Fake It 'Til You Break It(14)

I’m only two feet from him, so when he stops abruptly, whipping around to face me, my body slams into his.

I yelp slightly on impact and he catches me around the waist so we don’t fall, both of us laughing. I look up to catch him in the act, but slowly his amusement dies, causing mine to follow.

I clear my throat and step back the second he removes his hand.

I glance to the side where Mr. Brando stands at the edge of the bleachers, binder in hand.

He tips his chin, a small smile in place, and then he switches his attention to a few of the other students around, so I turn back to Nico.

Nico who has an icy stare locked in the direction mine just came from.

When he finally brings his eyes back, he does so taking several steps away, and Alex is suddenly standing beside me.

He hands over my notebook. “Thanks again for the help studying,” he says.

I laugh, scrunching my nose. “They’re only copies, you’ll have to put the time in.”

A tight laugh leaves him. “Right, yeah.”

I offer a small smile and move back to my spot on the turf, Nico sitting once again as well.

“Should we go over some questions, maybe?” I ask Nico, setting my notebook in my lap.

His eyes pointedly fall to the matte black cover only to snap right back to mine.

He goes straight back to silent mode.

And just like that, Nico’s done being semi-friendly for the day.

Awesome.

The class ends not too long later, and lunch follows, the pep rally in the gym right after, so I meet Carley at the door and we file in together.

We’re playing a rare Thursday game tonight, but it’s still game night, and with our team having had a bye last week, we’re all jonesing for some football.

I’m in need of some fun after the taxing week I’ve had.

Of course, as soon as I think it, the cause of my headache struts in, a large number 24 etched across his chest in big, bold, blue letters.

He’s not even the captain, Trent is as quarterback, yet, there Nico is, leading the team down the bench line, and dropping his ass in the space directly in front of me.

Yay freaking me.





She couldn’t hold in her eye roll if she tried – she’d never try, it’s always been her go-to form of sass.

Not my fault she chooses the second row knowing the team sits in the first. It’s the same shit every week, been this way all four years.

The difference though, she’d let me ignore her before, never sought out eye contact.

Now? I swear to god the girl takes pleasure in fucking with my head, demanding my attention without a word, causing me to be more measured and sharper with her.

She’s testing my patience, and the funniest shit... I’m not sure she has a clue.

Like right now, she’s pulled her phone out to record her friends who just took the floor to do their little cheer thing, and she’s leaning forward slightly to do it, making her naked knees push into my back.

I’m tempted to catch her off guard, mess with her by leaning against them. It’s what she gets for not paying attention, but as soon as I think it, she shifts away, knocking Trent in the arm with them instead.

“She’s killin’ it!” Demi whispers in a laugh.

He chuckles but keeps his focus on his girl.

A scoff leaves me, and he cuts a glance my way, his smirk deepening.

Dick.

Josie tries to get my attention during the routine, but I purposely avoid her side of the room, and just like that, they’re done and running off the floor.

Demi’s legs find their way forward again, so fuck it, I push against them, and she tenses.

I drop my head back, so it’s damn near planted in her lap and those green eyes widen, her hands lifted and frozen a few inches out.

Her long hair brushes across my cheek so I reach up and move it, and her lips clamp tight.

“You keep kneeing me and I’m gonna do one of two things. One being lifting you up and putting you beside me so you can’t anymore, or two, plant your ass in my lap, which will either embarrass or entice you. Your call, Davenport.” My eyes move between hers a moment, but the girl is slow to catch on.

Finally, she jumps, swiftly swinging her body away to the point I almost fall over and have to catch myself.

Both Trent and Carley laugh, while Demi simply stares.

“Sorry,” she whispers after a second, and then pretends to be focused on Coach, who gives his speech into the microphone.

Slowly, I turn back, hiding my smirk as Trent swallows his laughter.

In the same second, an uglier different shade of blond catches my eye from the opposite end of the bench.

Alex studies me and my muscles lock, but I make sure he’s the first to break contact.

Always fucking watching so he can decide what moves he wants to mirror.

Little punk.

I don’t speak the rest of the pep rally, and after it I plug in my earbuds and ignore the world until it’s time to meet in the locker room to dress for tonight’s game.

My peace is short-lived when we start getting into gear and Alex calls me out, like a brave little fucker.

“So what’s up, Nico, you and Josie on or off this week?”

“Here we fuckin’ go.” Our boy Thompson shakes his head, dropping on the bench beside me to tie his cleats.

“You mean you don’t know, Hammons?” I don’t bother looking at him, but keep tying my game pants. “Thought you rode my jock harder than that.”