Fake It 'Til You Break It

I wait for her to pop up, almost to the point where I’m ready to scale the fucking fence and dive in to get her when finally a mess of blonde emerges. A deep gasp follows, but she doesn’t climb out.

She lays back, floating there with her eyes closed, a tense expression covering her forehead, water wafting over her mouth as she uses only her nose to breathe.

Quietly, I open the connecting gate, finding her lock was never put back on, and walk through.

Her eyes pop open immediately, a deep frown taking over her face when she spots me looking down at her as I tug off my shoes.

She allows her body to drop, now swimming in place, only her head sticking out of the water, her eyes following my hands as I pull my shirt over my head before meeting mine.

Only when my belt clinks against my thigh, does her gaze fall to my jeans. I kick them off, quickly toss my socks, and then drop to the edge of the pool, slowly allowing my body to slip into the water.

I don’t have to move.

Demi swims to me, dipping her mouth beneath the water so only her makeup streaked eyes are showing, the deep blue of the water reflecting in her stare, making the green seem impossibly darker.

Our legs kick against each other’s slightly, and simultaneously, we both edge closer to the shallow end, swimming sideways so we’re facing one another as we move.

Once I’m able to reach the bottom, I stretch out, grip her by the hoodie and tug her toward me.

Demi already knows what to do – what I want – and her long legs find their way around my waist, bringing her body close.

Her breathing speeds up, now coming in short, quick puffs, her eyes moving between mine several times before she finally allows them to fall to my lips.

“Neek...” Her voice is a breathy whisper, and her fingers slide across my neck, skimming up and across my fade. “I don’t wanna talk.”

I hold in my groan, but my dick twitches against her.

Her eyes fly to mine, fingers spanning out, covering the base of my skull.

Slowly, torturously fucking slowly, she brings me closer. My groin tightens when the heat of her mouth brushes mine.

Her eyes close.

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

Demi jerks back with less than a second to spare, her head snapping toward the interrupting voice.

Trent stands there, right inside her house with a fuddled expression.

I glare, but then Krista’s head pops up around him, a wide smile spreading across her face.

“Hey, girl, hey!” She laughs mischievously. “Should we join you or are you about to get out?”

We were about to fuckin’ kiss.

Demi snaps out of it, her limbs fly from mine and she falls back into the water, dunking under to swim to the stairs so she can climb out.

“Damn, girl!” Krista teases. “In your clothes?”

Demi laughs, pulling her soaked hoodie over her head and letting it fall to the ground before wrapping a towel around her.

My dick is as good as limp now, so I’m right behind her, and she passes me a towel.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asks them. “And how’d you get in, did my mom leave the front open?”

“Yeah, it was open. Didn’t mean to creep, thought you might want to go eat or something?”

I grab my shit off the cement, finding Demi staring at me once I turn back around.

“Want to?” she asks me.

I study her a moment, half expecting her to shy away but she doesn’t so much as fidget, so I agree. “Be right back. I need some dry boxers.”

She rubs her lips together, nodding.

A gravelly chuckle leaves me, and I tip my chin at Trent before stepping into my yard.

It’s only when I get into my room to change that what her mom was saying dawns on me.

Ms. Davenport’s first choice for her daughter is my best fucking friend.

A golden boy, both visually and literally – 4.0, scholarship offers, a solid household, and a successful family business to take over when he’s done.

Much like the other asshole she thinks she wants.

On paper, I can agree Trent or fuckhead Alex are perfect.

I pull my clothes on and head back to Demi’s house.

When I walk in, she’s waiting for me, an easiness in her eyes that’s new to me.

What her mom fails to realize is being perfect and being perfect for Demi are two very different things.

Would she be happy with a carbon copy of herself?

I’m thinkin’ not.I can’t stop staring at his mouth.

“You literally haven’t stopped staring at his mouth,” Krista whispers the second the boys walk off.

I laugh, pulling my feet onto the booth seat, and wrapping my hands around my knees.

Way to read my thoughts.

“Be honest. You two haven’t fucked yet, have you?” She sets her phone on the table.