Fake It 'Til You Break It(67)

I am such a fucking fool.

It takes Nico a second to realize I’ve locked up on him, his head lifting as he does.

I refuse to meet his treacherous gaze, not when I know my unrestrained desire is written across my face while all he was doing was driving a point home.

I drop my legs from around him, and he doesn’t relent right away, but finally releases me, allowing me to fall back to my feet.

I try my hardest not to touch a single inch of him as I squeeze away, quickly moving for the sound system to turn it off.

My shaky hand misses the button twice, and I take a deep breath, steadying myself a moment before trying again.

God, I’m an idiot!

“Demi.” His voice strained as he attempts to catch his breath.

I don’t reply, hastily slipping into my track pants.

“Should I be apologizing right now?” he edges. “‘Cause I don’t fuckin’ want to.”

“No.” My response comes out quick and raspier than I had expected, so I clear my throat and try again. “No, it’s fine. Everything is fine.”

I slip my shoes on, then tug my sweater over my head, pulling my hair out.

It takes all my will, but I manage a forced blank stare and turn to him.

Nico’s face is drawn up tight, his chest rising and falling in quick spurts as he studies my every move.

“You did what I asked.” My shrug is rigid.

Why the hell did I ask him to make me want it first?

Nico’s head jerks back.

“I wouldn’t worry about having to do that again.”

“Having to do that again,” he drawls slowly.

“He, uh.” I look away. “Caught the entire show, so I’d say we’re good for a while.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Nico shouts.

“Look, I’m going to Carley’s tonight, we’re going out of town in the morning to visit her grandparents,” I lie, moving for the door. “So I’ll just... see you Monday.”

Or never, that would be awesome.

I go to walk away, but he calls me out.

“You’re lying,” he accuses flatly.

I tense, turning around. “Excuse me?”

“Carley, like the rest of us, has been trying to call you all day. When she couldn’t get ahold of you, she asked me to let you know she was leaving right after the game, going with Krista and Trent to go get his brother from the airport.”

Shit.

He tips his head back slightly. “Why you lying, D? Got plans you don’t wanna share?” He glares.

Oh, fuck him.

“I was trying to be nice,” I shout, taking him off guard, but only the subtle lift of his brows would tell you so. “But, fine, since it seems we’re going all out, how about because I don’t want to see you tonight, or for the rest of the shitty fucking weekend for that matter.”

“Why the fuck not?” He takes a step toward me, and this time unexpected turmoil stares back. “What the hell just happened here, D?”

My anger is kicking higher the longer I stand here, and the hinted hurt in his eyes only confuses and pisses me off more. “I’m not really yours, Nico, so stop acting entitled to things you aren’t. If I don’t want to tell you something, I don’t have to, so go ahead, feel free to lie to me all you want, too, because I don’t really give a shit.”

He eyes me a moment, licking his lips as he nods. “Right. Fake it ‘til you make it, huh, D?”

“Learned from the master, huh, Neek?” I mock him. Moisture fights its way into my eyes, so I end the conversation with, “Awesome acting.”

That felt pretty fucking real to me.

I walk out, afraid I left a part of me behind and unsure of how the hell to get it back.

I thought he kissed me for us.

I thought wrong.



What. The. Fuck.

Awesome acting?

What the hell just happened?

I kissed her, a real fuckin’ kiss, like I’d been waiting to do for a long ass time. Shit, I’ve been fighting against myself since the second she agreed to this stupid ass lie, since I let my hands touch her that night in the hotel hallway.

There’ve been several times when we were alone, so there was no hiding what it would be like, when I was sure she wanted it, wanted me, but I waited. Until I couldn’t anymore.

I knew she’d like it, knew she’d respond to my every move with one of her own.

I fuckin’ knew we’d fit.

She pushed back harder than I did. Sought out what she needed more than I allowed myself to. Then boom, a bucket of fucking ice dropped, and she flipped her switch, walked out like nothing happened.

She’s not mine, she said.

Ain’t that some bullshit?

I have no fucking clue what she’s truly been thinking the last few weeks. All I know is what’s going on in my damn head, and it’s not easy to admit when I can’t positively say she’s not on the same page. Still...

When I think of her, I want more.

When I touch her, I hate to stop.

When I look at her, I see mine.

I need her to feel the same.

A half hour passes before my phone rings and I finally find myself walking out of the studio and toward the parking lot.

I answer Trent’s call.