Fake It 'Til You Break It(74)

I pretend to gag and he laughs, bumping my body into the car with his.

“Please, never be the cheesy poet.”

“I thought it was cute!” Macy shouts as she walks off.

I hold in my grin while Nico’s deepens.

“You like me better when I’m bein’ a dick.”

“I like you better when you sit there and look pretty,” I joke.

He pushes closer. “You think I’m pretty, Pixie?”

A laugh bubbles out of me, and I wrap my hands around his neck, leaning into him, and satisfaction burns deep in his eyes.

“I think you’re a fine specimen, Nico Sykes, but if you don’t get your ass to the coffeehouse and to the school in time to have our bags checked, I might change my mind and—”

He captures my mouth with an unexpected kiss, but I’m ready for him, and need no time to think. I’ve been waiting to feel his lips again.

Nico’s lips are soft, but his kiss is hard, a strong pressure from his mouth to mine that doesn’t last near as long as it should. His tongue ghosts the edge of my lips, not invading, and quick.

Too quick.

He tugs away and my body tries to go with him.

A raspy, sexy, chuckle escapes him, and he whispers in my ear. “Watch it, D,” he teases and my core heats. “I might pull you into the house.”

“I might let you,” I whisper.

His laugh is louder this time as he tugs free and heads for his truck while I’m stuck, practically panting, as I stare after him.

“You need help, Dem?”

Trent pulls me from my mind. “Huh, no I’m good. We’re good.”

He studies me a moment before glancing around – the girls are digging through bags in the trunk, and Nico’s already in his vehicle turning the engine over.

“Dem.” He gets my attention once again. “Are things getting serious between you and Nic?”

I frown, an instant stir in my stomach putting me on edge. “Why are you asking me this?”

Tension lines his forehead and he takes a small step forward. “You know why, Demi.”

“Wha—”

“Ride with me, Trent,” Nico shouts from the driver’s seat of his truck, cutting off our conversation.

He’s got his window rolled down, eyes sliding from me to his buddy.

“My brother, remember?” Trent reminds him, slipping his hands in his pockets.

Macy overhears and walks over, holding her hand out with a grin, so I pass over my car keys.

I cut a quick glance at Trent who rubs at the back of his neck, looking off, and then skip around Nico’s truck. I tap the hood as I go, his eyes following me until I’m sliding in the passenger seat.

“Rude.” I take my time buckling the seatbelt, my stare slowly making its way to his. “Ask your boy before your girl?” I tease.

Nico leans over, and I meet him halfway with a smirk.

“My girl.” He damn near hums, just to hear himself say it I’m guessing. “They watchin’ us?”

I look past his head to find everyone is climbing into their designated vehicles. “Nope.”

Suddenly, my neck is in his hands and his mouth is on mine.

It’s even shorter and quicker than the other, not even giving me an extra second to meet his eyes before he’s gone, yet somehow, this kiss manages to leave me wanting more than the last.

More than this short ride alone with him.

More of it all.

I’ve been looking forward to Senior Sunrise for weeks, now I wouldn’t mind skipping it completely. I don’t tell Nico that though, and five minutes later he’s disappearing inside the coffee shop while I wait in the truck.

It’s not until he exits, both hands full, that I realize what he did back at my house.

It was simple, subtle, and small, and even though we admitted this is more than pretend, he still did exactly what I asked of him last Friday night.

He proved it.



As soon as I get the table set up, Trent pushes the ice chest beneath it and the trucks parked alongside ours follow our set up, laying their shit a few feet out from the tailgates.

It’s Senior Sunrise, so all the seniors come back to school at eight in the evening, set up and play games, eat and bullshit all through the night, the entire class – or everyone who makes it out – watching the sunrise together.

The school allows those with a truck and the grades a first come first serve ticket to park along the outer edge of the fencing, so there are about thirty of us making a large U around the open field while the others parked in the parking lot and brought random shit and filled up the middle.

They’ve got everything from tables and chairs to blow up mattresses and even a real one, and another group is inflating full blown rafts to chill in.

“Is that a fucking futon, bro?” Trent laughs.

I glance over my shoulder, finding four guys carrying it across the grass. I chuckle, shaking my head. “People are for real about this shit. I heard a couple years ago the basketball team took the entire center, made a fat ass circle with dozens of trampolines.”

“Yeah, I saw that. I was helping set up games out here that year when they were bringing them in.” He laughs.

“That’s right, you were on leadership with Demi that year.”