Fake It 'Til You Break It

He glares.

I lick mine, letting warm air flow from my mouth, knowing it’s carrying to his.

“I thought I was a good girl, Neek?”

His jaw flexes slightly, the dark of his eyes amplifying the slightest bit.

Nico, not one to back down, scoots his body closer. “Prove it, D. Lay them thick lips on mine. Right here, right now.”

I fold and a heavy chuckle leaves him, but he doesn’t scoot away. He stays put until the teacher comes in and announces where we’re to ‘get to know’ our partners today.

The theatre.

Nico jumps up, grabs my hand and tugs me out the door.

I can’t help but notice the shock on Mr. Brando’s face as we fly by him.

When we enter, Nico looks at me.

“We’re not going to my spot,” I tell him.

“Why not? I took you to mine.”

“I didn’t ask you to, but we do need privacy. We have shit to talk about.”

“No.”

My mouth drops open. “No?”

He nods. “I’ll come over later, we can talk then.”

“To my house?”

He steps closer. “That a problem?”

I guess not. “What time were you thinking?”

“Practice isn’t over until five.”

“I have a studio class today, so I’m across town until six.”

“Fine. Seven?”

“Okay, but what about right now?”

He looks around, spotting Evan and Alex on the stairs to the stage, and then looks back to me. “Come on.”

Hesitantly, I follow.

I squeal lightly when he suddenly lifts me by the hips and sets me on the edge so my legs are dangling over the side. Nico hops up beside me.

“Why did you and Josie break up?” The question flies from my mouth before I can stop it.

Nico’s glare swings to mine. “Why?”

“Shouldn’t I know that?”

“No.” His answer is instant.

“But you tried to convince me you needed to know about my bedroom preferences and experiences,” I whisper, mockingly.

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I have to know how to please you, Demi. It’s all a part of being your man. You don’t need to know why my ex couldn’t do the same for me.”

I look away, willing the heat creeping up my neck to go away. I glance back at Nico to find him frowning.

“Why you asking?” he questions.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act when it comes to her, she knows you more than anyone I’m guessing, so it’s a lot,” I admit. “Being yourself is working just fine for you, I don’t want to be the one to screw this up without even realizing it.”

Nico doesn’t say anything at first, but then hops down.

He nudges my knees open so he can step between them causing my inner thighs to rest against his ribs due to the added height of the stage.

A seriousness slides over his face and he holds my attention.

“You’re supposed to act like you want me. That is your job.”

After a moment I nod, reiterating what he said to me before, “Make people believe this.”

He shakes his head, reaching up to tuck a loose piece of my hair behind my ear.

“No?”

“No,” he confirms. “Not people.” He leans in skimming his nose across my cheek, his lips pausing at my ear. “Me. Make me believe it, D.”

Goosebumps spread across my arms, and his eyes fall as he notices, ever so slowly rising back to mine.

I’d be lying if I said they were caused solely from nerves.

Make him believe it, he said.

Why does it sound so enticing to try?

The challenge in it maybe, or the doubt I assume he has, that everyone will have soon when all they get from us is some middle school hand holding bullshit.

No way does Nico think I could possibly act so well that even he would believe we were an us. That’s where his challenge lies.

Or at least that’s what I tell myself when I drag my ass to the edge of the stage, my center pressing into his ribs, lips aligned with his, and wait.

There’s zero hesitation from Nico.

His hand shoots to the back of my neck, and an instant, low groan leaves him as he applies a heavy pressure to my mouth, one I feel between my legs.

My thigh muscles clench against him and his tongue attempts to pry my mouth open, but I tug away.

Holy shit my heart is beating like crazy, I’m pretty sure it’s visible through my shirt.

Nico frowns as he licks his lips, tasting mine on his skin and his hand lowers, now cupping my outer thighs.

There, we did it.

We kissed for our classmates to see.

For Alex to see.

For show.

Right?Snack bag in hand, I drop beside Macy on the blanket. “Where are the girls?”

“They went to the vending machines to get us drinks really quick. Here.” She hands me a sub sandwich. “Trent’s mom dropped off a bunch of sandwiches for us.”

“Awesome.” I set it in my lap, pulling some pretzels from our bag while Macy chooses Hot Fries.

“Turkey and avocado, hold the cheese, Dem,” Trent shouts from where he and the boys are, a picnic table a few feet over.