A hint of confusion lines her brows before she realizes what I’m saying – she is making it harder.
Literally, though.
She fights a grin, looking away, but I quickly pull her eyes back to mine.
We’re in class, people are all around, so every touch counts.
“You haven’t given me much,” I whisper, running my fingertip down her jawline. “Tell me.”
She licks her lips, her focus deepening before a light chuckle leaves her. “You’re really good at this,” she murmurs.
Now it’s me who laughs and I let my hand fall. “I’m just sayin’, I think I deserve it.”
“Oh, boo hoo,” she teases, shaking her head, but then she must think for a long moment because she gives in. “Sophomore year and don’t make fun. Not everyone is the same and needs it the way other people do.”
I heard nothing after sophomore year.
Two years ago.
She hasn’t fucked in two years.
“When did you lose your virginity?”
She tilts her head, giving me a bratty glare that says it all.
That was her first time.
“One person?”
She nods.
“Multiple times?”
“Oh my god, Nico. Stop.” She looks around.
There are eyes moving around the room, but nobody is sidled up beside us listening. Mr. Brando isn’t even in here; he left Josie in charge and walked out.
I tug her chair closer, laughing when she scowls as it scrapes loudly across the floor and more people glance our way.
She smacks my arms, but I grab her hand, and she rolls her eyes yanking it back.
We get back to working on our assignment, a few quiet minutes passing, and then she clears her throat, admitting in a whisper, “Twice.”
We turn toward each other, and a light blush creeps up her neck.
I know what she assumes I’m thinking, how she’s inexperienced, possibly incapable of pleasing a guy, or at the very least would have a lot to learn.
She’s wrong, so wrong.
She’s an empty playbook.
“It’s gonna hurt when you fuck again.”
The head of her pencil finds its way between her teeth. “What makes you say that?”
“Two times, two years ago, and likely with another first timer who doubtfully made you come, and probably didn’t thoroughly stretch you out, too afraid to hurt you. You’re basically a virgin.”
I expect her to blush harder, pull away and shut this down.
She doesn’t.
She leans in, tilting her head up to mine, her long, dark blonde hair falling over her shoulders, and smirks.
My eyes narrow.
“Oh, Nico,” she sing-songs, eyes gleaming. “You think you’re so sly, don’t you?”
“What are you talkin’ about, Pixie?”
“This sudden conversation, the real reason behind it. The extra, obviously noticeable, pep in my step today.” She doesn’t let me speak, but straightens her back, and slides off her seat. She comes to stand behind me, drapes her arms around my shoulders and places her lush lips covered in a shiny gloss today at my ear. “You think I’m not as human as you are? You asked when I last had sex. Let me ask you, when was the last time you came?” she whispers. “Could it have been maybe last night... like me?”
When my chest rumbles, her husky laugh fans across my cheek.
She decides to kill me even more with her next purred words.
“Yes, Nico. I was pent up. Yes, fake boyfriend, I had a sudden need to take care of myself last night for the first time in months. And yes, baby, it was all. Your. Fault.” She embellishes every word. “Now, your jeans are getting a little tight, so stay in that seat of yours... or show the class what little, born again virgin me does to big, bold, overworked you.”
She pats me on the shoulder and walks to the front of the room. She doesn’t ask Josie’s permission, but snags the bathroom pass from the wall and disappears out the door.
Fuck me if my starved stare doesn’t track her ass every step until she’s gone, but as my eyes slide back, it’s Alex’s they catch.
He keeps his face neutral while I can’t, and an instant glower takes over. Slowly, he pushes to stand.
The little bitch grabs the male pass and off he fucking goes.
In my peripheral, I catch Josie’s head snapping my way as I shoot to my feet, but as quick as I’m standing, the bitter and cold reality freezes me in place.
The asshole chasing her tail is the one she claims to want riding it.
She might want him on a normal day, but no matter the reason, last night she wanted me.
The thought knocks my ass back to the cheap wooden stool, but the next is the only thing keeping it planted.
I can work with that.
Holy shit! I just admitted to masturbating to the thought of my fake boyfriend to my fake boyfriend.
I drop my head against the bathroom mirror, shaking it a moment as a light laugh escapes.
I wash my hands and then give myself a minute to stand there and think, but it takes no kind of convincing.
Plain and simple?
I like Nico.
I’m attracted to Nico, and who the hell wouldn’t be?
He’s tall with strong shoulders and muscular arms, a small tattoo under his forearm adding a little mystery, not that it’s needed. His dark, dangerous eyes are enough to pull anyone in, and with sexy, perfectly messy hair to match, full lips and bright smile, he’s more than easy on the eyes and enticing to the body.
Only, he’s so much more than what you get at first glance.
I’m slowly starting to learn who he really is, and Nico Sykes is beyond what I knew him to be.
A few weeks ago, he was nothing but the guy to the left who loved to stare, glare, and then glanced away. The seemingly too cool for school guy who disappeared whenever I was near. Or at least, that’s how it felt.
Now, though, I know better than to assume who’s behind the mask he gives so many of us.
Nico is witty and daring. He’s athletic and determined, and the most surprising to me, as judgmental as it might make me seem, compassionate.
He’s supposed to be a stranger to me, yet he showed up as if he knew I hated the feeling I was left with every time my mother walks out the door, leaving me behind like I’m no longer important enough for her to care for.
Every day I discover something new about the guy, none of which I don’t like. That’s the scariest part.
Yes, he’s moody, but I can handle it, and honestly, I think he enjoys when I challenge his snappy attitude. Sometimes he shuts down completely and without warning, but so far, he’s always come out of his funk. It’s sort of part of his appeal, not knowing what you’re going to get, but being okay with it either way.
He’s exciting and unpredictable and temporarily mine.
What the hell am I supposed to do with all this?
And how the hell did things shift so quickly?
Nico didn’t agree to the idea of more, he agreed to pretend.
This is a problem because I no longer want to fake date Nico.
I sort of want to keep him.
Would he ever be open to the idea of keeping me?
As if the universe couldn’t allow me to wonder a little longer, I exit the bathroom to find Alex standing right outside, waiting.
I stutter step, offering a tight smile, and go to walk on by, but he reaches out to stop me.
“Hey, running off so fast?” He chuckles.
I give an anxious smile. “Sorry.”
It shouldn’t feel wrong simply standing here talking to the guy, yet it does in every way.
I’m so screwed.
“What’s the rush?” He grins.
“I’ve been gone a few minutes too long.” I give a light laugh.
“I think your ninety-eight percent in the class can afford you a few extra for bathroom breaks.”
“Ninety-nine, but who’s
counting,” I joke.
“Right.” He chuckles.
“I better go.” I edge away.
“Yeah, yeah. For sure.”
I give a small wave and head back, but he catches up to me before I round the corner.
“Demi, hang on a minute.”
I hesitate but then turn around. “What’s up?”
“I forgot to ask. I need a little help with the routine for homecoming.”
I straighten at the mention of my team. “Oh, right. You can ask—”
“You’re the main girl, right?” he cuts me off.
“I’m center, front line, basically, but we’re still a team.”
“You think you could help me out? After I get out of practice maybe?”
“Oh.” Shit.
Well, if this isn’t a clear ass sign I’ve officially switched teams.
“Sorry, but that’s not really a good idea,” I tell him, not missing the way his eyes tighten. “But hey, we haven’t started practicing with you guys yet. I’m sure you’ll be fine after this week.”
“Well, your coach, who is really young by the way.” He feels the need to add for some reason. “She mentioned we should practice now.”
“If you really want to, Alex, I’m sure Katy would be happy to help you,” I mention his partner.
“Yeah, but I don’t have her number.” He reaches out to grab my hand. “Help me out?”
I stare at him a minute and the gorgeous green of his eyes I used to daydream about only weeks ago. Suddenly they look more like seaweed than shiny emeralds.
I gently pull my hand from his.
His eyes harden the slightest bit.
“Sorry, I can’t, but I’ll text Katy and ask her to find you.”
I leave him standing in the hall with a staggered expression.
I walk around the corner, skidding to a stop when Nico is leaning there, his hands in his pockets, head tilted down, glare focused on the linoleum beneath his feet.
Slowly, and only with his eyes, he glances up, gauging me.
My stomach warms, and I feel the tension surrounding him, but the longer he stares, the more his features smooth. Still, he doesn’t give me much.
Sliding his shoulder against the wall, he moves closer until I’m only a foot’s space away. His hand slips into my hair, his focus now on my lips.
I keep my arms locked at my sides, my toes curling in my flats, fingers digging into my skirt as he leans in.
Waiting.
But he doesn’t kiss me.
As soon as the disappointment stirs in my gut, the warmth of his lips press down against the throbbing pulse of my neck, creating a deeper kind of heat, and my eyes close.
He has to feel it, right?
The way it kicked up the second his hands landed on me, only to grow faster and faster with every breath I took.
My control begins to break, and I’m about to yank him to me, when his mouth finally lands on mine.
I open for him and he shifts closer, his hand digging into my hair with a gentle tug.
My arms wrap around his neck, tugging him in and his chest vibrates against mine causing my nipples to harden behind my bra.
“Damn, D,” he rasps, his mouth pressing back to mine a second later.
He shifts, nudging my back into the small cut out of the wall when the squeak of footsteps across freshly polished floors passes.
Nico’s mouth falls from mine in the same second, his breathing out of control.
He eyes me a moment, then cuts a quick stare over his shoulder, at the back of Alex’s retreating body.
The reason for the show.
The warmth of Nico’s body disappears, but he grips my hand and pulls me back to class, leaving a small piece of me in that empty hallway without even realizing it.
I don’t talk much the rest of the period, a question spinning in my mind the entire time.
What happens when this show’s over?
Miranda takes a drink from her water bottle, setting it on the floor before she claps to get our attention. “Okay, that was halfway decent, but I do need to make some changes. A few of the pairings just... aren’t working,” she announces, her eyes instantly meeting mine. “Demi, partner with Mr. Rodriguez.”
I look to Trent who is focused on Nico.
“Gina, you’re dismissed,” she tells the JV girl she had dancing with Trent. “I’ll let you know what I need from you later.”
Nico’s chest presses against my back in defiance, and I glance at him over my shoulder.
But wait...
I look to Miranda. “I’ll be teaching Nico and Trent then?”
“I’ll make sure Nico is taken care of.” I don’t like the way she smiles as she says it. “And I’ll assign him a new partner after I make a decision.”
“I can teach him what he needs to know.”
Several heads swivel our direction at my instant and accidentally argumentative tone.
Miranda’s eyes narrow. “Fall in line, Demi. Ten seconds to start.”
I pick up my towel and water, ready to walk off, but Nico jerks me back with a scowl.
“What are you doing?” he snaps.
“What she told me to.”
He glares, his eyes focused over my shoulder and narrowing. “Tell her no,” he says almost too low to be heard.
“She’s the coach in this room, Nico. Would you tell yours no on the field?”
“Now, Mr. Sykes,” Miranda says with a hint of a threat.
His jaw tics, a harsh breath escaping through his nose.
He’s pissed, and he doesn’t bother hiding it as he glances at me, only to jerk right past me. Slowly, he makes his way toward her.
Trent ends up at my side, so I set my items back down and we work in the spot I started.
He scratches the back of his neck, glancing around. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” I tell him, spinning around and getting into position, my back to his front.
“We’ll run through it once more as a group,” Miranda shouts. “Then work independently with your partner to make sure they’re doing as expected, perfect what you can, ladies. We only get them for twenty minutes at a time.”
Just as she says, we go one more round, cutting after the sliding walk – we don’t show them a single step from our actual routine that will follow.
Trent is a quick learner so we’re basically chatting as we repeat the steps in slow counts to keep going like we’re busy. It’s not as if the boys have a whole lot to do other than hold on and follow our movements. They aren’t dancing with us, it’s just a presentation welcoming them onto the field, and then it’s our routine.
As much as I try not to, I repeatedly glance toward the end of the gym, where Miranda and Nico practice independently.
I can’t look away as she starts from step one again, foolish frustration flaring when Miranda drops in front of him.
His eyes following her form as she slowly lifts has me looking away.
“Your coach is a trip.”
A laugh leaves me and my eyes widen mockingly. “Yeah. I like to joke she’s a stripper at night and sometimes lets it show in here for fun.”
“She probably is.” He laughs. “No way she can afford to live how she does on a coach’s salary.”
“Trust me, she’s making money.” I look to him. “She dances for Jay Productions.”
“The record label?”
I nod. “Yep, she’s their top dancer. Featured in over a dozen videos this year alone.”
“Damn.” He nods, impressed.
I squint their way, finding Miranda smiling and pushing on Nico’s chest. “Yep.”
“Are you jealous?”
My head snaps toward him. “What’s with the tone of surprise lately, Trent?”
“Shit,” flies from him, but he recovers quickly, his expression smoothing out. “I meant seeing another chick on your man like that. Does that make you jealous?”
I look back to the two, tracking Miran
da’s hands as she reaches behind her to grip Nico’s, and places them a little too high on her middle.
I swallow and turn back to Trent.
“No,” I lie. “Chemistry, sexuality, it’s all a part of what we do as dancers. People have to believe what they’re seeing. It’s our job to make sure they do.”
If he doesn’t believe me, he doesn’t say so, instead going with, “Not sure I could handle it if Krista was doing this instead of cheer.”
“Yeah,” I frown. “I imagine it can be a lot.”
Like right now, for example.
“Demi...” Trent trails off, gaining my attention.
“What?”
He eyes me a moment, before shaking his head. “Nah, nothing. Let’s keep going.”
So, we do.
The rest of the day I’m stuck with a headache I can’t get rid of and end up going straight home to sleep it off, not waking up until my alarm rings for school the next morning.
The second I walk into dance class, I’m tempted to walk right back out.
Miranda and Nico are the only two in the gym, both tucked in the back corner, only half the lights turned on for some stupid reason and providing them with too much privacy for my liking.
I stand there, frozen, watching as she drops in front of him, then rolls her way back up his body. When she spins, walking out with his hand in hers, the last move that involves the boys, I begin to step the rest of the way through the doors, but the music continues to play, and Miranda keeps fucking dancing.
She twists her knees left, her elbows locked and shifted right, then as she jumps up, her stance widening as she tugs her jacket open, revealing her sports bra beneath it – the move I choreographed to go with the lettermen’s jackets we’ll be wearing at the beginning of our performance.
I look to Nico, who while his eyes are pointed in her direction, wears a deep frown.
Slowly, his feet move toward her, and just as slowly she walks into him. Her hands slide across his chest, as his move down her ribs, gripping her hips so he can tug her forward.
That’s not part of their entrance.
“Damn,” is whispered in my ear, and my head jerks over my shoulder to find Alex. He’s watching them. “Guess you weren’t the only one asked for a private lesson.”
I look back to the two.
Fake It 'Til You Break It Page 18
