Fake It 'Til You Break It(61)

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 Miranda’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.”