“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.”
He nods, looking to Krista. “I’m uh, I’m gonna go help her get the rest of the shit. Be back.”
He takes off right as Demi steps up.
She bumps her hip into me, setting out the paper coffee cups and making a full coffee station with straws and spoons and shit.
“Where do you want the snacks?”
“Oh!” She turns back to her little tub and pulls out two small buckets, setting them at the other end. “Here, I’ll pour them in there.”
She reaches out, but I tug them away, swinging the bags behind me.
A small smile plays across those thick lips of hers and she leans in. “I can do it.”
“I know you can, but so can I.” My eyes shift between hers. “You should kiss me now.”
A laugh bubbles out of her as she scrunches her nose. “Oh, yeah? Why is that?”
“Because I want you to, that’s reason enough.”
Demi pushes up, bringing our mouths even. “I’d say it is.” She chuckles, pats my chest and pecks my cheek before hurrying away.
“That’s not what I had in mind!” I shout after her.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” she calls from the other side of my truck.
Krista and Trent walk back with two trays full of enchiladas his mom made us for tonight, setting them on our table with the rest of the shit right as Carley and Macy walk back, Demi right behind them.
“Are we just eating and snacking as we want?” Macy asks, peeking into one of the enchilada trays.
“Yeah, no reason to make it complicated.” Demi nods, hopping into the bed of my truck.
“Cool, I’m going to go play water pong,” she says.
“Water pong?”
“They couldn’t exactly bring beer.”
“Demi, did you seriously bring your homework?” Carley whines.
I glance at Demi, who brought beanbags for us to sit on.