Fake It ‘Til You Break It Read online Meagan Brandy

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 111464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
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What the fuck does that mean?

Carley stares a moment, only looking away when Demi walks up, dropping beside me.

Without a word and leaving several inches between us.

What the fuck?

She was playful, confident – sexy as fuck – a few days ago, we didn’t get to hang this weekend, sure, but suddenly today, after a couple hours with that prick, she’s taken a page from my playbook and gone silent?

Fuck this.

I set my drink on the glass coffee table with a hard thud and shoot to my feet.

“I’m out,” I announce, my eyes falling to hers. “You ready or you gonna get a ride from someone else?”

She frowns.

Yes, we’ve only been here for a little over an hour.

No, I don’t give a shit.

“I planned to ride with you.”

So get up. Leave with me.

She stares a moment and right when I’m positive she’s saying bye to me, she turns to Carley.

Carley smiles at her. “Text me when you leave for school in the morning if you want me to grab you a coffee.”

Demi nods as she stands.

She could easily walk past me and out the front door. She doesn’t.

She grabs my hand, gingerly lacing her fingers into mine, but there’s something in the way they hold on that has my skin tingling. Her tired eyes meet mine.

Fuck me, my chest muscles pull, and I discreetly clench my teeth.

Movement behind us lets me know Carley has walked out, and I can’t stop my feet from shifting closer.

I lift my right hand, using my pinky to brush her hair from her face, allowing it to fall through my fingers at the curve of her breast.

Her chest expands, the edge of her shirt feathering across my knuckle.

“What’s on your mind?” she whispers.

I don’t know how or when I moved, but suddenly she’s sitting on the edge of the couch looking up at me with low, heady eyes.

My hands drop, sliding up her sides and her chin lifts to keep our eyes connected.

“You mad at me, D?”

She shakes her head.

“You sit by Alex on the bus today?” I ask, unable to cover the aggravation in my voice.

She shakes her head again.

“Did you want to?”

She licks her lips. “That why you’ve been giving me angry eyes all night?”

“Yes.”

My instant response has her chuckling but just as quickly, a question crosses her face.

I’ll bet she’s asking herself what it means, why I’d be angry, or say I was, for her getting closer to who she’s supposed to be getting closer to with this little deal of ours.

“What if...” she whispers.

“What, Pixie?” I lean in, my grip tightening, and she sucks in a deep breath. “What if... what?”

Her lips part the slightest bit, so I take them.

I drop my mouth to hers, my dick twitches in my jeans when hers opens even more and my tongue is awarded with the full taste of hers, but it’s quickly deflated when laughter and mocking noises echo around us.

She tugs back, a small frown on her face as she looks at me before it’s wiped away and a forced chuckle escapes her.

Some of my teammates walk by, clapping me on the back like dicks, but it’s Alex who my eyes zone in on and the stupid fuckin’ smirk on his face.

I look back to Demi who focuses on her fingernails until a few of the guys say hi to her as they pass.

Demi gives them tight waves, then slowly slips past me and out the door.

I wait for them to disappear around the corner, then drop my head back. A sigh leaves me and I walk outside to meet her.

I never got my answer.

What if what?

I juke left only to slant right for a quick, short pass, and then Coach blows the whistle.

“Good, good. All right, blue squad off, white on,” he calls, lifting his hands for me to pass him the ball.

Other than the O-line, the rest of the team steps off the field so second string can get a couple reps in.

I grab a water bottle, squirting some in my mouth before passing it to Trent.

He watches as his backup QB steps into the pocket. With a little pressure put on him, he releases too early, throwing an interception on his first drive.

Trent scoffs, looking my way as he hands the water back. “Better hope I don’t get injured. This fool can’t throw for shit. He’s been playing scared ever since he got sacked against Joho a few weeks ago.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s a bitch.”

Trent grins, his eyes moving to the bleachers and mine follow. “Speaking of bitches.”

Josie sits there with her friends like she has the last several years just bullshitting until the last bus leaves.

“Demi asked me why we broke up.”

Trent frowns. “When?”

“Couple days ago.”

“Fuck,” he curses, a deep sigh leaving him as he moves to face me.

I lift my foot to the bench to tie my cleat. “What?”


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