Chapter 21: : Chapter 21

smiles and happy sighs all day.

Not that she’s ever overly bitchy, but her ‘good mornings’ and ‘hey, how’s it going’ are on overkill.

“Okay, so I’ll take care of the definitions if you want to find what pages the diagrams are on? It’ll help save time when we have to reference back.” Demi tilts her head, looking over her notes.

When I don’t respond, her eyes swing to mine.

I know I look curious as fuck, which is confirmed when she frowns. “What’s wrong?”

I got off with you last night and you have no idea and now you’re peppy as fuck and I can’t help but wonder—

“Earth to Nico?” She laughs.

Another obvious sign she’s not her typical self this morning. Normally, she’d roll her eyes at me.

Girl’s smiling.

“When’s the last time you had sex?”

Her eyes shoot wide, quickly darting around the classroom before coming back to me. Her voice is low and squeaky when she asks, “What?”

I drop my pencil on the tabletop, twisting in my seat to face her better. “You say you’re not a virgin.” I lean in, speaking lower, “So, when was the last time you fucked?”

She studies me a moment, her green eyes slowly moving between mine. “Why?”

When I don’t let up, she inhales deeply, offering a hesitant, “Awhile.”

“How long is awhile to you, D?”

“How long is it to you?” she challenges, her attempt to delay.

“I haven’t had sex since the last time you watched it happen, and it feels like a fucking year’s passed. Especially now.”

A hint of confusion lines her brows before she realizes what I’m saying – she is making it harder.

Literally, though.

She fights a grin, looking away, but I quickly pull her eyes back to mine.

We’re in class, people are all around, so every touch counts.

“You haven’t given me much,” I whisper, running my fingertip down her jawline. “Tell me.”

She licks her lips, her focus deepening before a light chuckle leaves her. “You’re really good at this,” she murmurs.

Now it’s me who laughs and I let my hand fall. “I’m just sayin’, I think I deserve it.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” she teases, shaking her head, but then she must think for a long moment because she gives in. “Sophomore year and don’t make fun. Not everyone is the same and needs it the way other people do.”

I heard nothing after sophomore year.

Two years ago.

She hasn’t fucked in two years.

“When did you lose your virginity?”

She tilts her head, giving me a bratty glare that says it all.

That was her first time.

“One person?”

She nods.

“Multiple times?”

“Oh my god, Nico. Stop.” She looks around.

There are eyes moving around the room, but nobody is sidled up beside us listening. Mr. Brando isn’t even in here; he left Josie in charge and walked out.

I tug her chair closer, laughing when she scowls as it scrapes loudly across the floor and more people glance our way.

She smacks my arms, but I grab her hand, and she rolls her eyes yanking it back.

We get back to working on our assignment, a few quiet minutes passing, and then she clears her throat, admitting in a whisper, “Twice.”

We turn toward each other, and a light blush creeps up her neck.

I know what she assumes I’m thinking, how she’s inexperienced, possibly incapable of pleasing a guy, or at the very least would have a lot to learn.

She’s wrong, so wrong.

She’s an empty playbook.

“It’s gonna hurt when you fuck again.”

The head of her pencil finds its way between her teeth. “What makes you say that?”

“Two times, two years ago, and likely with another first timer who doubtfully made you come, and probably didn’t thoroughly stretch you out, too afraid to hurt you. You’re basically a virgin.”

I expect her to blush harder, pull away and shut this down.

She doesn’t.

She leans in, tilting her head up to mine, her long, dark blonde hair falling over her shoulders, and smirks.

My eyes narrow.

“Oh, Nico,” she sing-songs, eyes gleaming. “You think you’re so sly, don’t you?”

“What are you talkin’ about, Pixie?”

“This sudden conversation, the real reason behind it. The extra, obviously noticeable, pep in my step today.” She doesn’t let me speak, but straightens her back, and slides off her seat. She comes to stand behind me, drapes her arms around my shoulders and places her lush lips covered in a shiny gloss today at my ear. “You think I’m not as human as you are? You asked when I last had sex. Let me ask you, when was the last time you came?” she whispers. “Could it have been maybe last night… like me?”

When my chest rumbles, her husky laugh fans across my cheek.

She decides to kill me even more with her next purred words.

“Yes, Nico. I was pent up. Yes, fake boyfriend, I had a sudden need to take care of myself last night for the first time in months. And yes, baby, it was all. Your. Fault.” She embellishes every word. “Now, your jeans are getting a little tight, so stay in that seat of yours… or show the class what little, born again virgin me does to big, bold, overworked you.”

She pats me on the shoulder and walks to the front of the room. She doesn’t ask Josie’s permission, but snags the bathroom pass from the wall and disappears out the door.

Fuck me if my starved stare doesn’t track her ass every step until she’s gone, but as my eyes slide back, it’s Alex’s they catch.

He keeps his face neutral while I can’t, and an instant glower takes over. Slowly, he pushes to stand.

The little bitch grabs the male pass and off he fucking goes.

In my peripheral, I catch Josie’s head snapping my way as I shoot to my feet, but as quick as I’m standing, the bitter and cold reality freezes me in place.

The asshole chasing her tail is the one she claims to want riding it.

She might want him on a normal day, but no matter the reason, last night she wanted me.

The thought knocks my ass back to the cheap wooden stool, but the next is the only thing keeping it planted.

I can work with that.

to masturbating to the thought of my fake boyfriend to my fake boyfriend.

I drop my head against the bathroom mirror, shaking it a moment as a light laugh escapes.

I wash my hands and then give myself a minute to stand there and think, but it takes no kind of convincing.

Plain and simple?

I like Nico.

I’m attracted to Nico, and who the hell wouldn’t be?

He’s tall with strong shoulders and muscular arms, a small tattoo under his forearm adding a little mystery, not that it’s needed. His dark, dangerous eyes are enough to pull anyone in, and with sexy, perfectly messy hair to match, full lips and bright smile, he’s more than easy on the eyes and enticing to the body.

Only, he’s so much more than what you get at first glance.

I’m slowly starting to learn who he really is, and Nico Sykes is beyond what I knew him to be.

A few weeks ago, he was nothing but the guy to the left who loved to stare, glare, and then glanced away. The seemingly too cool for school guy who disappeared whenever I was near. Or at least, that’s how it felt.

Now, though, I know better than to assume who’s behind the mask he gives so many of us.

Nico is witty and daring. He’s athletic and determined, and the most surprising to me, as judgmental as it might make me seem, compassionate.

He’s supposed to be a stranger to me, yet he showed up as if he knew I hated the feeling I was left with every time my mother walks out the door, leaving me behind like I’m no longer important enough for her to care for.

Every day I discover something new about the guy, none of which I don’t like. That’s the scariest part.

Yes, he’s moody, but I can handle it, and honestly, I think he enjoys when I challenge his snappy attitude. Sometimes he shuts down completely and without warning, but so far, he’s always come out of his funk. It’s sort of part of his appeal, not knowing what you’re going to get, but being okay with it either way.

He’s exciting and unpredictable and temporarily mine.

What the hell am I supposed to do with all this?

And how the hell did things shift so quickly?

Nico didn’t agree to the idea of more, he agreed to pretend.

This is a problem because I no longer want to fake date Nico.

I sort of want to keep him.

Would he ever be open to the idea of keeping me?

As if the universe couldn’t allow me to wonder a little longer, I exit the bathroom to find Alex standing right outside, waiting.

I stutter step, offering a tight smile, and go to walk on by, but he reaches out to stop me.

“Hey, running off so fast?” He chuckles.

I give an anxious smile. “Sorry.”

It shouldn’t feel wrong simply standing here talking to the guy, yet it does in every way.

I’m so screwed.

“What’s the rush?” He grins.

“I’ve been gone a few minutes too long.” I give a light laugh.

“I think your ninety-eight percent in the class can afford you a few extra for bathroom breaks.”

“Ninety-nine, but who’s counting,” I joke.

“Right.” He chuckles.

“I better go.” I edge away.

“Yeah, yeah. For sure.”

I give a small wave and head back, but he catches up to me before I round the corner.

“Demi, hang on a minute.”

I hesitate but then turn around. “What’s up?”

“I forgot to ask. I need a little help with the routine for homecoming.”

I straighten at the mention of my team. “Oh, right. You can ask—”

“You’re the main girl, right?” he cuts me off.

“I’m center, front line, basically, but we’re still a team.”

“You think you could help me out? After I get out of practice maybe?”

“Oh.” Shit.

Well, if this isn’t a clear ass sign I’ve officially switched teams.

“Sorry, but that’s not really a good idea,” I tell him, not missing the way his eyes tighten. “But hey, we haven’t started practicing with you guys yet. I’m sure you’ll be fine after this week.”

“Well, your coach, who is really young by the way.” He feels the need to add for some reason. “She mentioned we should practice now.”

“If you really want to, Alex, I’m sure Katy would be happy to help you,” I mention his partner.

“Yeah, but I don’t have her number.” He reaches out to grab my hand. “Help me out?”

I stare at him a minute and the gorgeous green of his eyes I used to daydream about only weeks ago. Suddenly they look more like seaweed than shiny emeralds.

I gently pull my hand from his.

His eyes harden the slightest bit.

“Sorry, I can’t, but I’ll text Katy and ask her to find you.”

I leave him standing in the hall with a staggered expression.

I walk around the corner, skidding to a stop when Nico is leaning there, his hands in his pockets, head tilted down, glare focused on the linoleum beneath his feet.

Slowly, and only with his eyes, he glances up, gauging me.

My stomach warms, and I feel the tension surrounding him, but the longer he stares, the more his features smooth. Still, he doesn’t give me much.

Sliding his shoulder against the wall, he moves closer until I’m only a foot’s space away. His hand slips into my hair, his focus now on my lips.

I keep my arms locked at my sides, my toes curling in my flats, fingers digging into my skirt as he leans in.

Waiting.

But he doesn’t kiss me.

As soon as the disappointment stirs in my gut, the warmth of his lips press down against the throbbing pulse of my neck, creating a deeper kind of heat, and my eyes close.

He has to feel it, right?

The way it kicked up the second his hands landed on me, only to grow faster and faster with every breath I took.

My control begins to break, and I’m about to yank him to me, when his mouth finally lands on mine.

I open for him and he shifts closer, his hand digging into my hair with a gentle tug.

My arms wrap around his neck, tugging him in and his chest vibrates against mine causing my nipples to harden behind my bra.

“Damn, D,” he rasps, his mouth pressing back to mine a second later.

He shifts, nudging my back into the small cut out of the wall when the squeak of footsteps across freshly polished floors passes.

Nico’s mouth falls from mine in the same second, his breathing out of control.

He eyes me a moment, then cuts a quick stare over his shoulder, at the back of Alex’s retreating body.

The reason for the show.

The warmth of Nico’s body disappears, but he grips my hand and pulls me back to class, leaving a small piece of me in that empty hallway without even realizing it.

I don’t talk much the rest of the period, a question spinning in my mind the entire time.

What happens when this show’s over?