Fake It ‘Til You Break It by Meagan Brandy
That’s what we are.
That’s what we agreed to be.
I thought it would be harder, convincing everyone our school’s star receiver was mine and mine alone, but we played our parts well.
So well, the lines between us began to blur until they disappeared completely.
The thing about pretending, though, someone’s always better at it, and by the time I realized my mistake, there was no going back.
I fell for our lie.
And then everything fell apart.
It turned out, he and I were never playing the same game.
He didn’t have to break me to win.
But he did it anyway.
Excerpt Fake It ‘Til You Break It by Meagan Brandy
Her little nose scrunches. “Don’t be a dick.”
“Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.” I shrug. “Why would couples stand off to the side or walk away from groups and shit like that?”
She purses her lips, giving a sassy, “Privacy.”
“Exactly.” I shift her more, so they can’t see my face. “Right now, at least half of them are staring right at us, each one thinking something along the lines of how bad you must need me, or how hard I must be for you, if we have to take a few extra minutes to ourselves before we can even consider sitting through a dinner with the rest of them.”
She attempts to glance over her shoulder, so I shoot my hand up, catching her chin before she can, my fingers spreading along her jaw and neck in the same move.
Damn if she doesn’t even flinch.
I continue. “The girls are wondering what filthy things I’m promising to do to you later when you come to my room, you are coming to my room by the way.” Her eyes narrow, but it’s playful as hell. “The guys are wondering if you’re biting into your bottom lip, if your eyes are growing darker, and wishing they knew what that looked like, knowing they’ll never get the chance now that you’re mine.”
“Wow,” she teases, purposefully breathy. “You really think you’ve got this whole prepped and ready thing down.”
A laugh escapes me before I can squash it, and I tug her a little closer.
She stares a long moment. “So, I’m challenged with convincing everyone your mood swings turn me on?”
“And I get to be the possessive boyfriend who doesn’t want you outta arm’s reach.”
“Get to?” She smashes her lips to the side, tryin’ real hard not to let her grin slip.
“Get. To. D.”
“What makes you think possessive is what I’d like?”
A light chuckle leaves me, and I lick my lips, leaning into her as I slowly slide my arms down. When she doesn’t budge, my palms slip a little lower, now resting just below her waist, my pinkies propped on her ass cheeks.
She inhales, waiting.
“Demi,” I whisper. “I tell you right now, the last thing you want is a pussy ass dude who won’t push you. You’re too smart, too independent for a doormat of a guy, and too strong to ever be one yourself. You’ll take charge… but you’ll like it more when I do.”