Fake It 'Til You Break It(32)

“Thank you, Mary! We’re coming!” Krista calls back and all the groups make their way over, but I hold Demi back by her waist.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Waiting.”

She shifts, so I loosen my grip, and she spins in my arms to face me. She surveys me a moment before a small laugh leaves her. “Waiting so you can stand here and stare at me?”

“No. Waiting so everyone sits and notices it’s just us left standing.”

“Why?”

“Why you ask so many questions?”

Her little nose scrunches. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Don’t ask things you already know the answer to.” I shrug. “Why would couples stand off to the side or walk away from groups and shit like that?”

She purses her lips, giving a sassy, “Privacy.”

“Exactly.” I shift her more, so they can’t see my face. “Right now, at least half of them are staring right at us, each one thinking something along the lines of how bad you must need me, or how hard I must be for you, if we have to take a few extra minutes to ourselves before we can even consider sitting through a dinner with the rest of them.”

She attempts to glance over her shoulder, so I shoot my hand up, catching her chin before she can, my fingers spreading along her jaw and neck in the same move.

Damn, she doesn’t even flinch.

I continue. “The girls are wondering what filthy things I’m promising to do to you later when you come to my room, you are coming to my room by the way.” Her eyes narrow, but it’s playful as hell. “The guys are wondering if you’re biting into your bottom lip, if your eyes are growing darker, and wishing they knew what that looked like, knowing they’ll never get the chance now that you’re mine.”

“Wow,” she teases, purposefully breathy. “You really think you’ve got this whole prepped and ready thing down.”

A laugh escapes me before I can squash it, and I tug her a little closer.

She stares a long moment. “So, I’m challenged with convincing everyone your mood swings turn me on?”

“And I get to be the possessive boyfriend who doesn’t want you outta arm’s reach.”

“Get to?” She smashes her lips to the side, tryin’ real hard not to let her grin slip.

“Get. To. D.”

“What makes you think possessive is what I’d like?”

A light chuckle leaves me, and I lick my lips, leaning into her as I slowly slide my arms down. When she doesn’t budge, my palms slip a little lower, now resting just below her waist, my pinkies propped on her ass cheeks.

She inhales, waiting.

“Demi,” I whisper. “I’ll tell you right now, the last thing you want is a pussy ass dude who won’t push you. You’re too smart, too independent for a doormat of a guy, and too strong to ever be one yourself. You’ll take charge... but you’ll like it more when I do.”

Her ass tightens against my hand and instantly my brows snap together.

Hold on...

I skim my hand across her waist, gripping her hips and squeezing until she lets out a small yelp. She falls against me, and my mouth plants right at her ear.

“Rule number one, Little D.” Her breath fans across my chest. “Don’t ever go panty-less again... unless there’s a real good reason for it.” I pull back, locking my eyes to hers. “A reason that includes me.”

She studies me a minute before her head tips down and a light laugh leaves her. “This is going to be interesting, isn’t it?” She looks up again, humor written across her face – hidden heat behind her eyes.

“Fun.” I shrug. Letting my arms fall. “It’ll be fun.”

“Will you always be so... extra?”

“Yes. And you’ll still want more.”

“Uh-huh.” She laughs. “We’ll see, now let’s go eat before it gets cold.” She gets a few feet away, and then adds in a mischievous undertone, “And before the wind starts. Wouldn’t want my boyfriend to get mad when it gives away my lack of underwear.”

I dart for her, but she evades, smiling wider.

She skips back to the table, proud of her little teasing, and drops in the middle of Carley and Macy.

I take my seat at the end by Trent, lifting my chin when she looks my way.

She brings her straw to her lips, grinning like a brat.

With a shake of my head, I reach for a fresh beer bottle from the iced beer tub in the center of the table and pop one open.

“Damn, Nic,” Trent says under his breath.

I glance his way, my eyes narrowing when he cuts a quick glance toward the girls, only to bring them right back.

“What?”

A scoffing laugh escapes from him and he shakes his head. “Nothing, man.”

I drop my arms from the table so my plate can be lowered in front of me, thanking the server as she moves along.

I get it, he’s unsure about what I’m doing, but so the fuck am I.

Still doing it.

I grip his shoulder, giving him a little shake. “Let me worry about what needs worrying, Trent.”

He lifts his hands as if to say do your thing.

I plan to.





The boardwalk is pretty fucking crowded, as expected on a three-day weekend, but for the most part, everyone who came for Krista’s birthday is sticking together.