at his mouth.
âYou literally havenât stopped staring at his mouth,â 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.
âBe honest. You two havenât fucked yet, have you?â She sets her phone on the table.
I cut a quick glance at Trent and Nico as they order our pizza and drinks. âWhy do you say that?â
âBecause youâre both screaming blue balls.â
My mouth drops open and she laughs.
âIâm kidding, but itâs cute. You guys are like ready to pounce, but both holding back.â
Not holding back enough.
I canât believe I almost kissed him. I straight up climbed him, made the first move and everything, with no audience, and he didnât fight me on it!
Iâd almost say he wanted it.
Wanted me, for a second anyway.
It was more than that, though.
I know he heard me and my mom, just like I heard him and his dad. Thatâs the problem with connecting yards, your drama is shared with everyone around you, but Nico didnât step through that gate to judge me.
He came over knowing I needed a break from my own mind, something Iâm beginning to realize heâs all too familiar with thanks to the heavy he deals with in his own home.
That move alone speaks volumes for the boy I used to know and the man heâs becoming.
My eyes seek him out, and as if sensing it, Nico glances over his shoulder, his stare locking onto mine.
I was unfair to judge you.
A slow frown begins to form on his face, but Trent grabs his attention and itâs washed away. A few seconds later the two start back for our table.
âI say you take him home and find a way to keep him there.â Krista pulls me from my thoughts with her whisper, falling against the booth as the boyâs return.
I shake my head, fighting a smile as Nico drops beside me, and faces forward.
âSorry I couldnât find my card,â I say to Trent, not missing how Nicoâs head snaps my way. We both know thatâs a lie, but he doesnât call me out. âGive me the receipt and Iâll give you my portion at school or something.â
Trent scoffs and Krista rolls her eyes.
âOh, please.â She sips on her straw. âWe invited you guys. Like we didnât plan to pay.â
âI donât care, I donât want your boyfriend paying for my meals.â
âYeah, well, Nico didnât let me cover it anyway, so if you owe someone, itâs your boyfriend,â Trent says, dropping his arm around the back of the booth so Krista can scoot into him.
âOooh,â Krista teases. âI can give you some ideas for how to work off that debt.â
With a light laugh, I look to Nico and slip my tongue between my teeth.
His lips press together in a one-sided grin as his hand lands on my thigh for a playful squeeze.
We rock this role play thing.
The rest of the dinner is spent talking about all the fun and embarrassing things that happened over the weekend.
An hour or two passes and then weâre driving home.
My eyes keep sliding Nicoâs way on the drive and finally he turns his head my way raising a brow like an ass.
I laugh, glancing away right as we pull in front of my house.
Krista hops out to give me a quick hug, whispering in my ear, âDetails tomorrow. All of them.â
âShut up and go,â I whisper back, making her giggle.
âNic, take care of my girl, would you?â
âIâll take care of my girl, donât worry.â He grabs my hand leading me toward my own house. ââNight, Krista.â
I unlock the door as he waves bye, and then itâs just me and Nico.
I lead him into the kitchen, pulling out two sodas and holding one up in offering.
He nods, so I move toward the cabinets to take out some glasses.
âWhereâs your ma?â he asks.
âGone.â I pop back to the fridge, filling the cups with ice. âWhereâs yours?â
âSleeping.â
âYour dad?â My eyes slide his way.
He shakes his head, not willing to speak on it, not that I expected him to, but it was worth a shot.
I open the can, applying a little too much pressure and the top pops up, the tip jamming into my thumb and leaving a small cut.
âShit,â I hiss, pulling my thumb in and shaking my hand.
âWhat happened?â Nico walks closer.
I turn on the sink, running it underneath the cold water. âThe cap got me, but it looks like a clean little cut.â
âLet me see it.â
âIâm fine.â
âNow, Demi.â He doesnât wait for me to show him but grips my wrist and drags my hand to his face. âYeah, itâs not deep, a Band-Aid should do it.â
I fight a smirk. âI told you it was fine, but since you insist on helping, get me one from the cabinet above the microwave?â
He walks over, pulling it open.
âThe plastic container to the right, grab that,â I tell him.
He does and starts digging through it, finding the perfect size for my finger. âYou got some Neosporin or something?â
I pull my thumb from the water and pat a paper towel against it. âI donât know. In the drawer maybe? If not, I have another first aid kit in my car.â
Nico pulls the drawer open and starts digging around, but suddenly stops.
I shift on my feet when he stands there, unmoving a long moment before slowly looking over his shoulder at me, his body following after a moment.
My eyes tighten, roaming his face before a flash of orange catches my attention and my stare flies to his hand and the small pill bottle held in it.
I dart forward, attempting to snag it from him, but his hand wraps behind him and he stands to his full height, a blank expression masking his thoughts.
âThese yours?â he asks, even though I know he read the name printed across the label.
âI donât take them.â
âDonât lie,â he throws back, the small tablets knocking against the container as he shakes the bottle behind his back. âTheyâre half gone.â
âI didnât say I never took them, I said I donât, as in not lately.â
Nico doesnât look away, and the longer we stand here the more guilt gnaws at me, the need to explain winning over.
âMy mom⦠she doesnât accept mediocre.â I shrug. âThat was how she made sure she never got it.â
âDo you feel like you need them, to focus or any other reason?â
âDid they help? Yes. Do I need them? No.â
âThen donât take them. Youâre not a child who doesnât understand what helps you and what doesnât. Donât let anyone control what you put in your body.â He brings the pill bottle around, grabs my hand and sets it inside. He leans against the counter. âThrow them away.â
My head tugs back and then it hits me.
Pills.
The night he argued with his dad in the yard, he accused him of getting his mom addicted to pills.
Is that why sheâs asleep now?
Is she always asleep?
Thereâs an angry sense of helplessness slipping over him, one he canât control or canât hide. One that has me removing the lid off the container and dumping them into the sink. I wash them down with the soda I cut myself on and grab another, pop the top and pour.
I turn to Nico, passing him a cup. âI havenât taken them since finals last year,â I offer quietly. âIt was never about addiction. It was appeasing my mother, which I guess is sort of what I was addicted to.â
For what seems like a lifetime, he stares, but finally takes a small drink. His shoulders lower with his glass.
Thereâs a shift in the air, and suddenly the tension in the room is an entirely different kind.
I replay him and I in the water in my mind, and Iâve got a feeling heâs doing the same as his eyes darken before me, the tip of his tongue coming out to tease his bottom lip the slightest bit.
I focus on my drink, his nearness so overwhelming that I lead us into a larger space, my living room.
Tell me why Iâm nervous?
âBecause your body is leading your mind.â
My head snaps to Nico and he chuckles.
âYeah, you said that out loud.â
I laugh anxiously. âIâm sorry Iâm a mess. Itâs been a day. Iâm so sore from double practices, then this unintentional sharing session weâve just had, and the whole my momâs bleeding me dry thingâ¦â I trail off, looking at him. âThanks for not saying anything at dinner.â
He eyes narrow in query. âYour friends donât know?â
âThat my mom spends more than most people earn in a month in a week?â A dejected laugh escapes. âNo, they donât know. They know sheâs all about her outings butâ¦â I shrug.
My friends donât necessarily love my mom, but they donât hate her either, and Iâd like to keep it that way. Knowing she takes from me would piss them off and once you lose respect for someone itâs really hard to get it back.
I shouldnât care to preserve their feelings toward her, but I do it anyway.
Nico looks around, taking in the picturesque living area that clearly goes unlived-in. âHow often is she gone?â
âThereâs, what, typically thirty days in the month? So, twenty-two, twenty-five.â
He frowns. âYouâre alone more than not.â
I turn, focusing on the bland images along the wall. âI donât mind.â
âYeah you do.â
That has me glancing over my shoulder. âWhat makes you say that?â
âYou spend most of your time outside,â he says, flicking the ugly tassels dangling from the edge of a couch pillow. âBet itâs because you hate being in here by yourself.â
Like you, you mean?
Is he by himself as much as me?
I shrug, trailing the length of the fireplace before I spin and give a roundabout answer. âIâm used to it.â
âThatâs shitty.â
âMaybe.â I nod, moving us back into safer ground. âBut I told you I didnât want to talk about it, remember?â
His chuckle is full of innuendo as he cocks his head, leaning on the edge of an armchair. âYeah, Little D. I remember.â
Okay, not safer ground!
I quickly turn, flipping on the TV as an excuse to look away.
Why do I like him here?
I shouldnât.
Should I?
The light shuffle of Nicoâs feet should have been expected, he wonât accept my holding back. The hairs on the base of my neck stand as my was-steady hand begins to wobble against the remote.
Am I seriously this pent up?
Nicoâs fingers wrap around mine and he gently takes it from me.
He makes no other move, his breath purposefully cascading over the exposed skin on my shoulders, so I attempt to settle myself and spin to face him.
It must be what he wanted, my attention fully and completely on him â my fake boyfriend I almost real kissed.
He wastes no time, instantly stepping in until the heels of my feet meet the entertainment center.
His hair falls into his eyes, blocking the smallest bit of his face from me.
For some reason, Iâm not at all okay with that.
I pull my lips between my teeth, reaching up to brush it away, but my touch is too hesitant for his liking, so he helps apply some pressure, keeping his fingers on mine as he leads them to his neck, dragging them around to trail over his throat where he releases me, allowing my hand to fall to my side.
âYouâre my girl, right?â he rasps.
âThatâs what we agreed toâ¦â
His glare is quick and he pauses. âThe answer is yes, Demi, and since the answer is yes, that means when you touch me, you mean it.â
My pulse beats heavy in my throat and I think I nod.
âKnow what else it means?â He shuffles closer, one dark brow jacking up. âYou can touch me anytime you want, however you want, and I wonât stop you.â
I free my lips from between my teeth and his eyes darken.
âBecause of our arrangement?â
Nicoâs soft chuckle fans across my mouth and he steps back, tossing the remote to the couch. âNo, D. I wonât stop you because Iâm not a fool⦠or a saint.â He shrugs unapologetically.
âDoes this mean itâs the same for you? You can touch me whenever you want⦠how you want?â My chin lowers, but my eyes stay on his.
He licks his full lips. âYou tell me.â
Whatâs it mean if the answer feels a lot like a âyesâ?
This is bad, right? Iâm not prepared for Nicoâs hands to have free rein of my body.
Who am I kidding⦠there is no preparing for a guy like him.
Fake feelings or not.
The hint of his grin further proves heâs in my head more than he should be. ââNight, D. Keep these doors locked.â
âYes, Dad.â
His smirk is slow, and I laugh, pushing him away.
Iâm more than happy to end the night on a lighter note.
He starts across the yard, and a question pops in my head.
One I shouldnât ask but canât handle not knowing the answer to.
âHey, Neek!â
His feet pause in the grass and he glances over his shoulder, nodding his chin.
âWill you make me want it first?â I ask, not spelling out what âitâ could mean.
Knowing him, thereâs a long list of answers to be named.
Nicoâs brows jump, but a knowing look quickly replaces his surprise, and in true Nico fashion, he calls me out on my obvious physical response to all that is him.
The corner of his mouth tips up, half his face blanketed by darkness. âAs opposed to you, what, D, not wanting it?â
And then heâs gone.
But the heat in my abdomen isnât.
bed for over an hour, and sleep is the furthest thing from my mind.
Straight up, Iâm in fucking trouble.
Iâm not sure what I expected when I flipped the fuck out and threw this idea of faking us on her.
Once it was out, there was no taking it back, and the second Hammons saw us together, going easy wasnât an option.
The part had to be played and played well.
I knew people would believe it, that it wouldnât take much effort, but what I didnât anticipate was how easily sheâd accept me as hers.
Accept the lie.
I was being real when I told Trent I think she likes this. I told him she was bored, but now Iâm realizing itâs more than that.
The girlâs not only bored, but lonely as hell and thatâs fucked up.
Sheâs a gorgeous, smart, talented â single â girl, with good friends and a lively personality.
People donât get it, how someone with popularity and looks and a gifted ability, loved by many and envied by more can stand before hundreds and feel completely fucking invisible.
I get it.
I was able to read her today with unmistakable, relatable precision.
The starved look in her eyes, the need in her touch, the plea from her body.
She wanted to feel something and decided quickly, I was it.
Had Trent and Krista not interrupted, Iâd have let her take what she wanted, giving twice as much in return.
Iâve imagined what her body would feel like against mine more than I care to admit, how soft her thick, dancerâs thighs would be, how quick her heated breaths would come. How quick she would come.
I groan, and before I realize it, Iâm gripping my dick in my hand, squeezing in an attempt to alleviate the ache.
I scoot up to my headboard, my head falling against it as I begin to stroke myself, the quiet pants from her mouth replaying in my ears. I slide my hand from base to tip, groaning lightly, remembering the greedy way she pulled me to her, and the strength of her legs locked around my body, begging for me to come closer.
An unexpected shock wave rushes down my spine causing my knee to jolt, and I pump faster.
A small flash has my head snapping toward my window in time to catch Demi having just turned off her patio light.
I jump up, moving closer to the glass to see her better.
Itâs dark as fuck, nothing but the gleam of her white bikini helping me trail her as she lowers herself into her hot tub. The small underwater light kicks on with the jets, and the water starts splashing across her breasts in gentle waves.
With one hand still on my dick, I squeeze, a deep frown marring my forehead as I decide if I should stop.
Itâs one thing to imagine, itâs another to watch her as I work myself.
But then Little Dâs head turns and tilts the slightest bit, now aimed right at the second floor of my house. At what she knows to be my bedroom.
Adrenaline flares and I place my hand on the frame, leaning over slightly as her head shifts back and forth the littlest bit.
Lookinâ for me, baby?
Demi rests against the wall seat and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I canât be sure, but Iâd swear her legs spread wider beneath the bubbles, the creaminess of her skin no longer centered in the water.
My pulse jumps, my dick, still hard as a rock right there with it when her little hands disappear under the froths.
Her head tilts, exposing her neck some, and fuck me, she keeps her eyes locked this way.
She canât see me, I know this for a fact. My house is pitch fucking black and the moon doesnât shine against the backside of my place as it does hers.
But damn, if it doesnât stop her from trying, or maybe, if sheâs as much like me as Iâm learning, her imagination is doing just fucking fine.
For now.
My features pull, and itâs done.
If I had any chance of stopping before, I donât now.
My grip tightens, my dick swelling even more, flexing in my palm.
She must like a slow start as sheâs calm and relaxed, her forearm hardly moving so I follow her lead in secret, with slow and measured movements, squeezing every few strokes to add some extra pressure.
Demi shifts, both her feet coming up to plant on the concrete seat near her sides. Her legs are so damn long the new position has her knees completely out of the water, giving me a tiny glimpse of how fun her flexibility could be.
When her other hand moves to grip her own neck, I fall forward, my arm now holding me up as I jerk harder, faster.
My hips jolt forward, a deep groan leaving me as heat spreads through my veins.
Her head falls all the way back and her lips part, her chest rising above the steam as she gasps into the air.
I imagine the sounds escaping as her hand trails lower, slipping under the tiny white scrap of material covering her breasts. She massages herself, her core lifting in the water as she fights for her release.
Come on, baby.
Demiâs legs stiffen, shooting down into the water as her chin falls to her chest, and I swear I can feel her fuckinâ trembling from here.
My toes curl into the carpet and squeeze, my free hand flying down to catch the cum she unknowingly pulls from me, my shoulder knocking into the window.
A shockwave shoots through me and my muscles clench tight before everything in me relaxes.
I drop my head against the glass.
I just got off with Demi Davenport, but she hasnât the slightest fucking clue.
And me? I have not an ounce of fucking guilt for it.
None.