersey as she tries to get closer. I kiss her, slow and soft for as long as I can until she needs a full breath of air and pulls her lips from mine, all to come back in for another short kiss.
“I want you,” she whispers.
I grip her hair. “I’m all sweaty, baby, and you’re in your dress already.”
“I don’t care.”
I chuckle and step back, bending to grab my jacket off the floor. I hold her gaze, opening it for her and she spins, slipping her hands in but keeps her eyes on me over her shoulder.
I lean in, kissing her once more, then grab her hand and pull her over to the chairs. She drops into the one beside me.
“Me and Alex used to be friends.”
“We don’t have to do this,” she whispers. “Not right now.”
“Yeah, I do. I fucked up not being honest with you. Let me break some of this down, and you can ask me anything you want about it later.”
She nods.
“So, we were friends and a couple weeks before freshman year we went to this party. Alex wasn’t supposed to go, he was grounded or something, but he snuck out anyway. His dad showed up to get him, piss drunk and acting like a fucking dickhead. Alex flew from his seat and was rushing to leave, but his dad decided he was moving too slow, grabbed him by the neck and tossed him out the front door. Alex fell and hit his head on a rock, knocked out cold.”
“Oh my god.” She frowns.
I nod. “His dad just fuckin’ left him there, didn’t even notice or care, I’m not sure. He took off. It took a little less than a minute for Alex to open his eyes, and when he did, he was fucked up, dizzy and said he saw spots in his vision. I helped him up and drove him to the ER myself. I didn’t even have a license, but he had a car, so we took it.” I shrug, a heavy exhale leaving me. “When the nurse asked what happened, I told her. Didn’t think too much of it right then.”
Her eyes soften. “They put it down as child abuse.”
I nod.
“You did what was right.”
A low scoff leaves me. “His dad was arrested the next day. He lost his job, lost his pension.” I meet her gaze. “Lost his wife next.”
Her eyes tighten as she tries to piece it all together.
“Couple weeks went by, and then she came over to thank the father of the son who was brave enough to help hers.” I scoff. “My mom wasn’t home when she stopped by, she was in the city, where he was supposed to meet her the next morning.” Anger forms in the pit of my stomach, but I push it down. “Dr. Avery Hammons made herself quite comfortable that night, and when she finally left, Alex already had her convinced to take my dad with her.”
“He took from you,” she breathes.
“Yep. His mom couldn’t get back with his dad after word got out what he did, not if she wanted to keep her practice open and successful. Alex’s dad lost everything, he felt he lost everything, so he made it his mission to make sure I did, too.”
“Your dad walked away, just like that?”
“My dad never appreciated my mom to begin with. The fact that I was never good enough for him made it easier to leave me behind, too. He had an hei
ress for a wife and gained a doctor. Had a son who started on his team but ‘only’ held a 3.0, gained one who started and was top of the class.”
“Second in class,” she whispers.
I chuckle lightly, looking to her. “Yeah, second to my Pixie. That was just another reminder he’s better for you.”
She frowns, stands up and walks over to me.
I spread my legs for her to step between, but she straddles me instead, leaning her elbows on my shoulder pads.
“I don’t need another version of me,” she says, running her thumb across my bottom lip.
“You deserve someone worth as much as you,” I rasp.
“I deserve someone who will love me hard, want me despite my mistakes, and appreciates who I am because of them.”
I swallow, and her legs sink farther beside me. “I can do that, D.”
“I know,” she whispers, kissing me lightly. “Your worth isn’t measured in your accomplishments, Nico, even though you have many to be proud of. It’s how hard you love that counts.”
I pull her mouth to mine, kissing her roughly and she moans against me.
She can feel it, my love for her.
“My silent knight,” she breathes across my mouth before sinking into me more.
But I’m a greedy bastard. I want words.
I pull back, looking up at her as she smiles gently at me.
“Mr. Brando said it was about misconception, right?” I start.
She laughs, nodding as I run my hands up her thighs and under the jacket until I’m gripping her hips.
“Tell me, D. What do you see when you look at me now?”
Her palms find my cheeks and she holds my eyes with hers.
“I see a guarded, suffer in silence type who is more than the first glance could ever give. A stubborn, hardheaded guy I want to keep,” she whispers, a calm, almost sadness taking over her eyes. “Even more, I see the guy I accidentally fell in love with and wouldn’t change if I could. A gorgeous, strong-minded guy I want to love me back.”
My pulse is beating out of control, my heartstrings pulled tight as I stare at the girl I never thought would say half the shit she just did while staring right at me. Right fuckin’ into me.
My Pixie.
I pull her closer, tilting my head to whisper in her ear. “I do, Pixie. I have, and I will.”
Fake It 'Til You Break It Page 30
