She pops up, gaping at me a second before she laughs. “I took that towel quick, huh?”
“You suck.” I laugh, dropping beside Carley.
“Oh, please. You should thank me.”
“For?” My hands plant on my hips.
“Because, now every time in chem, when he thinks about being an ass, he’ll instead be thinking about dat ass.”
I frown, but it quickly turns into a laugh when the girls start to crack up.
We lay out as long as the sun allows, and not an hour later, they’re piling in Krista’s car.
“Demi, is that your phone?” Krista shouts out the window.
I frown, my eyes moving to the hood of my car, where she’s pointing.
I walk toward it, noting my glittery PopSocket on the back right away.
What the hell?
Slowly, I pick it up, glancing around, but then it hits.
Nico.
My shoulders fall, and I look to the girls.
“No.” Carley gapes. “That’s why he came over?”
Damn.
“I must have left it in class and he picked it up for me.” I groan. “I was an asshole.”
“It’s fine.” Krista rolls her eyes. “He’s an asshole, too.”
A laugh bubbles out of me and she grins.
“Just, thank him tomorrow or something,” Carley tells me.
“Or now, whatever works.” Macy’s brows bounce.
I ignore her and head back inside, locking the door behind me.
I take the stairs two at a time, irritated at myself for being rude when I had no reason other than I was embarrassed by my mom’s words and actions.
Fully annoyed with everything, I do my homework, take a shower, and go to bed.
My eyes peel open to find my room pitch black, nothing but the moonlight shining through the window.
I lean over the edge of the bed, snagging my phone off the carpet to check the time.
It’s just after midnight, when I’d normally be falling asleep.
I drop back, but as soon as I hit the pillow, my body flies forward, my head snapping toward the window.
Is that... moaning?
I concentrate, the splash of water against concrete mixing with the proof of someone’s pleasure hitting my ears.
Slowly, I pull myself from bed and take the few steps forward until I’m peeking out my blinds.
It takes a second, but the soft laughter pulls my eyes over my fence and right where the noises are coming from – the hot tub connected to the neighbor’s pool behind me. Nico’s pool.
A small gasp leaves me, and I dart away from the window.
He’s not...
No. My eyes are playing tricks.
I step forward, peeking again, and holy shit!
My mouth drops open as I stare at Nico fucking a girl with long dark hair against the side of his hot tub.
He’s got his hands braced at the curve of the cement, giving me the perfect view of the muscles working in his back. The girl is bent over in front of him, half her body out of the water, and lying against the cooled cement.
His hand disappears, and I can only imagine it’s to grip or smack her ass, but I can’t say for sure.
His body moves slowly, methodically almost, like he’s taking his time with her, completely unrushed and enjoying, giving her long, slow strokes.
Deep, full strokes?
I take a deep breath, only for my eyes to widen a second later.
Oh my god!
I jump backward again.
Why am I watching him have sex, and better yet, why am I imagining the way he’s fucking her?
How he’d fuck me?
Wait, what?
No!
I growl, but my hands make no move to close the window, and my feet don’t carry me to my bed. No, my eyes close and my ears perk.
The night is dead silent, so even the slightest wallow of water reaches my ears. It’s light at first, and then louder, more of a slap against the cement edge.
The moaning starts again. Brash, brazen moaning, both male and female, and I have no self-control. I look again.
He has her on the edge now, her forearms braced against the cement, fingers curled around the edge, head dropped back.
My body grows hot and I swallow. “Good fucking god,” I whisper, my hand moving to my throat.
They’ve moved to the opposite side, the front of his body now facing mine, allowing me to see the cuts of his chest and abs, and the delicious way they tighten with every thrust forward.
I don’t realize I’ve moved closer to the window until my forehead hits the glass and my phone falls from my hand, dropping right onto the edge of my toe.
I yelp and fall against the glass, and then I freeze, my eyes shooting wide.
“Oh no...” I whisper to myself, squeezing my eyes closed.
Did they hear me?
Did they see the shake of the open blinds?
I take a deep breath and perk my ears.
When more moaning is caught, I decide it’s safe, that they have no idea I went full-on Peeping Tammy.
I open my eyes and I’m instantly rooted in place, heat washing over my body in such a rush I grow lightheaded, my palm flying up to plant on the wall beside me.
They heard me, or more, he heard me, saw me. Caught me.
His eyes are lasered on my window. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say locked directly on mine, darkness be damned.
Nico has her by the hips now, her ass perched how he wants it as he delivers one hell of a show.
A show I couldn’t look away from if I tried, a performance I feel deep in my core. One that, admittedly, has need spreading through my body as he works the cum from hers.
A few minutes go by where I can’t tell if they’re moving at all, and then he suddenly slips back, the bubbles of the hot tub spanning across his torso.
Slowly, his shoulders lift, Nico now standing to his full height, and my hand spans across my chest, my body rising to its tippy toes of its own accord, just in case the move allows me to see an inch lower.
Just one more inch to the prize—
My thoughts are interrupted when the girl glides around him, running her fingers across his slick skin as she goes.
In all her naked glory, she steps from the pool like a gleaming goddess, shifting to the side to grab a towel, and that’s when I see her face.
Sandra fucking Black.
All morning I told myself I’d walk into class today with my head held high.
I’m not embarrassed, and it’s no big deal and who knows, maybe I overreacted and he was zoned out. Didn’t know I was their willing audience.
I repeat this mantra the entire drive to school, and by the time I’m turning the engine off, I’m feeling good.
Lipstick in hand, I flip down the overhead mirror and take my time applying before stepping out. I shove the door closed, and turn, a gasp leaving me when an unexpected body blocks me in.
Nico.
My hand flies to my chest, attempting to settle my pulse. “You scared the shit out of me,” I tell him.
But Nico doesn’t speak, instead sliding his feet closer, leaving only inches between us, so I push back against the car.
His stare is unwavering, giving me no insight as to what’s on his mind and causing me to grow restless.
I fidget but don’t look away as he cocks his head.
“You a fan of porn, D?”
“I—” Shit.
Nico plants his hands at the curve of my hood, his arms flexing so damn close to my face my mind transports back to last night, to the tight grip he had on the rock edge of the spa, to the vision of his muscles flexing as he slid—
A raspy chuckle leaves him, and he pushes off.
“You know, I’d have invited you over, VIP seats had I known. Bet Sandra would have been all right with it, she’s first string material and she knows it.”
That rouses me, and I shove off the car with a glare. “
I thought you said Alex was the one sleeping with Sandra?”
He only licks his lips.
“Weird, right?” I keep going. “Since it was you I saw—”
“Watched,” he cuts me off, leaning closer. “You watched me fuck her.”
Oh, screw it!
“You know what, yeah, I did. Until the final bow, in fact,” I sass. “If you knew I was watching you guys, why’d you keep going?”
Very slowly, a single, dark eyebrow raises, his tone is even more patronizing than the move. “You’d expect me to stop?”
Right.
As if he could have stopped amid that.
They were so lost in each other they didn’t even – or couldn’t even – realize how loud they were being.
He had Sandra in tunnel vision, a tunnel that leads straight down his shaft.
I mean, he was enjoying her just as much, his groans... deep and exhilarated as he chased his release.
The way his—
“Your skin’s growing warm, D.” Nico pulls me out of my thoughts. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” he whispers, the teasing edge in his heady voice not missed.
The way he studies me with such piercing scrutiny has my toes curling in my shoes to keep focus, and it makes me wonder...
How ‘lost in her’ was he really, if the entire time he was aware of my prying eyes?
“Am I interrupting something?”
My head flies right to find Trent standing near the hood of my car, some sort of drinks in his hands.
Eyes wide in shock, and a stupid grin on his lips, he gawks at his best friend and me.
Nico, though, he doesn’t bother to acknowledge Trent’s presence.
I roll my tongue over my teeth before glancing back to him.
He keeps his hazardous gaze locked on me the entire time, but if I still knew the boy in front of me, I’d swear humor swims deep within them.
Yeah, he knows what I was thinking.
Nico licks his lips, nods a little, then moves for his buddy. “Catch you in class, D.”
Catch me thinking about your perfect form? Please don’t!
I groan internally, dropping my head against the car, but quickly remember I need to thank him if not apologize.
“Nico, wait!” I call out.
He freezes mid-step, glancing over his shoulder. Of course, he doesn’t bother turning all the way around but nods for Trent to keep walking, so I move toward him.
“Thanks for bringing me my phone last night. You didn’t have to do that.”
He faces forward. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Right.” I roll my eyes at his back, walking as he does. “Well, I’m sorry for being bitchy when you were being helpful.”
He scoffs, pushes the door open and shifts to hold it with his back, indicating with a jerk of his chin for me to step through.
My eyes lock with his as I pass him, and he drops his head against the small glass window. “See you in class, D.”
Something in my stomach stirs, but I don’t say anything, only nod and keep past him.
Trent catches up to me around the corner. “Okay, what did I miss?”
“You don’t wanna know.”
“That bad?” he jokes.
“Well, your brooding bestie likely hates me more now.” I look to him, giving a big innocent smile.
He scoffs, shaking the nasty looking green drink in his hands. “Trust me, he don’t hate you.”
Right as he says it, Nico comes around the corner, takes one look at us and glares.
I laugh, hitting Trent in the stomach as I walk off. “But he doesn’t hate me.”
Trent lifts his hands, grinning and moves away to meet his angrily awaiting friend.
I head to first period, making it right as the bell rings, the whole way reminding myself to forget about the scene in the hot tub, knowing for a fact... I won’t.
From there, the day goes by rather quickly, each class getting deeper into lectures now that the new school year is in full swing, so there was no time to sit and be embarrassed over everything with Nico, who doesn’t so much as glance my way when I drop into the chair beside him in chemistry.
Mr. Brando, thankfully, gets right to it, clapping his hands to gain the students’ full attention. “I won’t say from who, but counting all five of my classes, I have received a total of twenty-one emails from students asking for new partners.” He shakes his head, disappointed.
The scoff from Nico couldn’t be more obvious – or loud. Asshole.
His friends glance our way with light chuckles, but he doesn’t acknowledge them. He doesn’t acknowledge the glare from his ex, who in a horrible twist of events is the new teacher’s aide during our class period, either.
Clearly, he assumes I was one of them when truth be told I didn’t even bother, not after the teacher’s comment when I first tried.
Mr. Brando folds his arms in front of him. “A little insight for you on me as a teacher? I like to work on more than my required curriculum. The first week is spent going over necessary review, yes, but I also use that time to study each of you as individuals. Everyone, especially those who aren’t so sure about the experience you will have with the person you were assigned to, look around the room. Check out each pairing in this class.”
I do as asked and am surprised by the clear line he drew between each duo. At first glance, it’s completely stereotypical – athletes with drama students, shy with exuberant, goth with preppy – but his next words prove this was his exact intent.
“I paired everyone in here with someone as opposite, visually and on paper, as I could find, some may seem subtler than others, but I assure you, there is a reason. I started by looking at who you requested, then went over your schedules from freshman year to now. I know all your extracurriculars, the ones the school knows about anyway, spoke to your past teachers, coaches, and here you are.”
I spot Ella Marshal with Samuel Banks in the front corner, and my brows lift in surprise.
Samuel is a rude, cocky basketball player who thinks he’s godly and pays no mind to those he considers less than him. And Ella, shit, I don’t think she’s ever even made eye contact with a guy before.
Right now, Samuel is leaning back in his seat, trying to hide his phone between his legs while Ella is leaning as far away as possible, arms folded in her lap, head slightly down. It’s almost cruel to put them together.
But me and Nico? Alex and Evan? What, were we the leftovers? Our pairings don’t seem so extreme now.
We run in the same crowd, we’re both athletes.
His best friend is dating one of mine, that more than screams ‘same circle’.
I glance at Nico, and what do you know, he’s already giving me those side-eyes he’s practiced in, not bothering to shift his head my way.
Mr. Brando starts talking again, so I face forward.
“There will be many times in life where you are forced to get along with, not just tolerate, someone opposite of you or someone you frankly don’t like for whatever reason.” He walks to the front of the classroom, scanning over everyone. “I like to think part of my job is to assist you in seeing beyond the hair, the clothes, the crowd, and reach the person underneath. That being said, please place your materials back in your bags.”
I frown but do as he asks, glancing around the room to see the same confusion on the other’s faces.
“A few days a week, our class time will be spent in different areas of the school. Phones will be left on the tops of the desks, where I can see them”—he knocks his knuckles on Samuel’s side of the table and his head snaps up from his screen—“and the fifty-three minutes of class time will be spent simply getting to know each other. I have a prompt for you for the first few days, but you don’t have to use it. You can be inventive. Anything you wish to speak about, you may, so long as everyone remains respectful. Today we will be in the quad, neutral ground. So, ladies and gentlemen, phones face down, and make your way out the d
oor, grab a paper from me on your way.”
Everyone does as we’re asked and we shuffle out and toward the quad.
People start dropping onto picnic tables and grassy areas, some shifting uncomfortably while others have no choice but to follow steps behind their demanding partners.
I glance around, noticing Evan and Alex walk clear to the other side.
“Is here okay?” I ask Nico. We’re only steps out the door, but already at the edge of the grass.
Nico doesn’t say anything, but sits and pats the ground beside him for me to join, like I wasn’t already about to.
I get set to read over the paper, but Nico’s hand comes down to cover it and I look to him with a frown.
He quirks a dark brow.
“What?”
“Can’t ask your own questions, things you might be curious about?”
“Who says I’m curious about anything?”
His jaw tics, and after a few seconds of silence, Nico snatches the paper from my hands, crumpling it in his own.
I gape at him. “What’s your problem?”
His gaze narrows. “Let’s do this a little different, yeah?”
“Different how?”
“Mr. B said it’s about misconception, right?” Nico starts, licking his lips. “So, tell me, D. What do you see when you look at me?”
“I...” I start, but quickly trail off.
What do I see?
I look from his hair, shaved at the side, perfect little mess at the top, to his deep cocoa-colored eyes and long lashes. He’s wearing a plain t-shirt, nothing fancy, and no sleeves – to show off his arms maybe? And I mean, they’re worth the show. Not bulging but clear evidence of the weight training class the team is required to take zero period, and they only tighten, becoming more prominent when he moves them around. He wears perfectly fitted jeans – not skinny but not baggy, and his shoes always match his shirt in some way.
My eyes roam over my form, and I begin to equate his perfection to my own body. I’ve always been comfortable in my own skin, but more and more my mom likes to comment about how I’m still a ‘work in progress’.
“D.”
My stare pulls back to Nico, who observes me with unreadable eyes.
Fake It 'Til You Break It Page 3